Recap:
I was about to correct him when Mr. Shaw, who looked up and followed Mr. Jones's gaze to me, spoke first. "She’s your new bodyguard, Craig." I saw Mr. Jones look at me again before turning to Mr. Shaw with, what I’m sure was going to be some comment about my gender and, because of the look of sudden anger on his face, I knew there was going to be some shouting. Great, it's my first day, I only just started officially on the job and I was about to witness an argument, probably one of many, breakout between Mr. Shaw, the manager, and Mr. Jones, the star. It’ll be interesting to see who wins I thought to myself hiding a small grin.
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Chapter 3
"I told you I didn't need one! And she's a girl! What is she going to protect me from? A spider, no wait she's probably scared of them!" Mr. Jones shouted at Mr. Shaw, not seeming to realise, or care, that I could hear him.
Mr. Shaw, who looked unfazed by the shouting, simply suggested. "We should discuss this when we get to your dressing room." I'm sure that Mr. Jones would have answered if it hadn't been for what happened next.
I had seen a man twice my size heading towards us starring at Mr. Jones, with what could only be called a death glare. I recognised him as one of the people from the crowd but didn't think it was an autograph he was coming to get. I stepped in front of him, blocking his approach and said "I'm sorry you're not allowed back here. Mr. Jones will be signing autographs afterwards." The man barely spared me a glance, only to see if he could get past, before trying to barge past me. No one was talking behind me, so I guessed they were watching this interaction, this would be my chance to show Mr. Jones I could protect him and myself perfectly fine.
I grabbed the charging man's arm as he tried to pass me, he didn't notice and kept walking which is what I wanted him to do, when he had gotten far enough so that his arm was behind him, I bent the arm I was holding and shoved it up his back, coincidentally forcing him into a wall, in the position of the police man's hold, which I know from experience to be painful. The man still tried to get free but I just took hold of his other arm, straightened it out and pushed against it, so that it was in such a position that if I applied more pressure it would break.
"You should stop struggling or I might break your arm, and I’m sure you wouldn't want that." I threatened him. I kept applying pressure as I turned to see shocked faces all round, and addressed Mr. Lloyd "Could you phone the police, Mr. Lloyd? This man needs to be held and questioned."
Mr. Lloyd seemed to remember what was going on instead of just staring and replied, "I'll go do it now. Do you need any help with him?"
"No, I have him under control." I answered. Mr. Lloyd didn't look convinced but still left to phone the police without comment, as he walked away he rubbed his bald head, which I had noticed in my short time in his presence meant he was worried
I ignored the others and turned back to the man I had hold of. In my back pocket I had handcuffs, which all employees were expected to carry while on the job just in case of situations just like this one where we needed some way to restrain someone. I used my shoulder instead of my hand to apply pressure to the police man's hold, while I used my now free hand to fish the handcuffs out of my back pocket. I got them out and put it first around the hand I had in the position that could break his arm, then the other one. When I was done I turned him around so he was facing me, bracing my right arm across his chest and holding his shoulder with my left hand and asked "What were you trying to do?"
The man just glared at me with his blue eyes and then tried to get out of my hold. It must have looked like I couldn't hold him because I heard walking in my direction, probably with the intention to help but I was in control of the situation. To prove it and make the guy stop struggling I squeezed his shoulder hitting a specific pressure point making the man fall to his knees. I noticed as this happened that the person stopped their approach. "I asked you a question." I said in a threatening voice looking the man right in the eyes, while maintaining my hold on his shoulder but not applying any pressure for the moment.
The man decided to answer my question by head butting me in the stomach. It winded me but I didn't let it show, I just gripped the man's shoulder, making him give a little cry of pain. The person, who had been coming over before, reached my side and I saw it was Mr. Jones. No wonder the man was fighting me so much. "Let me help you, seeing as you’re having problems." Mr. Jones said scathingly.
I had recovered from my winding, enough to be able to speak properly. "I'm fine. The only reason he's fighting me in the first place is because you're so close to him. He came here with the intent to do something to you and now that you're within his range so he’s struggling. It would be better Mr. Jones, if you were to go and get ready for your gig." The man I was holding seemed slightly shocked by my outburst but still continued to struggle so I squeezed the man’s shoulder while twisting him back to face the wall and pushing him against it, hoping that in taking his target from his line of sight, he would struggle less. It seemed to be working.
