The sooner we’re both freed from this arrangement, the better, because I don’t like the idea of playing boyfriend at some ludicrous party either. One of the hounds would’ve been far better suited for this role. I push away the thoughts because I don’t often stray or question my boss's orders or plans. But this one is thrusting me too far out of my comfort zone. I don't have the expertise to pull this off. Two days in a row, I’ve made this woman cry without meaning to.
If I didn’t know I was an asshole before, I certainly fucking do now.
7
LORENZO
This woman has a perfectly rehearsed stink eye, which she frequently trains on me.
“You can use the guest room downstairs, but my room is completely off limits,” she says as she opens her apartment door. Her apartment building is prestigious and well known, as expected of anyone who carries the Taylor name.
It seems to infuriate her more that I don’t give in to her threats, which, dare I say, might even becuteif she thinks they have any genuine weight against me.
When we first walk in, I scan the main living area. It’s ridiculously spacious, yet it has a nice flow to it. It’s contemporary in feel, with small splashes of beige and light pinks. But mismatched colored vases sprinkle the room with various flowers that have already begun to wilt.
On my left is a large island counter with barstools framing a polished kitchen. In front is a living space that, instead of a TV, has a large wooden library filled with books and a fireplace. I curiously walk over, ignoring the plush couches and cushions, grimacing as I look over the titles, which are all romance.
“Don’t come in here and judge what I read,” she says defensively as she removes her heels and leaves them at the door, stacked with another ten pairs. Then she begins removing her jewelry, starting with the earrings.
I’m not judging her choice of reading, but more so the fact that I don’t understand the appeal of romance.
The floor-to-ceiling windows let the night spill in. It’s busy, bright, irritating—and dangerous. “The blinds are to be closed at all times.”
She snorts, and I turn to face her, her hands on her hips. “I like the nightlife and the city. The blinds stay open.”
My temple pulses as I lick my lips, trying my hardest to play nice. “Have you ever seen a movie where the target gets a bullet through the head because they’ve been sniped through a window?”
She immediately pales. A cold, palpable tension drifts between us. “You’re so obnoxious. If you’re as good at this security thing as you say, then you’ll figure out another way. They stay open. I’ll remind you that you’re a guest inmyhome. Actually, not even that—you’re lucky I’m giving you a room at all. I could very well just make you sleep on the floor outside the apartment door.”
I casually shrug. “I’ve slept on worse. But, no, whatever room you’re in, I’m in.”
She raises her finger to silence me, and my temple pulses again.
I can already tell this woman is going to drive me insane.
“Ground rules. You don’t go into my room. I need my privacy, especially if I have to entertain this fake boyfriend bodyguard bullshit. If you come to my shop, you stay in the back and out of my way. No, inviting any weird cold-blooded killer friends into my home. Most importantly, you’re not going toparties or events with me. The sooner this is over, the better, and we’ll pretend like it never happened.”
“I go wherever you go.” I fold my arms in front of my chest. For such a tiny woman, she’s very defiant.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I need my privacy. You’re not coming into my room.” She stands her ground. “And no parties where gossip will definitely spread.”
“I think you misunderstand the point of using the cover of being in a relationship. I’m with you everywhere, unless you’re daring enough to create a believable excuse as to why you suddenly have a bodyguard. It’s your choice, Sunshine.”
She doesn’t seem to like that as her cheeks turn a shade of furious red.
“Do you even know what a relationship looks like?” she berates.
I shrug. “I get the gist of it.”
“No to you being in my room.”
“Then you close the blinds in your bedroom,” I challenge.
“No.”
