Keeping Her Close. Carol Ross

Keeping Her Close - Carol  Ross


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had been good for that; her father’s work, notoriety and travels, his habit of bringing her along with him everywhere and all over the world, had subjected her to all types of people, including commanding military types like the one standing before her.

      “Thank you,” he said softly, before dipping his head to mop his face. Then he looked at her again. “If you turn your phone off, then not only can you not be reached, it can’t be easily tracked if you get lost or hurt. Surely, you know that? Doesn’t it have a do not disturb option?”

      “Yes, I do know that. I’ve been living here alone for a few months now, and I guess I’m a little out of practice.” She felt herself wincing. She needed to lay it all out on the line so that he could help her. “No, you know what? That’s not it. To be honest, I’ve never felt like I needed protection. Not personally, I mean. My dad is the one who’s in the spotlight.” She took a step forward. “Growing up, we always had a security system, and I went through the motions, you know so that I could get in the house.” She added a little laugh. He didn’t join in. She sighed. “But I probably didn’t take it as seriously as I should have. And this highly controversial stuff with my dad didn’t start until I was in college. That’s when he got a full-time security detail. During the last few years, I was overseas a lot.”

      “I understand that.” He paused to nod, taking a couple of breaths while he was at it. “Let’s consider these lessons one and two.” He held out his thumb to count. “Cell phone on, number one. And number two is a habit you should never ever relinquish. I don’t care who you are. I’d tell my sister the same thing, and she’s not a billionaire’s daughter whose dad was almost assaulted.”

      “You have a sister?”

      “Yes.”

      “Is she—”

      “Stay with me here,” he interrupted with an impatient shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter where you are or who you’re with—you keep the door locked. And don’t answer the door if you don’t know who it is like you did for me yesterday, okay? I don’t care if you see the cable guy, the UPS man or a little old lady holding a giant bouquet of flowers.”

      “Got it.”

      “Not even if Santa Claus is standing out there on your porch do you open that door.”

      Nodding, she set her tone to overly serious, “That fat guy can take his bag of gifts somewhere else. What a weirdo.” She swiped a careless hand through the air. “Who wants presents and flowers anyway?”

      The chuckle that escaped his lips seemed to surprise him. He shook his head, but his mouth remained curled at the corners like he was fighting a grin. The struggle appeared real, and Harper felt an inordinate amount of satisfaction at causing it.

      “I’m serious,” he said, his expression turning stern again.

      “I know you are and so am I. Despite my…jokiness, I do want to know this stuff. I understand the value. I appreciate your efforts already, and I’m committed to changing my habits.”

      “Good. Then we’re going to talk about your note-writing venture, as well. Why would you leave a note on your door letting everyone know where you are?”

      Harper didn’t miss the implication. Holding up a finger, she countered, “I didn’t say where I was, only that I was gone and would be back in time for our meeting.”

      “It wouldn’t be difficult to look in the garage and discover that your vehicle is here. Anyone could deduce that you were on the beach, wait here for you and—”

      “Except,” Harper interrupted with another finger point, “the security system covers the entire property and would alert me that someone was on my property.” If she only knew how to use that feature, she was sure it would come in real handy. But Kyle didn’t know that she didn’t know.

      “You didn’t have your phone on, so how would you get the alert?”

      Busted. “If you were a bad guy, you wouldn’t know that.”

      “Harper—”

      “Fine, I see your point. No more notes.”

      Bobbing his head slowly, as if he wasn’t sure whether he could trust her sincerity, he said, “Talk to me directly, okay? Which brings up another point, we’ll figure out a code word or phrase when we’re talking or texting so that in a potential emergency situation, I know it’s you and you know it’s me and that you are, or aren’t, under duress. We’ll also come up with an ‘I’m okay’ wave or hand signal as well as distress signals.”

      Yikes. “All right.”

      “I’m going to go change. I’ll be right back.”

      “Sounds good,” she said. “How do you like your coffee?”

      “Hot.”

      He left, and Harper heaved out a breath, grateful for a moment to gather her wits. She retrieved a towel and wiped up the water Kyle had tracked inside. At the back door, she noticed her shoes had made a puddle, too, so she opened the door and set them outside. She headed back to the kitchen where she poured coffee into two mugs and wondered what she’d gotten herself into. She’d barely sat down in the living room when Kyle returned, scowling again, she noted with disappointment.

      She’d just taken her first sip of coffee when he said, “The door was unlocked again.” He gestured in the general direction of the back door. “I locked it behind me.”

      Harper choked on the liquid, and after a nice long cough, she wheezed, “You’re joking, right?”

      “Absolutely not.”

      “But you were coming right back!”

      His response was another menacing stare.

      “Wait, were you testing me somehow? Did you leave on purpose to see what I’d do?”

      “No! I was soaking wet. Harper…” With a quick shake of his head, he took a seat across from her. Leaning forward, he placed his forearms on his thighs. “This is not a test. It’s a lifestyle.”

      “All right. I get it. From now on, I will lock you out every single chance I get.”

      “You can’t lock me out, I have a key, but I promise you I will relish using it.”

      She chuckled, but he held fast to his serious face. Why did she take that as a challenge?

      He said, “For today, let’s start with your schedule. Can you give me a copy of your weekly schedule?”

      “No.” What did he think, she was a dentist or an accountant where she could list her hours and appointment times? At his frown, she explained, “That would literally be impossible. I’m a photographer. My schedule varies a lot. Right now, I’m taking photos for a book about the Oregon Coast so it’s all about the scenery and wildlife.”

      “Right.” Kyle nodded, looking thoughtful. “Let’s do it day by day, then. Can you give me a schedule each morning? Write down what you’re going to do that day, and we’ll talk about all the ways we’re going to make sure you’re the safest you can be while you do them.”

      “Uh, I can try, but it’s—”

      “Great,” he interrupted. “Can you do that now? Give me your schedule for today, and we’ll get started?”

      Taking care not to let her exasperation show, she answered, “Sure.” Better to show him anyway. She stood and walked into the kitchen where she scrawled a few lines on a notepad before tearing off the page. Back in the living room she handed it over and resumed her seat. “Here you go.”

      Kyle bent his head and studied the words. Across the top, she’d written the date and underlined it. Underneath that she’d added, “Office Work—8:37 a.m.—until I get hungry (usually around 11:30).”

      Keeping his chin down, he looked up


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