Page 55 of The Bodyguard

Ten

I MADE MYacting debut with Jack’s family the next day at the hospital.

By accident.

But first, we had to sneak him in.

His mother had a VIP room where Jack could wait during her surgery, so the day should have been easy.

The plan was to get him to the room unnoticed—early, by six that morning—so he could see his mom before they wheeled her out. Then he’d wait there until the surgery was over, while Doghouse and I monitored the hospital halls and the rest of the team snuck out to the Stapletons’ ranch to install a few secret security cameras. Things on our end were simple. All Jack had to do was stay in that room.

“You can’t leave the room,” I explained on the drive over.

“At all?”

“Just stay in the room. It’s not hard.”

“Isn’t that a little much?” Jack asked.

“If you’d read the handout—” I started.

“I’m not a handouts guy.”

“This is a high-threat situation,” I went on. “There are multiple opportunities for you to be seen, recognized, photographed—”

“I get it.”

“Once you’re seen here, everything gets harder. So just do what you’re told.”

“Got it,” Jack said. Then he added, “You should know I’m already good at this, though.”

I looked over.

He said, “I bet the oil guys you usually protect aren’t used to hiding. But I’ve been making myself invisible for years.”

“That can’t be easy,” I said. “Being you.”

“There are tricks. Baseball caps are surprisingly effective. Glasses seem to break up people’s pattern-matching. Not making eye contact helps, too. If you don’t look at people, they tend not to look at you. Though the big thing is to just keep moving. Just keep going. As soon as you break stride, they see you.”

“You do know more than my average oil executive,” I said, letting my voice sound impressed.

“See? And I didn’t even read the handout.”

I glanced over at him. He was doing it all: the baseball cap, and the glasses, plus a gray button-down. But even trying to look as unremarkable as possible, he still just… glowed.

“Those execs have a big advantage over you, though,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“Nobody cares about them except me and the bad guys.”

Then Jack narrowed his eyes and studied me. “Do you care about them?”

“I mean, sort of,” I said.

“That sounds like a no.”

“I care about doing my job right.”