Mr. Jones gave me a look as if to say 'yeah, right' before walking off in a huff down the corridor towards his dressing room. At least that put him out of the way, I’d deal with him later once this man was taken away. Two police officers turned up five minutes later and I explained what had happened. They changed the handcuffs on the man and handed me mine back, before leaving with the man. I told them to send a report to Mark who could then give it to me when I next checked in because I didn’t know where I was going to be by the time they finished questioning the man which could be at any time of day.
I looked at the crowd and the people backstage, scanning for any signs of trouble and when I was satisfied that everything seemed normal enough, I went and to Mr. Jones's dressing room.
I could hear them talking about me, well more like Mr. Jones shouting as Mr. Shaw was talking too quietly for me to hear, as I arrived outside the door and decided to knock, knowing I was better off not hearing what Mr. Jones had to say about me after his last comment.
Mr. Shaw opened the door and without looking and snapped “What?” while still not turning to see who it was until I spoke. "Just thought you should know the man's been taken to the police station and everything appears to be safe and secure now."
Mr. Shaw was going to reply when I heard Mr. Jones snort and say "Really? Like before, I suppose, when that man tried to attack me." He didn't bother looking at me just sat at a mirror watching the woman's ass, who was standing beside him, sorting out his hair. Great, it looked like I was stuck with a womanizer, who hadn't learnt his lesson even after being in ambushed and threatened about it.
I could tell we were going to get on as well as a cat and a dog, not at all in other words. "I saw him in the crowd, but neither his picture nor his description were included in the file of people that need to be kept away from you. Also I managed to spot the man, stop his attack, and restrain him before anyone else noticed but then you were stupid enough to come near the man who clearly intended to harm you." Normally I keep things polite with clients, but this man was starting to get on my nerves, so my calling him stupid, was the equivalent of someone else shouting in anger.
Mr. Jones stood up and walked over to me, stopping a few feet from me and asked in a menacing voice "What did you call me?" I'm guessing calling him stupid wasn't a good idea, even though it was a minor insult by anyone’s standards.
"Calm down, Craig. What she meant was you shouldn't have gone and stood next to the guy that had just tried to attack you." Mr. Shaw told him, calming him down. Mr. Jones just huffed and walked off, exactly like a big kid. I was going to have my work cut out with him. "She's going to be your bodyguard, no arguments, you need one."
"She won't last long, but while she's here get her to call me Craig and not 'Mr. Jones' " He instructed, while doing a bad imitation of my voice.
Mr. Shaw agreed and then ushered me outside the dressing room, closing the door behind him. "Please just call him Craig and try to keep out of his way where possible, I don't need you two bickering when I have enough problems to deal with already." Of course, I’m the one that started the bickering because I only did my job and then informed the guy of his stupid move back there. Maybe I should have just left this job to George; it would have saved me all this hassle.
"Okay.” I agreed, knowing I needed to put aside my annoyance with the guy and get back to protecting him, even if that meant I had to sometimes to protect him from himself. “Could I have a copy of his schedule? I'll need it in advance so I know where we're going and what’s happening." I explained. Mr. Shaw opened the dressing room slightly to pick up a couple of sheets of a chair that he then handed over to me before closing the door, leaving me outside the dressing room alone.
Looking at the sheets, which appeared to be a week plan, I saw that he mostly had events here, at Marty's, which I was glad of because it would be one place I could guarantee was secure. There were also other places I recognised on the list, and had checked out previously for other jobs, so I knew what they’re security was like and their layout.
Today’s schedule was a gig at 9:30am for an hour before a press conference at 12:30pm about the incident with Malory and Kyle Banner, at the Capitol building in the centre of town. Then there was a meal planned for 1:30pm with, fellow on the rise star, Jason Golding. After that there was nothing else scheduled for the rest of the day which, in all likelihood meant I’d be escorting Mr. Jones, or rather Craig, to some parties. Although looking at tomorrow’s schedule I noticed that a studio was booked for 6am, so hopefully that meant an early night.
I put the Sheets in the front pocket of my jeans and kept on the lookout for anything suspicious. The reason I had called Craig Jones by his last name, like every other person I met, was out of respect and so they wouldn't think I was doing more than my job. I had learnt this the hard way when I was on my first job and hired to protect a thirty year old from his father. I had called him by his first name, not thinking anything of it and he'd taken it the wrong way. It was a good thing that George was working with me and managed to get the guy off me when he realised what was going on. I knew at the time what to do to get out of the situation but the shock of it happening and the immediate panic made my mind go blank. I dread to think what would’ve happened if George hadn’t come in when he did.
