PHYSICAL PROBLEMS WITH PHYSICAL SOLUTIONS
CHEYENNE
Cheyenne’s outing to Burgerville had not leaked into the wider world. At least not yet. She had set up a Google Alert to see if anyone posted photos of her out and about when she was supposed to be in lockdown at school. So far, nothing new had shown up.
Now she sat in the passenger seat of the Escalade, lost in thought as Jaydra drove home from school. In just three days, she could be seeing Griffin. Where would they meet? What would they do? They would have at least seven hours together.
“You sound happy,” Jaydra said. It seemed as much a question as an observation.
Cheyenne froze. She had been running her index finger over her lower lip, wondering what it might be like to kiss Griffin. “What?”
“You were humming.”
“Oh, um, Kenzie had me listen to this new band she likes.” To forestall any questions about the imaginary band, she changed the subject. “It must be getting kind of boring, just driving me back and forth to school.”
“You can’t let yourself think like that. That’s when you start making mistakes. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I try to pick a different route each time. It keeps me from getting bored, and it keeps us from being predictable. Predictability is what gets people killed.”
“What do you mean?” Cheyenne asked, mostly to keep her talking. It wasn’t hard. Jaydra liked to lecture. How adrenaline affected your body. How when seconds counted, the police were minutes away. How movement was life, because movement indicated initiative. And whoever had the initiative won the battle. Meanwhile, Cheyenne could continue to internally debate whether she should wear perfume Monday.
“There was a high-level executive in New York who always used to go to the same diner for breakfast. He was kidnapped walking back to his car. Another guy used to stop every morning at the end of his gated driveway to get the paper. The neighbors found his car still running—with the driver’s door open. Only he was gone.”
A shiver crept across Cheyenne’s skin. What good was life if you had to worry every time you left your house? “So if you were the bodyguard for one of those guys—what? You wouldn’t let them eat at their favorite restaurant? You wouldn’t let them get the paper?”
“Maybe I’d be the one to get the paper. And if my client really, really wanted to eat at that restaurant, I’d insist on accompanying him. And see if I could secure a parking spot for us right outside the door. Entrance and egress—leaving—are the most dangerous points of any travel plan. That’s why I don’t let you get out of the car until we’re right in front of the school.”
Cheyenne most definitely did not want Jaydra thinking about her safety at school. What if she took it into her head to begin following Cheyenne from class to class? “You seem like you know a lot, so how come you’re not guarding an ambassador or a movie star or something? Instead of just me?”
“When it comes to personal protection, it’s still a man’s world.” Jaydra let out a huff. “Most people won’t hire a woman for a high-profile job. Everyone’s got this stereotype of a man-mountain in a suit and dark glasses. But someone like that just attracts attention. Plus they tend to see physical problems with physical solutions. They’ll go after the paparazzi and leave the client unprotected. Women are much better at keeping it on the down low, and using their social skills to defuse things. And a female bodyguard can blend in. That’s one reason I work with so many minors. People look at me and think I’m the mom or sister or nanny. Or a friend.”
A friend? Cheyenne couldn’t imagine being friends with Jaydra.
“And I can sit in a restaurant or a park with a client or go shopping with them and look as if I belong.”
“Do you like to go shopping?” It was hard to think of her doing something so frivolous.
Jaydra made a sound like a laugh. “Not really. Not that I could afford to shop where my clients do anyway.” Her voice tightened. “Rich people think they can buy anything. Once I was the minder for this ten-year-old Middle Eastern princess visiting Manhattan. She demanded I get her a kitten, a puppy, and a baby tiger. I said I couldn’t get a baby tiger, and all hell broke loose.” Her voice was bitter.
“A baby tiger?”
“That’s the problem with some rich people and celebrities—they’re used to having things their way. They hire you for your expertise, but then they won’t do what they’re told. They want to stick their head up through the sunroof, or they take things from fans instead of letting you handle them first. They never think about whether it might be anthrax or a bomb.”
In her mind’s eye, Cheyenne saw bullets and explosions. She was finding it harder and harder to daydream about Griffin. Was she risking too much, trying to see him? “But how often does stuff like that really happen?”
