Until You Needed Me

LATER IN THE DAY, ARTIE RELIEVED DENNIS, WHO SAT ON SMYTHE’S sofa reviewing electronic applications of potential new team members. She glanced toward Smythe and assumed she was still seated in the same position since the last time she checked in on her. She casually strode into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and set the glass on the table in front of Smythe.

“It’s been several hours, and you haven’t moved from that seat. If you don’t mind me saying, you need to stay hydrated.”

Smythe picked up the glass and drank from it until she had drained it. She realized she was thirstier than she thought, but too engrossed in her learning to stop and do something about it.

“Thank you. I do tend toward dehydration, but I have shifted.”

Staring at the empty glass, Artie moved past Smythe and sat on the sofa.

“So, I’m curious, what have you learned today? I mean, your lessons.”

“Well, to begin with, I learned a pretty cool activity to help people begin to gain clarity. I then learned some language to use for a seminar that I am planning to offer when I get back from my first conference.”

Conference?! Seminar?! Artie made a mental note. “When is the conference?”

“In a couple of months. I’ll give you the calendar of trainings.”

“And the seminar?”

“I haven’t scheduled it yet. Once I do, I’ll let you know. There will probably be several of them. It’s required for my coaching and training certification, and they will prepare me for the conference.”

“Ok. That would be helpful. So, how has the learning helped you?”

“What do you mean?” Smythe said, annoyed.

“No offense, Smythe. I read your file. From where I’m sitting, you jumped off a ledge to pursue a dream. That takes a fair amount of courage. I know a lot of people wouldn’t have done what you did. I also know that even when you decided to jump, there still wasn’t a lot of clarity. People like you and me; we just know we need to jump. As we’re jumping, we figure things out. I’m wondering what you have learned that you can implement in your own life as it is right now.”

Smythe smiled and nodded. Settle down, Smythe. She’s just making conversation. “Sounds like you’ve had some experience with jumping.”

“I do. I was an FBI agent before becoming a criminal defense attorney in a large law firm. It was busy and very profitable. Only thing was, I wasn’t happy. My office was often defending some pretty bad people. I must admit that on at least one occasion, my firm’s clients did some horrendous things.” Artie paused, her eyes examining the geometric pattern of the front door.

Smythe gazed at Artie. “I’m sorry. That had to have been difficult. I do find it interesting that you’ve been on two sides of the law, though. Law enforcement and defense attorney. Sounds like you were at a bit of a crossroads back in the day.”

“Back in the day? I’m only seven years older than you!” Artie said with a smile, continuing to gaze at the front door.

“I was at a crossroads, though. My firm cost someone their life. It was a dark time for me then. A really dark time. Finally, I had enough. So, I took a step back, used some vacation time, and when I returned, I up and quit. I had to really figure out what I valued and what it was that lit a fire under me; what made me burn inside.”

“How did you do that?”

“By first determining what I didn’t want. I didn’t want the bureaucracy of the FBI or the District Attorney’s office, but I also didn’t want to get the bad guys off either. From there, I thought about what I wanted. What I discovered was that I am passionate about fighting for the underdog—the people caught in the middle of both worlds. I realized then that I have a keen sense of justice and fairness.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say, there are a lot of people who find themselves in difficult circumstances. They just need a little help to do the right thing for their lives. That’s where I decided to come in. So, I quit and opened up this agency. I knew just enough information to be dangerous, but I had crazy passion. With a lot of work and a fair amount of courage, I slowly built the business to what it is today. Many of my clients like you cooperate in FBI investigations.”

“A personal security agency?”

“Yes. It’s the best of both worlds. I don’t have bureaucracy nipping at my heels, running my decisions about cases by anyone, and I don’t have to defend bad guys.”

“Hmmm. I had never even heard of you until you showed up beside my car.”

Artie turned toward Smythe. “You didn’t need me until you needed me, and you wouldn’t have known about my agency anyway. I don’t advertise. I like to say my job is to make a mess of things behind the scenes and then put it all back together again seamlessly in favor of my client.”

“You mean like having your car hit instead of mine?”

