I half expect Manuel to open the door when I arrive at Violet’s loft apartment. But the stoic security guard is nowhere in sight when the country singer flings open the heavy, metal door to her home.
“Oh, good. I was worried you were going to back out on me.” Violet smiles wide, stepping back to wave me inside.
“This is nice,” I offer, gesturing around her place. The loft is smaller than I thought it would be. Not that it’s small. The place has ceilings high enough for two floors, and my guess is the square footage is the same amount as in my whole house. But from what I can see, this main room is all there is other than an open door that leads off to a bathroom.
I spy Violet’s bed arranged against a brick wall on the far side of the space.
“I like an open floor plan,” the singer explains, striding over to the kitchen area, her bare feet padding lightly across the hardwood floor.
I guess this apartment makes sense when I connect it to Violet’s personality rather than what I expect her net worth is. Open, airy, honest. And then there’s the array of instruments hanging on the spaces of wall between each tall window.
The complete exposure makes it even clearer that Manuel isn’t around, unless he’s hunkered down in the clawfoot tub.
“No security shadow today?” I follow her to the butcher-block kitchen island and see a neatly arranged selection of finger foods. A lot of them we bought together on the grocery store run.
“Nope. Figured my self-defense coach wasn’t someone I needed to worry about.” Her warm, welcoming expression falters. “Shit. Was that wrong? Should I be on guard here too?”
“No.” I hold up my hands, trying to show there’s nothing she needs to worry about from me. “I don’t want to train you to distrust everyone in your life.” Even though that’s kind of par for the course with me. “You’ll become paranoid if you live like that.”
Violet’s tension drains away, relief suffusing her face. “Okay. Yeah. He lives just across the hall though. If I need him.”
“Really?”
Violet nods as she pulls open her fridge. “My brother bought the apartment. He’s the one who hired Manuel. Do you want something to drink?” She rattles off a list of beverages, and because I’m trying to get comfortable in this whole Violet-is-my-friend thing, I accept a beer.
That earns me a beaming expression. “If you’re drinking a beer, then that means I can! Hell yeah!”
My mouth creeps up in a smile when she passes a cold bottle to me. But what she said just before the drink offer sticks in my mind.
“Your brother really bought a place for your security guard in your building?”
Violet takes a deep draw of her drink before answering. “He’s overprotective. Not without cause. But I already told you about that.”
She had. When Violet and I first met, she described an incident with a delusional fan that almost ended in her losing her life.
“I guess I’m not surprised by what he did. More that your brother is the one doing it.”
Shit. Put a woman in front of me who’s offering to be my friend, and I suddenly start picking at inner scabs that should be left alone.
Violet hops up on a padded stool and then pats the one beside her. Hesitantly, I join.
“You got some brother problems too?”
I shrug, then take a long pull from my beer. The fizz and subtle hint of alcohol put me at ease, and more truth leaks out of me.
“Yeah, but not like you. I guess I’m always the one trying to be the protector.”
Violet smirks. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
I snort. “Right? But they’re not like you. I mean, something happened to you. You had no control over it. But my brothers…hell, for a while there I felt like they wanted to fuck up their lives. Like that was their goal. And I tried to keep it from happening, but everything went south anyway.”
When I found out Dash and Leo got caught in a hot car, that they were in jail and waiting for trial, something in my chest crumpled. I’d failed them, and I couldn’t help.
Now they’re out, and Dash has cleaned up his life.
But I’m back to trying to save Leo.
“Well, I can’t say I know what that feels like, since I’ve only ever been the kid sister. But—” Violet taps the neck of her bottle to mine. “—even when my brother goes overboard with his protective shit, I can never get too mad. ’Cause I get that he’s doing it all because he loves me. Which is why I may give Manuel a hard time, but I don’t try to duck him or anything. Which I bet I could do now that I’m taking your lessons.” She winks at me, and we share a laugh. “Anyway, I’m just saying, if your brothers are any kind of smart, they realize what you do for them and appreciate your love.”
Suddenly, my cheeks grow very warm. No one has ever complimented me on my loving ability before. Normally I get called a bitch, and I embrace that moniker.
“Maybe,” I mutter before sipping my beer.
“And now you have Charlie!” She holds her beer up as if in a toast. “He seems like a capable guy. You’re not protecting him too, are you?”
My mouth pops open, then slowly closes as I consider her words.
In the beginning, I thought I would be. Providing him a place to live and paying him part of my inheritance. Being his sugar momma. But this past week together, I haven’t felt like his caretaker. Maybe we’ve fashioned together a different kind of relationship.
“He’s more like my partner,” I admit.
Violet reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. “That’s great. That sounds like exactly what you need. And after a few drinks, I’m going to ask you for all the dirty details, but right now I need to show you the real reason I asked you to come.”
There’s a twisting in my stomach. This is where Violet asks me about security measures for her apartment or to rate the foods in her pantry based on their nutritional values. Things I’m not opposed to doing, but I’d hoped this interaction could deviate from my professional life.
Violet hops off her stool and jogs over to a giant TV. Woven baskets sit on the bottom of the TV stand, and she pulls one out, removing crinkly, folded mats that when unrolled reveal huge arrows pointing in different directions.
“Have you ever played Dance Dance Revolution?”
“I—what?”
“DDR. I tried playing by myself, but it’s no fun that way. And Manuel said I could double his salary and he still wouldn’t step on—these are his words—that electronic monstrosity.” She gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen. And Dash can lay them on thick when he wants. “Will you play with me?”
Suddenly, I start laughing. I don’t know where the sound comes from, but hell, does the bubbling joy of it feel good. I let the sound roll through me, then I throw back my beer and wipe away the dribble from the side of my mouth.
“You better not be a sore loser,” I taunt.
Her returning grin has a hint of evil I’ve never seen on her sweet face. “Cocky much? You might be able to take me down in the gym, but this is DDR.” Violet arranges the mats in front of the entertainment center. “Get ready to get your ass kicked.”