“All it takes is once. But in their world, no one ever says no to them. Well, I do. I say no. And sometimes I have to pay the price.”
Cheyenne felt a twinge of guilt. Would Jaydra end up getting in trouble because of her? If she got caught, she would have to make sure her dad knew it was all her idea. “But it’s impossible to keep anyone completely safe.”
“You’re right. But you need to choose your risks and make a plan for what to do if things go wrong. Because if you’ve never felt your body dump adrenaline, then when something bad happens, you’ll probably just freeze. That’s why I surprised you the other night, to teach you how important it is to react right away, while you still have time. Which is vital for you. You may not always be rich and famous, but you’re always going to be blind.”
“Yeah, I know.” The words were out of her mouth before Cheyenne could call them back. “Thanks for reminding me.”
Jaydra let out an irritated sigh. “All I meant is that a certain subset of people are always going to see that you’re blind and think that means you’d make a great victim. But now, if you have to, you’ll be able to demonstrate that’s not true.” She added, almost to herself, “Not that you appreciate it.”
“What does that mean?”
“Because your eyes don’t see, you’ve forgotten that you still roll them whenever you think someone’s full of it. And I’ve seen plenty of eye rolls from you. When I’m just trying to do my job.”
Heat climbed Cheyenne’s face. She hated rude people, but now it sounded like she was one. And if she rolled her eyes in front of Jaydra, who else had seen her do it? Scrambling for words, all she came up with was “I’m sorry. But you can’t judge me for something I don’t even know I’m doing.”
“What you don’t understand is I would give my life for you.”
Cheyenne was finally goaded into speaking the truth. “You’re just saying that. That’s what you’re paid to say.”
“You think I’m joking?” Jaydra’s voice was cold.
“Look, I appreciate it, I really do, but talking about sacrificing yourself is kind of hyperbole, isn’t it? You’re basically my babysitter. You’re just here to make up for my dad and Danielle feeling guilty.”
“This has nothing to do with Nick and Danielle. But you wouldn’t understand,” Jaydra said, and then stopped.
After the silence stretched on too long, Cheyenne said, “What wouldn’t I understand?”
“When I was a kid, my parents were missionaries in Pakistan. There were rumors that because we were Americans, we must be rich. My little sister and I were kidnapped. Tied up, held in a hut for days. I managed to escape. She didn’t.”
Cheyenne knew what it was like to be tied up and held captive. She knew what it was like to escape. But she had survived. “Wait. Do you mean your sister was, like…” She couldn’t finish her sentence.
“Jessalyn was killed. Yes.”
“How old was she?” Cheyenne asked softly.
Jaydra’s voice roughened. “Just thirteen.” Her tone made it clear the topic was closed. “I decided I didn’t want another family to ever go through what we did.”
“I’m sorry,” Cheyenne said haltingly.
Instead of answering, Jaydra made a shushing sound. Cheyenne felt her straighten up.
Suddenly, the car cornered, tires squealing. Hard enough that Cheyenne’s seat belt cut into her neck.
“What’s the matter?” Jaydra’s driving was always carefully controlled.
“Someone might be following us.”
Cheyenne thought of the man snatched as he walked away from the diner, the man taken from his car before he could even retrieve the paper. Her mouth filled with bile as her lunch threatened to come back up.
They were going so fast that, even in the cocooned bubble of the car’s interior, she could hear the engine revving. She pushed her feet against the floor and put her hands out to brace herself.
“Get your hands off the dash,” Jaydra rapped out. “If the airbag deploys, it will break your arms.”
Another hard corner, the tires chattering. The car whined as it accelerated. What would happen next? Would their car be rammed? Would someone shoot at them? Would they spin out of control? Cheyenne pictured herself being dragged screaming from smoking wreckage.
Then unexpectedly the car began to slow.
Jaydra let out a relieved laugh. “Guess I was being paranoid. He just pulled into a driveway and got out. It was only an idiot with no idea of proper stopping distance.”