I grabbed him a glass from the jug in the fridge then stood opposite him, eating my own slice of chocolate frosting covered heaven. How could you be down when you had cake? It was impossible. Ziggy ate with an economy and efficiency of movement. Not shoving it in like an animal, but not wasting time either.
“It’s good,” he said.
I smiled. “So what’s your job like?”
He did a one shoulder shrug. “It’s a job. It’s what I’m trained for.”
“You never wanted to do anything else?”
“Not really. Enlisted straight out of school then moved into close protection work once I left the Marines. What about you?”
“A modeling agent approached me at an airport when I was nineteen. Mom and I had just been on an epic trip to Disneyland for her fortieth birthday. We had such a good time.” I used my fork to carefully cut off another small piece of cake. Truth was, after all the cookie dough I’d digested, I wasn’t actually hungry. So I guess stress baking and comfort eating were two of my things. “I’d been working, saving my pennies, and hanging out with friends. But who wouldn’t want to be part of the glamour, getting to wear cool clothes and travel the world?”
“Is that what it’s like?”
“Sometimes,” I said. “But more often than not, it’s boring and awkward and working long hours. You get to travel, but it’s rare that you actually get to do any sightseeing. Things tend to be pretty rushed on business trips. And when you’re starting out you have to stay in the model apartments. Imagine twelve people, some of whom have seriously dodgy hygiene, squeezed into a three-bedroom dump and paying through the roof for it half the damn time. Ugh. Listen to me whine.”
He did the solo brow raise thing. Such a cool move. “How is modeling awkward?”
/> “Have you never been backstage at a fashion show?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“T and A as far as the eye can see. I used to be shy and demure, dammit!”
This time it was definitely there. The small twitch of his lips revealing the faintest of smiles. If it wouldn’t have been obvious and embarrassing, I’d have high-fived myself in victory. I made Ziggy Thayer’s tough guy stone façade crack for a second. Go me. Even dead tired and half falling apart, this was something to celebrate. With more chocolate cake, of course.
He gave me a long hard look. I’d have paid real money to know what he was thinking. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to. This time at least.
“Had to escort a group of businessmen around a bunch of sex clubs once. That was eye-opening,” he said. “And then there was a member of royalty who was into being watched and walked in on. You couldn’t enter a room without accidentally catching sight of something.”
“Oh my God. How did you keep a straight face?”
“Keeping a straight face is one of my specialties.”
“I’ve noticed.”
There it was again. His lips curved upward by about an eighth of an inch. Maybe less. One thing was for sure, my eyesight would be sharp as hell by the time this man left to protect someone else.
“All of this sangfroid of yours makes me want to say weird and outrageous things just to try and catch you off guard,” I confessed. “But I’ll do my best to try to restrain myself. Today at least.”
“I appreciate that.”
“You’re very welcome.” I grinned. Holy cow. Were we flirting? Or was it just me and my overactive imagination?
“Miss Cooper,” he said in that rough low voice. “When’s the last time you slept? I mean really slept.”
“Do I look that bad?”
“You look fine. But you do look like you could use a decent night’s sleep.”
I turned away, embarrassed for some reason. Teary almost. Actually I completely knew the reason. Being worn out and having someone you liked call you on it kind of sucked. No matter how nice he was trying to be.
“This stalker thing and the messages and everything have got me a little…wound up, I guess,” I said. “Jittery, you know? Actually, you probably don’t know. I can’t imagine anything scaring you.”
“You’d be wrong about that.”
I said nothing.