“Well, kinda. And even at that, I’ve sat with what happened and analyzed it. Could I have done things differently? If so, what? I’m always fine-tuning. I have to. People’s lives are at stake. But, back to my original question. Has the learning helped you?”

“I have more questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Such as?”

“How do you get clients? I didn’t seek you out, yet I’m your client. How?”

“Referrals. All of my clients are referred to me, even you. You have a benefactor whose name even I don’t know. That person, for whatever reason, has a vested interest in keeping you alive.” Artie eyed Smythe. Although Carole would not reveal the name or the relationship the benefactor potentially had to Smythe, Artie wanted to figure it out. Now was as good a time as any to ask Smythe if she knew.

“So, you don’t know who it is? I thought it was the FBI,” Smythe said.

“No, it’s not the FBI. They do want to keep you alive, but they’re not footing the bill for your round-the-clock protection. I honestly don’t know who it is, but my referral says the person is legitimate. Do you know who the benefactor could be?”

Smythe’s eyes widened. “Why would I? I don’t know anyone with that kind of money. And I haven’t told anyone about what I saw. Except for Joao, and I just told him.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there.”

“No one knows you are protecting me except for the FBI.” Smythe remained quiet for a moment. “Artie, should I be worried? About who it is, I mean.”

“Nah. Worry is my job. Besides, whoever it is has got to be on our side. At any rate, you were asking me about how I get clients.”

“Yes. So, if all of your clients are referrals, that must make it difficult to get clients.”

“Actually, it doesn’t. With the work that I do, there is usually no shortage. Former clients, friends, or families of former clients—they all refer people to me. Some cases I take, some I do not. I just have to be patient. The right work always comes along. Even when hiring new agents. There is never a shortage of applicants.” Artie smirked as she thought about those who had applied for a position in her agency. Current and former law enforcement, ex-military personnel. Everyone wanted to work with her.

“So, am I the right work?”

“Yes, you are.”

Smythe sat perfectly still, pondering Artie’s response.

“Why am I the right—”

“You ready to answer my question?”

Smythe scrunched her nose. “Sure. The year-long training program I’m now getting into, which may seem otherworldly, I’m actually convinced will allow me to continue training and coaching but at a much deeper level than I have at any other time in my career. Of course, there will be opportunities to weave this knowledge into some of my prior courses and offer them to organizations, which really excites me. Yet, honestly, when I strip away that side of my business, the thing that ignites my fire is writing. I have a constant novel in my head at all times. I’m always creating a storyline, especially as I’m learning new concepts.”

“I’d love to read some of your work sometime.”

“Perhaps. But it all has to get written. So, I spend about two-thirds of my day working on the business side of things and devote one third to writing.”

“Makes for some long days, I’m sure.”

“Usually, about 16-17 hours.”

“I’ll let you get back to it then.”

Smythe smiled. It was nice to get to know a more personal side of her protector. She continued to work until early evening, and by the time she completed her day, she was mentally exhausted. She found herself beginning to nurse a slight headache and realized she was ravenous. She sighed as she walked toward her bedroom. It was very much like Smythe to go for several hours—sometimes a full twelve hours—before she would wrestle herself into the kitchen to make a bite to eat.

Not good, she thought. You’re increasing your mileage and need fuel.

While Smythe changed clothes, Artie sprung for pizza for her team and had them deliver a box to the apartment. Once Artie and Smythe finished dinner, they watched whatever was on one of the few channels Smythe paid for on television. As the evening turned to night, Smythe excused herself for bed.

“I’d like to get a five-mile run in before I head to the baker’s shop tomorrow. It’s been a few days, and I really feel the need to run.”

“Outside?! I don’t think so.”

“No. The gym here at the complex.”

“Ok. When are you getting up?”

“Probably 2:00 a.m.”

“Ooof! Is this a habit?! Because if it is, 9 p.m. is a bit late to be going to bed.”

“Yes. Lately, it’s been a normal wake up time. At least if I want to run before seeing the baker, which I do. I’m sorry to have kept you up. Thank you again for dinner. It was very thoughtful of you.”