Cat 'N Mouse (5 page)

“I’ll be right there.” Mimi followed after Prescott.

There was a look on Alexandria’s face when her father left the room. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but he was leaning toward disappointment. Princess didn’t really have daddy wrapped around her fingers after all. She still wanted daddy’s approval, in fact, required daddy’s approval. Interesting.

“Okay,
Princess
.”

“Don’t call me that.” She sprung around, glaring at him as if she couldn’t stand breathing the same air with him. And, yeah, it ticked him off. Again.

“Why? That’s what your daddy calls you.”

“He means it as a term of affection. You don’t.”

“You’re a spoiled brat who probably hasn’t worked a day in your life, living off daddy’s fortune.”

“You self-righteous bastard,” she hissed.

“Does the truth hurt? Well, I don’t care what you think of me. Here’s how it’s going to work. Where you go for the next week, I go. Deal with it.”

Sam was gearing up for a tear fest and fully expected her to jump off the deep end. Instead, she straightened her back, came and stood right in front of him, under his nose, all five feet seven inches, minus the heels.

The musky fragrance she wore did a number on his senses. All he saw were her plum colored lips curling into a smile, that didn’t reach her cold hazel eyes when she tipped her head up to look him. She did this bobbing thing with her neck. One hundred percent attitude aimed smacked right at him.

“Deal with this.” She jabbed a finger at his chest and he felt her red fingernail through his shirt. “I did the bodyguard thing when I was growing up and there wasn’t one around that could keep up with me…ask Matt. This is my father’s doing and he always gets what he wants at any cost. I’ll give you twenty-four hours, then you can go crawl back under whatever rock my father found you.”

“I’ll take that bet. Guess what,
Princess
? I’ll be around a lot longer than twenty-four hours.” He stepped around her. “I need to speak with your father. In the meantime, I would suggest you give me a copy of your itinerary for the week so I can do my job.”

“Go to hell!”

Sam shrugged, pausing at the door. “Should you choose not to provide me with the information required that’s fine by me. It’s your life. You can choose to live it above ground or sleep with the weeds. I would think above ground would be more rewarding. Be ready in an hour.”

He left her fuming in the salon and ran into Mimi in the hallway carrying a tray. His hand went out to her elbow to steady the tray. She obviously overheard his conversation with Princess.

“I’m still trying to decide if I like you, Mr. O’Malley. A word of advice—”

A crash came from the salon and Alexandria stormed out a few minutes later. She halted her steps at the door when she saw them and then tore off in the opposite direction toward the stairs.

She was a spoiled brat all right. Whenever she didn’t get her way, she threw a tantrum. Well, he wasn’t going to put up with that. She would either follow his rules or her daddy could find someone else, but not before her twenty-four hours deadline. He didn’t want to lose that bet.

“Being liked is not a job prerequisite.” He watched as Princess marched up the stairs.

“You take great pleasure in goading her. I wonder why?” Her head cocked to one side as she balanced the tray with the silver teapot and fine china. She peered at him as if she knew something he didn’t.

Why was that? He considered Mimi’s comment for a moment then brushed it aside.

“I’d like to see Prescott before we leave.”

“Follow me, Mr. O’Malley.”

They made their way down the long corridor toward a set of French doors that opened into Prescott’s office. He had papers spread across the mahogany desk in front of him. He was on the phone and motioned for them to enter. Mimi unloaded the contents from the tray onto a table set for two close by the opened patio door.

The breeze blowing in off the water failed to take the edge off the summer heat floating in the room. It wasn’t just the heat that got Sam’s blood boiling. It was Little—Miss-Sunshine and the way her jeans molded her hips as she ran up the stairs.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. O’Malley? Perhaps some breakfast?” Mimi asked as she passed him.

“I’m fine.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. Oh, a gentle piece of advice…don’t judge a book by its cover,” Mimi said, for his ears only. A wide grin spread across her face. “Your little bet with Alexandria…my money is on the Princess.”

“You don’t know me very well, do you?”

“And
you
don’t know Alexandria.”

•  •  •

“Thou shall not kill.”

