Friday 8:43 am

A departure from the usual, it was the smells that woke me up this time. Savory bacon mixed with the sweet, earthy scent of maple syrup and the strong aroma of coffee was a more pleasant way to wake up than having your phone scream at you.

“What the hell smells so good?” I mumbled, blinking the sleep out of my eyes as I looked around the room. Light spilled in from behind me, rays bouncing off the hardwood floors and carpets to provide dim illumination in which to see my surroundings. I was lying naked in the largest bed I’d ever slept in, surrounded by an accumulation of furniture and luxury items that totaled more than I could have earned in a year a week ago. I laid my head against the pillow and stared at the ceiling, sorting through the memories of what happened to me after I left Emily.

Erin happened to me. She spent the next two hours draining every drop of pent-up energy Ashlee had cultivated in me with her little stunt. She gave me another lapdance, stripping completely naked now that her body was no longer a mystery to me. Then, once sufficiently teased to the point that I was about to go mad with lust, she gave me a brief blowjob, made sure it was sufficiently coated in saliva, climbed back in my lap, and gave me an agonizingly slow handjob while I kissed all over her bronzed skin. I became very familiar with her firm breasts, and I think I could have sketched her arm tattoo by memory at this point.

She seemed to have an issue with Ashlee pursuing me, but that hadn’t stopped her from insisting that I look at the photos the paralegal left on my phone. She looked along with me, stroking my shaft and whispering all manner of dirty things like what I should do to the younger woman; Erin had the imagination of a degenerate.

Even wilder, after I’d gotten off in her hand, she had me eat her out while she looked through the pictures, describing in vivid detail all the heinous things she would love to do to Ashlee. She confessed a long-time attraction to the younger woman and came hard on my face as she alternated between my name and hers. When I climbed over her intending to bury my cock in her pussy, which was the only place my cock hadn’t been, she asked me to let her blow me instead. Apparently, she had something special in mind for our first actual fuck. She hadn’t steered me wrong yet, so I complied.

Still lying in bed, I looked over and saw an Erin-shaped impression in the sheets, but she was nowhere to be found. I sat up, trying my best to grapple with the fact that I was once again conscious, and spotted a dark blue silk robe lying on the bed. Slipping it on along with some underwear, I made my way downstairs and headed toward the sound of voices and laughter.

I found Emily and Erin sitting at a corner of the large kitchen island talking to each other, laughing at something. However, they weren’t alone; Vikram was standing halfway down the kitchen island, sipping on a cup of coffee and thumbing through some papers with an amused smile at something Erin said that I hadn’t caught. He was impeccably dressed as always, in a sharp suit and tie, a haircut that probably cost a hundred dollars or more, and a well-groomed beard that came dangerously close to looking like he’d just skipped shaving for a few days. He had the typical look of a man about to stride into a board meeting.

The same was true of Erin, who looked like a million bucks in a lovely, black-and-white skirt and jacket combo. She wore large gold earrings and a gold necklace that complemented her skin beautifully. Seeing her there, looking elegant as she carefully pressed her dark-stained lips to the rim of her coffee, made the memory of last night especially arousing. Contrast was a beautiful thing; food tasted better when you were hungry, a warm fire was more welcome when you were chilled to the bone, and the memory of your assistant as an insatiable hellcat was so much more arousing when you saw her as a flawless professional the next day.

On the other hand, Emily matched my unkempt demeanor, wearing a bathrobe similar to mine with damp hair from what I assumed was a shower. However, the natural look didn’t detract much. She never wore much make-up… just a bit of blush and eyeliner to emphasize her Nordic looks and stunning pale grey eyes, so seeing her fresh-faced wasn’t much different from the norm. 

There was one other person in the room. A man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties wore all white and stood in front of the massive stove set into the marble countertop of the kitchen. He was slicing through a slab of meat, creating long strands of what looked like fresh, thick bacon, and slapping them on the large griddle-like surface next to large, fluffy pancakes frying next to them.

