Page 32 of Power
“Everything okay?”
“I have a new client.” I roll my eyes and grumble with dissatisfaction.
“Why didn’t you say no?”
“It’s an easy job,” I reply without giving away too much.
“Oh, before I forget, I’m going out for drinks later tonight with a guy I matched with. I forgot my black sweater at your place, can I let myself in after work and grab it?”
“Why are you asking? I gave you a key for a reason, Tash. You don’t have to ask to come over, you know that.”
She beams happily. “I know, but still, it’s the right thing to do.” She flicks her gaze over at Grayson. “I can cancel my date if you hook me up with him.” Tash juts her head to the side toward Grayson.
“Nope.” I lift my hands in surrender. “Not even asking.” I finish my coffee and release a puff of air. “I have to go. I need to start getting ready.”
“Be safe and take care.”
“I’m always safe. I probably won’t be home when you get there.”
“Okay.”
I slide my coffee cup over toward Tash. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” I approach Grayson and stand beside him. “I’m ready to go.” We walk to where his car is parked. “I take it you know what I do.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He opens the passenger side door for me.
“I have a client at four.” He remains stoic, not responding in any way. Not even a facial twitch. Nothing. “I need you to not follow me.”
“I’m under instructions, Miss Maxwell.”
“Can you at least stay in the parking lot?”
“Where’s it at?” I give him the hotel name, and he ponders over it on the way home. “I’ll check what the protocol is.”
“It’s all I ask.” I guess the Secret Service probably hasn’t had to deal with an active escort being part of their detail. But of course, my mind is spinning rapidly thinking about his words. He’ll check what the protocol is. Does that mean there is a procedure in place for an active escort? Because if there is, it means previous presidents have been in the same situation. I suppose there was that one incredibly public incident with a blue dress, but she wasn’t an escort. I start laughing as I think about the second time I met with Bennett. I was wearing a blue floor-length evening gown. I’d best check it for...stains. Grayson’s eyes quickly shift toward me as he’s driving. “Sorry,” I say through my laughter.
He doesn’t give me an audible response. Instead, he merely nods.
Thankfully, I settle by the time we arrive back home. He pulls up into the driveway and I get out. Grayson catches up to me and holds his hand out. I look at him, not knowing why he’s doing that. “Keys.”
I roll my eyes and sigh. “It’s my home, Grayson, you don’t need to check it.” He gestures with a hand curl and stares at me. “This is ridiculous. No one knows anything, but people will put it together if you keep hanging around all the time.”
“I just look like your boyfriend who spends all his time here.”
“In the days you’ve been with me, this is the most you’ve spoken. Yes, because my boyfriend would be out in his car most of the time. Makes total sense to me.”
Grayson finally cracks a tiny smile. However, he continues doing his job. He unlocks the front door and tells me to wait while he does a quick scan of my house. “You’re fine to go in.”
“Why thank you,” I sarcastically respond. “You can sit in here, if you want.” I flick my hand around my dining and kitchen. “Instead of having to go back out there.”
“No, thank you, Miss Maxwell.”
I shrug as I head into my bedroom, and Grayson returns to his car.
I hate making myself look like a school girl, especially considering Emily is ten years old and at school. I check my two pigtails, grab a lollipop and stick it in my bag. I never take anything that has my address or full name on it when I meet with clients. That’s always left in the car. My bag consists of a range of safety items for my protection and the client’s. I pull my coat on, slip my feet into heels and pull my socks up to just below my knees.
