The newspaper crackled as I turned the pages after nightfall at the nearby Denny's, searching for a job. The money I had would only get me so far, after all, and clothing, hotel rooms and bus tickets had already put a hefty dent in my cash. A job was in order so I could take some time, build up a larger reserve and review my limited options. It would have to be a night job, too—that was a no-brainer. After all, plenty of people worked at night: hotel desk clerks, all-night service station attendants, fry cooks at Denny's—the list was narrow and far from perfect. I sighed, pretended to sip my black coffee and kept looking.
One job fit my requirements; cleaning offices at night. The work hours were ten at night until six in the morning. I circled that and hoped somebody would be there before dawn or late at night so I could interview. I also circled a waitress job, a job delivering bundles of newspapers to hotels (I'd need a car for that one) and a night security guard. That was a possibility since it was for a nearby college. Belatedly, I wondered if I needed to know how to shoot a gun. There was also an ad for a personal bodyguard, asking for night hours. I circled that.
My evening meal came from a man in the motel parking lot who was climbing into his car to go barhopping. He was smiling and asking me to go with him after I finished. "No, I just want you to go have a good time and forget about me," I instructed, patting his shoulder cordially. His eyes went blank as he started his car and drove away, almost running over my toes when he left me standing there. After hopping aside to keep my toes from becoming tread toast, I resolved to phrase my instructions more carefully from then on.
The phone rang four times at the number for the personal bodyguard before somebody picked up. It was the last and only number answered by a human on my list. "Yeah?" The voice didn't sound happy.
"I was calling about the bodyguard position listed in the paper," I said.
"A girl?" He sounded a little snarly.
"Yes."
"Be at this address in an hour." He gave an address, which I hastily wrote down and hung up immediately after verifying. Not one for words, I suppose. A cab dropped me off at the designated address and the driver handed off a card with his cell number so I could call when the interview was over. I didn't know whether I liked all the male fawning and attention or not; it was certainly a new experience for me. We'd pulled into a circle drive after passing tall, wrought iron gates that stood open. Wondering if the gates were normally shut, I stared around me as I walked to the front door of the huge, three story mansion and pressed the doorbell. Somebody had lots of money; there was no doubt about that.
The door opened and I found a tall, very nice looking man with black hair and nearly black eyes standing there, dressed completely in dark clothing. He didn't have time to say anything, merely drawing in a sharp breath before another man, dressed in denim head to toe, rocketed through the door and barreled right into me. My reflexes were much faster now, I discovered as I flung the attacker to the side. He snarled and came right back after me. I backhanded him, knocking him into the wall beside the door. That slowed him down a bit. The tall, dark-haired man watched the drama unfolding before him on the wide verandah, his arms crossed casually over his chest as if a battle weren't going on all around him. His lips curved in an amused smile as my assailant slid down the wall. My attacker was a little stiff when he rose and lurched toward me, so I grabbed him by the collar of his denim jacket and tossed him easily off the porch. He landed with a satisfying crunch a good ten feet away, right in the middle of the paved circular drive.
"What the hell was that?" I asked, staring at the crumpled heap in the driveway.
"Your new boss," the tall man replied, grinning. "Davis, get up and get back in here!" He shouted at the man.
"Maybe I should go help him," I said, thinking I wasn't making any points by beating the crap out of the guy.
Davis rolled over on his side, managed to come up on all fours and then slowly stood. He looked at me and then wobbled over. "Where the hell did you learn how to hit like that?" he asked, wiping his bleeding lip with a knuckle.
"It's a newly acquired skill," I replied.
"I am William Winkler," the tall man said, offering his hand. I took it.
"Lissa Haddon," I gave my new name.
"Come in, Lissa, and we'll talk salary," William Winkler said, so I followed him inside the house. Davis came in behind me, a little slower than he'd gone out.
Chapter 3
"Davis and you will be the night guards, Glen and Phil are the day guards," Winkler informed me after we settled on thirty-seven thousand as a starting salary. It included a room in the guesthouse so that was all right with me; I just hoped there weren't too many windows to block. Winkler owned a nationwide electronic security company plus an armored car service and farmed out security guards to banks and the like. Having a bunch of personal bodyguards seemed a little paranoid to me but I kept that to myself.
"We patrol the property," Davis informed me, rubbing his left shoulder as we walked around the edges of Winkler's expansive grounds later. The house was huge, sitting on four acres of well-kept lawn. An eight-foot concrete and stucco wall surrounded the property and the iron gate that had been open when I arrived was now closed and would require a code to get in. "Nobody comes in unless we're expecting them," Davis added. "Winkler has a personal assistant who answers calls and the like during the daytime. You're lucky I was there to get the phone when you called."
"Sorry about the shoulder," I said. "I had no idea who was attacking me. It was reflex."
"I'll remember not to jump you next time," he rotated his arm a little, trying to get his shoulder to loosen up. "The other guys come on around six-thirty," he said. I mentally gulped, hoping I could get to my room before the sun came up and that I wouldn't fry if I had to go on duty before the sun was completely down. I'd find out, I suppose. Again, I wished for the latest version of the Vampire Manual.
My hand covered a yawn the next morning as I was introduced to Glen and Phil, the day guys. Seems I had the whole top floor of the guesthouse to myself. Glen and Phil, having seniority, got bedrooms inside the house and had the extra duty of jumping and running at night if anything got past Davis and me. I also discovered that I could deal with a bit of muted light but the brighter it was, the more uncomfortable I became. I was glad to hole up in my top floor guesthouse suite where there were light blocking shades, installed specifically for day sleepers. My alarm was set for six so I could grab a quick shower before going to work. The only remaining dilemma was finding a meal.