Janet Evanovich - The Rocky Road to Romance

“What?”

“The agency is sending three people. You can interview them and take your pick. They’re to meet you at the park in two hours so arrange your route accordingly.” Before she could answer he turned and strode away.

“I don’t want a guard!” she shouted, but he was gone.

At one o’clock he called on the car phone.

“How’s everything going?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

“Do you have a guard with you?”

“Yup.”

“Good. I’ll meet both of you at the garage tonight. I want to make the terms of the job clear to him.”

Daisy gave her last report at three-fifty-five, and the newscar reached the garage ten minutes later. Steve was waiting for her. Daisy got out and waved to him, and an old lady followed her. The old lady had steel gray hair curled neat and tight against her skull. She was shorter than Daisy and as slim, but not so curvy. She wore clean white tennis shoes and carried a big patent-leather purse with a gold snap top. There wasn’t anyone else in the newscar.

“What happened to the guard?” Steve asked.

“I didn’t feel comfortable with any of them,” Daisy told him. “So I got my own guard. I hope that’s okay.”

The old lady held out her hand. “Elsie Hawkins. Rough and Ready Security Guard Service.”

Steve felt his mouth drop open. He shifted his weight and looked at both women, trying to determine if this was a joke. “I’ve never heard of Rough and Ready Security Guard Service.”

“It was one of them mail-order courses,” Elsie said. “But it’s legit. I got a certificate and everything. I did it while I was on the mend in the nursing home.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Damn serious,” Elsie said.

“You graduated from guard school while you were in a nursing home?”

“Yup. I broke my hip skiing in Vermont, and they had to put one of them steel contraptions in, so I took this correspondence course to keep from going nuts in rehab.”

She lifted her right leg. “See? It’s almost as good as new. Except of course I have to be careful about going out in an electrical storm with all these metal parts.”

Steve searched for words but couldn’t find any.

“That’s a joke,” Elsie said. She shook her head at Daisy. “He’s a looker, but he’s not too bright.”

“Excuse us,” Steve said to Elsie, pulling Daisy by the arm. “I’d like to talk to Miss Adams in private a moment.”

He walked Daisy five cars down and backed her against a van. “What’s going on? What’s with the squirrelly old lady?”

“She’s not squirrelly. She’s perfectly capable. And she really did graduate from the Rough and Ready Security Guard School. I saw her certificate. We had a nice ceremony for her at the rehabilitation center.”

Steve pulled Daisy back to Elsie Hawkins. “I’m sorry, Miss Hawkins, but I don’t think this is going to work. Miss Adams’s life is in danger, and I need a real guard.”

“Stop the presses,” Daisy said. “Elsie is a real guard, and she’s the one I chose.” She thumped herself on the chest. “I’m the one who has to spend all day with this guard person.” Another thump. “I’m the one who should be concerned about her qualifications.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a snap of her head. “I’m the one who is ultimately responsible for my personal safety. So I should have the last word in picking out my guard. And another thing. It would be hypocritical of me to discriminate against the elderly.”

“I’m the one paying the bill. And I’m the one losing sleep over it,” Steve said.

Elsie made a disgusted sound with her tongue. “Well, make up your minds if you want me. This isn’t the only security-guard job in town, you know. And I got better things to do than to stand here and watch you two argue. I gotta be home by six to see a TV show about blood pressure.”

Steve smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I don’t believe this. This is insane.” He looked at Daisy. “What is this woman going to do if someone threatens you?”

Elsie pulled a.45 magnum long-barrel out of her pocketbook and leveled it at Steve’s zipper. “I’d shoot him in the privates. Some people aim for the heart, some people like to gut-shoot a man, but I always aim for the privates. Word gets around when you shoot off a man’s privates. People get to be real careful of you. Yessir, I could blow a hole in you the size of a potato with this baby.”

“Holy cow!” Steve pushed Daisy behind a car. “Where’d you get that bazooka? And what are you doing carrying it around in your pocketbook?”

Elsie put the gun back in her purse and closed it with a firm snap. “Got it at a yard sale in the District,” Elsie said. “A woman’s got to protect herself. I’m an old lady, you know. It isn’t like I could give some pervert a karate chop.”

“It isn’t loaded, is it?”

“Of course it’s loaded, but you don’t have to worry. I know what I’m doing. You sure are a jumpy one,” she said to Steve.

“You have a license to carry a concealed weapon?”

“People keep asking me that. One of these days I’m going to have to look into it,” Elsie said.

Steve loosened his tie and popped the top button on his shirt. “I need a drink. Something cold that’s going to make me numb.”

“Drinking rots your liver,” Elsie told him. “And an ounce of alcohol kills a thousand brain cells.”

Steve thought it was pretty clear Elsie didn’t think he could afford to lose that many brain cells.

“I gotta roll,” Elsie said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” She climbed into a blue-and-white vintage Cadillac and rumbled away with a V-8 engine and dual exhaust system that sounded like distant thunder.

“I’ll follow you home,” Steve said to Daisy. “How about discussing this over dinner.”

“Sounds great, but I have to work at the nursing home tonight.” She looked at her watch. “I better get going, or I’ll be late.”

“How about after work?A late dinner?”

She chewed on her lower lip. It was tempting, but she was behind on her dissertation schedule. “Can’t. I have a ton of reading to do for school.”

His life wasn’t going well, Steve decided. Everything used to be so smooth. Women never said no, old ladies used to think he was bright, people he employed followed instructions. At least he had a dog. The thought lifted his spirits. He’d go home, take Bob out for a burger, and then they’d go run a couple fast miles together. Afterward they could watch television and maybe put a frozen pie in the oven for dessert. Pretty damn domestic, he thought to himself. He’d turned into a regular family man. An SUV, a dog, and a frozen pie.

Life didn’t get much better than that. Not tonight anyway.

When Steve got home there were seven notes tacked to his condo door about Bob’s howling and an eviction notice from the superintendent stating he’d violated the no-pet rule of the condo building. When Steve opened the door, Bob rushed out to the elevator. Steve pushed the emergency express button, but they only made it to the second floor before Bob humiliated himself. They continued on down to the basement parking garage, where they quickly exited the elevator. Steve pushed the elevator button for the penthouse, then he and Bob went out in search of a Realtor.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said to Bob. “It wasn’t your fault. You did the best you could. I guess a dog doesn’t belong in a condo.” Bob looked depressed, so Steve patted his head. “We’re going to buy you a nice house. One with a big fenced-in yard.” A house that was closer to Daisy, Steve thought. A house that had enough room for a few dozen kids-just in case. Omigod . Did I just have a thought about kids? Where’d that come from?