It was one of the Commandments. Alexandria knew that much, but she still wanted to kill him. Anyone who’d met the man probably had the same thought. He was rude, overbearing and obnoxious.

By the time she reached her bedroom and slumped down on the canopy bed, Samuel O’Malley had died a thousand deaths in her mind. No, killing him was too easy. She would make his life as miserable as he was about to make hers.

He hated her. Strike that. He hated people with money in general, so why had he even agreed to be anywhere near her, let alone be her bodyguard.

Money.

Money was the only thing she could think of. Right then and there she decided that she would throw her money in his face at every opportunity. Yes it was childish, but she didn’t care.

“Calm down,” she told herself. The phone on the nightstand rang. She grabbed it. “What!”

“Alexandria, is that you?”

“Oh, Robyn, I’m so sorry. Hi, how are you?”

“What’s wrong? You’re not answering your cellphone. I called your condo and couldn’t get you. I took a chance and decided to call you at your dad’s.”

“I’ve been here since yesterday,” she said twisting the phone cord around her finger.

Robyn wasn’t at all like some of her other friends. Robyn cared about her and didn’t want anything in return. She didn’t get a kick out of hanging out with the rich girl. To show her appreciation, Alexandria had bought her a leather jacket for Christmas about a year after they’d met. It was too expensive Robyn had said. Alexandria returned the jacket and donated the money to Robyn’s Nest Foundation. A foundation devoted to helping kids and families with Sickle Cell Anemia.

All Robyn wanted was her friendship. It was hard for Alexandria to accept that because people always wanted something from her. Her relationships always came with a large price tag. People either wanted to get a job with her father’s company, like her last boyfriend, or wanted to get ahead. Robyn was always there when she got trashed in the tabloids and had never judged her, even when she had cause to.

Robyn had helped so many kids while Alexandria remained in the background. That’s how she wanted it. The only thing that made the news was her latest conquest, as one paper had called it and she played up to. The only person that knew the truth was Robyn. How could she let her father take away the funding he had promised?

“Sweetie, what’s wrong? Alexandria?”

She thought about telling Robyn about the Neanderthal downstairs, but decided against it. Her life wasn’t that bad. She just needed to tough this one out. It was like any other hurdle. This time she just had to contend with an overbearing bodyguard.

“You know how it is when I see my father,” she said, lying back on the bed resting against the headboard rubbing her forehead.

“Yes. You need to be detoxed,” Robyn said with a hardy laugh. “I’ve just the thing. There’s this new recipe I want to try. How about having dinner with me and Dennis?”

“I thought that husband of yours was at a medical convention.”

“With an IQ like his, he gets bored easily. He came home a day early. Say you’ll come.”

Samuel O’Malley popped into Alexandria’s head. She remembered the car incident and the scene in the salon,
I’ve never had to be explained before, Princess, morning or night.
She didn’t want to let him loose on anyone, least of all Robyn and Dennis. They didn’t deserve it.

“I can’t,” she sighed.

“I won’t take no for an answer,” Robyn insisted. “See you at six.”

“I don’t know if I can. I’m meeting someone,” she lied, not really sure how she was going to explain the thorn in her side.

“I see,” was all Robyn said. What remained unsaid was, who was the guy this time and what would be the fall out from it. But like the dear friend Robyn was, she wouldn’t pry until Alexandria was ready to talk.

“It’s not like that. It’s business,” she explained quickly.

“I see,” she said again.

“Stop saying
I see.
It’s business that has to do with my father.”

“Then bring your ‘business’ along. The more the merrier. See you at six.”

“Robyn, wait—”

•  •  •

Sam leaned against the white Land Rover Discovery arms folded across his chest, reflecting on his meeting with Prescott. The man was a piece of work. Daily reports? He would have his hands full with Princess and didn’t see where he would find the time to write up a report on his progress. A verbal report, that’s what he’d promised, and only when he had something significant to report.

