Page 38 of Wicked Angel
“Did you go out after Champagne?” I asked her, suddenly curious if she’d witnessed anything. Had she seen glitter-and-perfume girl? “Was he with you?”
“No. He had the night off.”
Crap.
“So… you don’t know where he was or who he was with?”
“No, babe. I don’t.”
I took a breath and asked her in a small voice, “Any chance he might not be your bodyguard anymore?” Kind of couldn’t believe I was asking her that. But I needed to ask. Just in case.
In case there was any chance she would take my side on this. And magically make it so I never had to run into him again. She pretty much had that power.
“Angie…” she said regretfully, and I knew what was coming. “You know Flynn has worked with Dirty, with me, for years. He’s been loyal and had my back throughout so much. I can’t… I mean, it wouldn’t be right to fire him over something like this. You know I’m so sorry that things didn’t work out between the two of you—”
“Yeah. I know.”
“And I’m sure he’ll do his best to stay out of your way and try to make it easy on you. You know Flynn.”
Yeah. I knew Flynn. He was a professional. Last night aside, he invariably had his shit together.
If anyone was gonna be awkward and emotional about anything and everything, it was me.
“You know I want to support you any way I can,” my sister said carefully.
“I know.”
“Do you need money?”
“No.”
“Well, you know you can come stay with me and Seth—”
“Don’t. I don’t want your money, Elle. It’s humiliating. I’m twenty-eight years old in a few weeks. So please just don’t. I’m staying with Shayla for now. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can,” she said. Which was generous.
Even I didn’t know that.
“Good.”
My sister hesitated. “You called me last night for something, Angeline. Tell me how I can support you. What is it you want me to say?”
What I wanted her to say was that she could have Flynn moved somewhere else. He could switch to a different position on Dirty’s security team. He could be someone else’s bodyguard instead of hers.
But she didn’t say that.
“Nothing,” I told her.
“I can’t punish him, professionally,” she said gently. “He’s done nothing wrong in that regard. You know that.”
She was right. Why should he lose his job? And why should she lose an amazing bodyguard just because I’d fallen in love with him and then failed to be a good girlfriend?
“I’ve gotta go, okay?”
“Look, I can go by the apartment today,” she offered. “Pick up some of your things for you. I can bring it over to you. I’ll bring Emma.”
“No. That’s okay. Really.”
