Page 21 of The Bodyguard

Glenn tried to send me to the beauty parlor.

“What the hell?” I said, right there in the meeting.

“You’re the primary on this one, Brooks. You need to look the part.”

“First of all,” I said, “I haven’t agreed to be the primary.”

Glenn flared his nostrils. “You will.”

I looked down at my suit. I looked fine. Didn’t I?

Glenn went on. “If you needed a burka, we’d get you a burka, and if you needed a sari, we’d get you a sari—so since you are headed to the fancy rent-a-mansion of a Hollywood A-lister, we’re getting you a makeover.”

“I don’t need a makeover,” I said—but then I regretted it right away.

The whole room burst out laughing.

“You’re going to shadow Jack Stapleton like that?” Robby said.

I touched my plain brown hair, which was already falling out of its low bun, and then glanced down at my outlet-mall Ann Taylor pantsuit. “Maybe,” I said.

On assignment, I wore whatever blending in required. I’d worn everything from little black dresses, to leather jackets, to tennis outfits. I’d dressed like a teenager, like a punk rocker, and like a frumpy schoolmarm. I was happy to be incognito. I’d do anything to play the part right.

But no matter what I wore on assignment, I always returned to my set point of the Ann Taylor pantsuit—with flats, not heels, because you always have to be able to run.

Footwear really is crucial.

I was still reacting to the makeover idea when Robby said to Glenn, “You should give this gig to Kelly.”

Kelly shrieked with delight at the idea—even though Robby had zero authority to make that call.

Glenn was not a fan of being challenged. He turned to Robby. “What was that?”

Robby flicked a glance in my direction, so we all knew exactly who he was talking about. “She’s not right for it.”

“That’s not up to you.”

Robby gave a half-shrug and said, “Just saying.” And before I had time to even consider if he maybe had a good point, he kept going. “Just look at her,” he said. “She can’t pass in that world.”

Jesus, Robby.

Was this how he was going to compete for the London thing? By sabotaging me?

But I shifted my attention from Robby’s petulant face—which suddenly seemed so much more punchable than I’d ever noticed before—and panned to the right until I landed on Glenn.

“You’re saying I’m the primary on this whether I like it or not?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Why?”

“Because if you want to have a chance at the London job, you need to do it, and do it right. If you don’t knock this assignment out of the park… then Robby’s going to London, and you’re staying right here in Texas on office duty forever.”

He held my gaze in a little mini standoff.

Then he added, “You should be thanking me.”

“I’ll pass on that.”