George and I had gotten along before the incident but we were now close friends and both competed for the jobs that Mark got for us. George may be more experienced in this business but I was a fast learner and very logical in my approach to all matters, making us pretty much even. The point is that even after Mr. Shaw asked me to call Craig Jones by his first name, I would begrudgingly, but I would also try to use it as little as possible to prevent any misconceptions from happening.
The door opened behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts and out walked Craig looking more show ready. He was still wearing the same black jeans, that fit him snuggly but he had swapped his cheesy top for a dark blue one that had an explosion of colours on the front, his hair was now gelled into spikes and I think he was wearing mascara, as his eyelashes looked noticeably longer but then again I had been distracted when first meeting him. He didn't acknowledge me, just shoved past me and headed to the stage. I stopped myself from saying anything, took a calming breath and followed him, looking out for anyone who posed a threat.
Nothing happened this time, except loud screaming from everyone waiting in the public area when Craig got on stage. "Thank you! I'm gonna play a favourite song of mine, If today was your last day by nickelback." He told the audience. This was a surprise to me because I thought he would just sing his own songs, and nickelback was a band that I quite liked. I was surprised someone like him would like them; I would imagine him being more into the dubstep/dance kind of music.
It was ironic, Craig singing this song, because he was the complete opposite from what I’ve seen of him so far. Even now he had taken the mike off its stand and started prancing around on stage. I would have thought it was cool, if it was anyone but him doing it. All it did for me was cement the image I had already begun to form of him, a big spoilt attention seeking kid, stick in my mind more but to be fair it was an image that could fit with most famous people to some extent.
I had to stop myself from laughing out loud after I realised this song also suited him in one respect: if I wasn't here today could very well have been his last day. Okay, maybe that’s taking it too far but I definitely saved him another beating as the man had been clearly intending to harm him in some way.
Craig finally finished his cover of the song. I don't think I’ll be able to look at that song the same again, which was a shame as it was a good song. He did a few more covers of other peoples songs before doing one of his own. Listening to the words I could’ve guessed that it was one of his without him announcing it was because all it was about was women and money. I hadn't listened closely to his songs before, so I hadn’t heard the lyrics but now I did and felt disgusted. His songs showed him to be a sexist pig that only saw women as objects of pleasure and even then they could be easily exchanged. It made me wonder what society today was coming to, along songs like this to be played on the radio and live during the day time.
When Craig came off stage I walked in front of him, to look out of for any danger and to shield him from the public and the potential threat they posed. I checked out the dressing room before allowing him in. He must have noticed as I heard him ask sarcastically "Are you sure you don't want to check the flowers for tiny, hidden people as well?" I decided to ignore his comment.
We didn't stay long; just long enough for him to pack up his stuff, which was good as the gig had run over slightly. As was tradition among the rich and famous, we left via the back entrance where his car, which I was shocked to find wasn't a limo but in fact a Mercedes-Benz E-Guard in black, was waiting. There was no one around but I still lead the way, scanning for any trouble and watched Craig and Mr. Shaw get in the back before closing the down and getting in the front passenger seat next to the driver, who looked shockingly familiar.
"George?" I asked surprised. George was twenty-five and had been working for protection since he was my age. He had blonde shaggy hair that always looked like it was in need of a cut, piercing blue eyes that always seemed mischievous, and an ever present grin on his face. He was more muscular than lean and was wearing a white top that emphasized the fact. I was surprised to see he was also wearing blue, everyday jeans. I guess I was wrong about drivers having to wear suits.
He smiled as he pulled out. "Ro, what's occurring?" This was his usual greeting; he'd gotten off Gavin and Stacey and changed it from 'oh' to 'Ro'.
There was no parting between the front and back of the car, so I couldn't say what I wanted but settled for saying "The usual.” Instead of asking him the same back, I decided to get right to the point. “I never knew you had a part time job." I really didn't know what he was doing here but I suspected it wasn't just to drive Craig around but I wanted to see what he’d say before I called him on it.
"No, but shoot me if I ever decide to get a job like this. It's seriously boring, I think my butts gone to sleep again." He complained, still smiling. I laughed, he was always a joker. I thought of him as an older brother, I don't have one but if I did, I imagine they would be just like George. Before when we were sparring back at protection, training in between jobs, one of our colleagues asked if we were together. We both had a really good laugh over that before George answered with "No, no. We're more like brother and sister." Just remembering it made me smile.
