“See, why you always have to say something nice and then—”
“Because I’m nosy,” he said, swishing away from her to go hold up the shoes. “Tell me, who for the love of all that is manly, is taking you to the awards tonight wearing a size fifteen shoe, girl!”
She laughed so hard that she fell against the granite counter and it took her minutes to recover. “No, I don’t have a date— this is for my limo driver, but I had the same reaction.”
“Oh, now that’s sad,” Javier said, sucking his teeth. “Your limo driver.” He shook his head and put a hand on one hip. “Girl, you’re supposed to have a limo driver, a security bodyguard team, and a date, and not necessarily in that order. Who is going to strut you down the red carpet? You need a real publicist and to get away from Jonathan Evans’s organization. That man is still playing you.”
“That’s the best I could do on short notice,” she said, trying not to lose her smile. “I got the security coming for the tour . . . as well as I got NextStarz to honor their contract to provide me emergency housing,” she added, sweeping her arms around the kitchen. “Jonathan would have been my date but he liked teenage groupies, soooo, what do you want?”
“Well, is this limo man fine at least? I mean, since you’re dressing him up?
Anita winked. “Make me beautiful and I’ll tell you all about him.”
ZACH POKED HIS head into the bedroom, needing to talk to Lowell, but not wanting to disturb his sleep. His gaze scanned the darkened room, and fixed on the prosthetic leg that was resting against the overstuffed chair in the far corner of the room. Memories turned a blade in his gut— nothing would ever erase that day from his mind.
Sleep deprivation had made him oblivious to a camouflaged improvised explosive device. Lowell had seen the IED in time to pull him back, shoving him far enough away from the deadly shrapnel it contained. But the vibration of his falling triggered it just as Lowell dove away, costing him a leg. He owed Lowell more than his life . . . he owed him the quality of life. How did one even begin to repay a debt so deep?
“Hey, man,” Zach said, tapping on the frame of the bedroom door as Lowell stirred. Force of habit wouldn’t allow him to walk up on a sleeping, combat-ready soldier without announcing himself— it was a good way to get snuffed.
Lowell opened his eyes and tried to smile. “Glad you brought your sorry ass to the Big Apple?”
Zach tried to smile and entered the room but didn’t put on the light. The shades were drawn but he could still see. “Came to check on you.”
“There goes Anne Marie running off her mouth again. She tipped you off before I called you, right? Sounds like too much of a coincidence that you just so happened to be in the city when I went down.” Lowell closed his eyes.
Zachary stood very, very still. The tone his friend had used when referring to his wife concerned him. The stench in the room was definitely that of a sick man . . . vomit, sweat, and a lot of self-pity. Lowell’s normal caramel skin tone was off and his eyes almost seemed jaundiced. He’d lost weight since the last time he’d seen him, but Lowell also seemed puffy in the face and hands.
“She meant no harm,” Zach said carefully. He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant and then leaned against the wall, not wanting to go near the chair with the prosthetic. “She just said you had the flu— hey. No biggie.”
He watched his friend relax a little, but that didn’t mitigate his concern for Lowell.
“All right . . . Thanks, man. I just don’t like Anne Marie trying to treat me like I’m an invalid or something.” Lowell’s tone was suspicious, and his gaze was hard and unrelenting. “Everything go okay with the driving job today?”
“It was easy, no sweat. I’m ready for tonight— just gotta shower and change, then I’m out. But, uh, listen . . . I have to thank you. I’m getting to see a beautiful lady do her thing on stage . . . getting a backstage pass. Wouldn’t be a bad way to spend my leave keeping her safe.”
Zach knew the ruse was lame, but he needed a way to open the discussion with his very defensive friend. For a moment he didn’t think Lowell would buy it, and then all of a sudden his buddy laughed.
“Are you serious?” Lowell shook his head and simply closed his eyes again, wheezing.
“What?” Zach said, joking around. “Have you seen that woman? She’s seriously fine, man.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen her,” Lowell said without opening his eyes. “But you know what the B stands for.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard,” Zach said, forcing himself to laugh. “Still, you can’t believe everything you hear in the tabloids.”
“Fortunately I don’t have to read the tabloids . . . I’ve got a contract to bodyguard her at the awards event and don’t have another guy that I can just pull off a standing job. These stars are so fickle, I can’t afford to jeopardize a steady corporate contract
and then have her decide on a whim to go back to having her dumb-and-dumber brothers being her bouncers. That’s why I’ve gotta get up and outta this bed.” Lowell struggled to sit up but then summarily gave up the fight. “I feel like holy hell, though . . . who gets the flu in May?”
“You know, if you give that poor woman what you’ve got and she can’t perform, she might sue you.” Zach folded his arms over his chest. “I damned sure would.”
“I hadn’t even thought about that— and she’s just the type who would do it, too, man.”
“Why don’t you have a stand-in go . . . one of the guys from the—”
“Never happen,” Lowell said, cutting him off and coughing. “Those guys follow orders well enough, but aren’t good at strategy, making logistical corrections and doing maneuvers on the fly, or anticipating best-case, worst-case scenarios. They’ve got good enough resumes in security, but not up to Delta Force standards, you know what I mean.”
“I hear you,” Zach said, nodding. “That’s why we do what we do.”