Emily spotted me in the middle of a sip of coffee. “Oh, Marcus! Hey!”

Everyone but the chef looked toward me.

“There’s a party in my house and I wasn’t invited?” I gruffed. I wasn’t offended by the gathering. I just wasn’t a morning person.

Erin grinned at me and said, “I would have invited you, but I didn’t want to wake you up. I believe you’ve already met Vikram from YPV, and this,” she indicated toward the man cooking bacon, “is Chef Joel Martinez. Joel, this is Marcus Upton.”

“Good to meet you, sir. I’d shake your hand,” Joel said, glancing at me, “but…”

“All good,” I said as I approached the island and pulled up a stool next to Emily. “It’s good to meet you. Did I hire you?” I looked at Erin and asked, “Did I hire him?”

“No,” Erin replied, “Joel is the Head Chef at The Laramey. It’s my father’s country club. I talked to the manager there and made a generous donation on your behalf in exchange for letting him work here temporarily until we can make a different arrangement.”

Joel turned and set an omelet that I hadn’t noticed on a plate in front of me, then followed it up with two pancakes that looked like they had blueberries and bananas in them. He glanced at me and asked, “Coffee?”

“Please,” I begged, and he set a cup of hot, frothy caffeine before me, and I picked it up, trying not to look too enthusiastic. It tasted amazing - thick and creamy, sweetened to perfection with a hint of cinnamon or nutmeg.

“I’m here,” Vikram chimed in, “Because I was just going over some recommendations for your security meetings. Your grandfather found his original security firm through some of our recommendations, so Erin reached out to us for some names. She asked me to put together some names and come help out with some pre-interview work and weed out some of the candidates that obviously wouldn’t be a good match.”

“I thought it would be a good idea to maybe get some people familiar with your grandfather’s situation to work for you. We’ll set up Vikram downstairs and set you up in one of the rooms on the second floor.” Erin said.

I half-listened as she started laying out today’s agenda, not quite able to fully comprehend complex thoughts until the coffee kicked in. I took my first bite of the omelet and immediately dropped my fork on the countertop. It clattered across the stone surface and startled everyone else. Joel spun around, his eyes wide, and Erin’s words died instantaneously.

I immediately buried my face in my hands. “Oh my fuck! Joel, what the hell did you put in this!?”

“What?” Joel responded. His tone sounded a little scared.

I peered from my fingers, “This is one of the single best things I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

“Jesus, Marcus!” Emily said with a chuckle. “You can’t scare everyone like that. A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“You’re one to talk,” Erin scoffed. “You proposed to the man less than fifteen minutes ago.”

I hadn’t known that food could taste that good and spent the next ten minutes scarfing down everything Joel put in front of me as Erin and Vikram filled me in on the security situation. I was to have a primary bodyguard who would be with me at all times. They would live in one of the many rooms of my apartment, know just as much of my life as Erin knew, and would take the lead for the rest of the security staff. There would need to be security dedicated to my apartment, a handful at Marduke, and dedicated security for any other locations I frequented. As all of this was being explained to me, Erin kept checking her phone and replying to messages to coordinate the process.

“I’ve also started to put together a list of other staff for cleaning, driving, maintaining the garden, IT, and meals.” She glanced at Joel. “I tried to talk him into a job, but he’s not interested.”

“It’s not that I’m not interested,” Joel said while starting his cleanup process. “I’d have to move, and I just can’t uproot my family, and The Laramey pays me very well.”

“I understand,” Erin said and looked back at me. “If you’re good with me making the hires for everything else, I’ll move forward, but you have to do the interviews for the bodyguard position.”

“Makes sense,” I said. “Can I just reiterate how much I hate the idea of having a bodyguard, though? I’m going to have zero privacy.”

“If I may,” Vikram cut in, “You’ll still have some privacy… especially in your own home and other secure places. You’ll just have to forego some of it in more public settings. We’ve already received several death threats at your old apartment. Frankly, I’m surprised no one was scouting it out when you went by there last night. It was pretty reckless, and you really need to be careful moving forward. It’s the cost of your situation, I’m afraid.”