Prescott’s final instructions last night was for Sam to drop off his car at the address on the business card he’d given him. Then he could take a cab to the estate. The cab part he obeyed. When he’d given Prescott the estimate for the repairs of his corvette, the man was more upset that his instructions hadn’t been followed than the cost of the repairs. Then he’d pulled himself together and announced that a vehicle would be provided for his use.

The vehicle was assigned by Colt. It came complete with GPS and had enough gadgets that mimicked an airplane cockpit.

The man had driven it out of one of the six garages off the side of the house. He carried a clipboard with him as he stepped out of the SUV. You would think it was a rental. He went over the vehicle with a fine toothcomb, ticking boxes on the paper then clocking the mileage. This he said was for tax purposes. Colt didn’t want Sam to forget he was an employee. Perhaps someone should remind him that he was also an employee.

“Ownership and insurance papers are in the glove compartment,” he had said. “There’s also a gas card available for your use. Keep all receipts. Any questions?”

“Just one—do you take care of all the vehicles Prescott owns?”

“Yes. The keys are in the ignition.” Those were Colt’s last words before disappearing into the garage, closing the door.

He’d told Mimi after his inspection of the vehicle to let Princess know he wanted to leave the estate by noon. It was well after two and Princess hadn’t emerged from her castle.

Removing her cellphone from his pocket he tossed it on the passenger seat through the open window. He should’ve given it to her father last night, but he didn’t. Why? Because he wanted to tick her off. Why? Because he could.

He was a professional and he should start acting like one. Matt had concerns about her safety. The least he could do was to ensure she was safe during the week she was in his care.

The front door opened and Sam pushed off from the vehicle. He watched as Alexandria and Prescott hugged at the front door. Prescott kissed her on the forehead. It was a father and daughter moment. There was no evidence of the disagreement they had earlier. He almost felt a twinge of jealousy.

The last and only time he’d seen his father was when the man had shown up two years ago, introducing himself as his old man. That was a shock to him because as far as he knew, his father was dead. That’s what his mother had told him.

Sam was a product of a one night stand, which was how his mother had explained his existence. His father couldn’t care less about him. She also thought he should know that too. She gave him his father’s first name and her last name. His middle name was courtesy of the boyfriend she was dating at the time. At eleven, she’d told him to get a job and by eighteen his mother was gone. The note she left simply told him that her obligations toward him were fulfilled.

His father had shown up with evidence, Sam’s birth certificate. He had evidence in one hand and the other outstretched begging for money. Sam had given him five hundred dollars because he was his father.

Deep down Sam wanted something from the man, if only an explanation as to why he hadn’t been around. That’s why he’d given him the money, but he got nothing in return. He never saw him again. He hadn’t thought about his father since he left. Why memory lane trip? Must be the heat.

Sam pushed thoughts of his father from his mind as Alexandria started toward the passenger side of the Land Rover. Halfway between the door and the SUV, she turned and waved to Prescott. Dressed in jeans and a white blouse, Princess looked subdued, nothing like the fashion diva that slammed her car into his. When their eyes met, hers lit up like fireworks.

“Don’t bother,” she said when he moved to the passenger side to open her door.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“What do I call you?”

She opened the door, saw the phone and cut her eyes at him. Picking up the phone, she tossed it in her purse. It was more like a suitcase with straps. She slid into the seat. No thank you for returning my phone. Nothing. Come on, did he expect Princess to thank him for the phone which she probably thought he stole.

“Sam is fine.”

“Well,
Sam
, here is my calendar.” She retrieved a black hard cover book from the bottomless pit of a purse and tossed it on the driver’s seat. “It has my schedule up to the end of the year. You can photo copy the pages for this week if you so chose. I want it back before the end of the day.”

Sam was expecting some kind of electronic organizer or some high tech gadget, not a black book with yellow sticky notes hanging from every page. The book was as thick as the Moby Dick novel. He grabbed the book and threw it on the backseat. He said nothing because he wasn’t going to give it back until he was good and ready.

“I’ve a dinner engagement at six o’clock tonight.”

She pulled the seatbelt across her shoulder, snapped it into the buckle and put on her sunglasses, a fancy black pair that seemed to cover her entire face.