"Do you two know each other?" Craig asked from the back. He made it sound like he was surprised I had any friends at all which I didn’t appreciate.
I held "Yes." Was all I said in answer, without even looking and then asked George "Did Mark put you up to this? Because I really don't need a babysitter." After what happened on my first job Mark had sent others to watch my back but stopped after I proved myself over and over without incident. The arrival of George seemed a bit suspicious, especially seeing as this job was kind of new territory for me with the amount of threats made against one person, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Mark had sent him to keep an eye on things.
"No, he knows you can handle yourself. There was another job going alongside the bodyguard position, so if you had rejected the job, we would be in each other's roles." George answered, without taking his eyes off the road. “I’ve got to say though; I wish you had been late. I would have much preferred to have been the bodyguard. ” He probably wouldn’t have had the trouble I had if he had been in my position this morning. He slid a sideways glance at me, paired with a mischievous smile before asking "Did you miss me? You seemed really happy when you realised it was me."
I gave him a playful punch on the shoulder, but not too hard because he was driving. "You wish. That was surprise you heard, Peters." I informed him, using his last name, Peters like I usually did when we bantered.
George had just parked the car when Craig asked "Are you two sleeping together?" He didn't even put it nicely or ask one of us separately, he just came right out with it, and managed to make it sound dirty.
"What a charmer." I heard George mutter, trying to hold in his laughter.
Mr. Shaw had just got out of the car to make a phone call, I decided to mess with Craig, he deserved after all those comments he made. I put on a straight face, only just managing to hold it, and turned to look at Craig. "What's it to you, if we are?" His face was priceless. His mouth opened and closed a few times as his face went red! I never thought I would see the day when he was embarrassed.
I burst out laughing and so did George. After a few minutes of uncontrollable laughter George turned and explained, I personally would have left it a bit longer "We're just good friends, more like siblings." Then he turned to me "Why does everyone always ask that?" He asked genuinely looking for an answer. I had managed to stop laughing by now and was getting out of the car. Craig got out the same side as me and George opposite me "I really don't know." I answered.
Craig shot me a glare before marching off toward the capital building. I waved to George before running to catch up to Craig, I started walking when I was beside him, "Running off when people are out to get you isn't a smart idea." I told him.
"I didn't run off, I walked away. It's not my fault if you’re slow." Craig retorted. Before I could reply Mr. Shaw walked over and stood on Craig's right side. Up ahead I could see a tonne of reporters, I was just about to take the lead when George appeared and did it for me. I was going to have a word with him later, he was doing my job and I wasn't just going to sit and take it.
I must of looked angry because I heard a laugh and turned to see Craig holding back more laughter, while giving me an amused look. I was really tempted to give him the finger, but restrained myself, as we had just entered the group of reporters.
Once inside Mr. Shaw and Craig went onto a little platform at the front, and both took seats in front of mics. I stood on the floor by the platform, and watched the crowd for any danger, George came and stood next to me doing the same. "What was that back there? You're encroaching on my job." I whispered.
"I got a call at 8am from Mark, telling me to get my butt into the office. He told me about your job and that Mr. Shaw also wanted a new driver, who could be a second bodyguard. I accepted and here I am now. If you thought I was stepping on your shoes, then I’ll back off a bit." George replied, he scratched his ear which, for him, was a nervous gesture.
"Okay. Sorry I snapped, it's just that Craig is, well, an asshole." He gave me a meaningful look when I said this, "Don't look at me like that, I was ordered to stop calling him Mr. Jones, and he really is an asshole. He makes all these comments about what I do because I’m a female bodyguard."
"If he tries anything, I’ll personally kill him for you." George reassured me with a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. I knew he was worried about me, but I had learnt to handle things, especially men, better since the first time.
About an hour into the press conference, questions were getting harder. At first they were concerned about Craig, so things like "Where you hurt badly in the fight between you and Kyle?" but now had turned to "Did you really sleep with Mallory Banner?" And "Is it true that you were abusive to a past girlfriends?"
Mr. Shaw started to look kind of panicked but all of the sudden that went away, and a slight smile appeared on his face, like he had just had a brilliant idea. "Craig is not an abusive person or boyfriend, his latest girlfriend can support this." Whispers went up and people asked the obvious question "whose Craig's girlfriend?" I was glad that I could fake a smile easily when camera's turned my way at what Mr. Shaw announced next, while pointing at me "Rochelle Thompson."