“I know,” I said. I’ve always enjoyed my privacy, and the thought of that being encroached upon made me wonder if the money would end up feeling like a millstone hanging around my neck. “I just don’t want some guy following me around knowing everything I get up to.”

“You make it sound perverted,” Emily said. “You afraid your bodyguard is going to catch you in the middle of an orgy or something?”

I couldn’t help glancing at Erin, who was currently sipping on her coffee to hide the smile I could still see in her eyes. I glanced back at Emily and said, "Sure, Em. I don’t want him perving on my orgies.”

Three hours later

“I’m not gonna lie. This is impressive,” I said as I looked over one of the most impressive resumes I’d ever seen. It belonged to the second interviewee for the job of being my bodyguard, and read more like Jack Reacher fiction than an actual CV.

John Cartugent's accomplishments included being a former Navy SEAL who graduated from Admiral Jonathan H. Anderson Naval Academy, performing several special operations to neutralize high-value targets, which was a five-dollar phrase to say he killed people. He retrieved high-value assets from hostile environments twice, which meant he rescued hostages, instructed a Navy SEAL program, had expertise in small unit tactics, experience with underwater demolitions, and experience with “unconventional warfare” - whatever that meant. 

His decorations included the Navy Cross, the Silver Star, and the Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal with gold star for exceptional achievement. He was in the top three percent of his class in hand-to-hand combat and the top five percent in marksmanship. This was one of the most impressive thirty-four-year-olds I had ever met, and he wasn’t even old enough to run for President. It made me wonder what the hell I had done with my life so far.

Erin sat on the couch next to me, taking notes as John and I became more acquainted with one another. He seemed a bit stiff compared to the first candidate, whose name had also been John, but was slightly better qualified, judging by the resume. I wondered if a collection of accomplishments this intense came at the cost of having a personality.

“So, what do you do for fun?” I asked, looking for any chink in his armor.

“I visit the shooting range three times a week,” John said.

When he didn’t follow up with anything else, I looked up from his resume. He simply sat there, watching me.

“And?”

“That’s it, sir.”

“You don’t have any friends that you hang out with? Guy’s poker night?”

“No sir.”

“Tap dancing lessons?”

“Closest thing to that would be martial arts. I train at my gym twice a week.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No current interest, sir.”

I took another stab, “Boyfriend?”

“No sir.”

Wow… this guy seemed like a lot of fun.

“So aside from everything on here,” I said as I dropped the resume on the arm of the couch next to me. I decided to lean into the interview trope. “What’s your greatest strength.”

“To be honest, I’m pretty boring, sir. I’m an only child and come from a small family. I suck at relationships and don’t have a lot of interest in them. I don’t have any hobbies besides training. When I’m not on duty, I like to keep up with world politics. That being the case, I am available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week as needed.”

“Gotcha,” I said. I glanced over at Erin, who was texting on her phone and giving me nothing to work with.

“Alright, John,” I said as I stood up. “I appreciate you coming in here today. My assistant will be in touch within twenty-four hours to notify you of the status of the opening.” I held out my hand. He stood and clasped it, his grip exactly the right amount of pressure to let me know he was strong, without being overbearing.

“I look forward to hearing from you, sir.”

He picked up his briefcase and looked at Erin. “Ma’am.”

Then he left without another word.

Erin was still texting.

“Well?”

Erin looked up from her phone. “Well?”

“John?”

“Oh,” she said, then looked back down at her phone. “He’s fine.”

“Fine? Have you seen this resume?”

“I did,” Erin said without looking up from her phone. “I picked him out.”

“Yet, you don’t seem terribly impressed with him.”

“No,” she said. “He’s impressive, alright. I just think he’s missing something.”

“Why can’t we just go with a firm?” I asked. “You said earlier that I would need a bunch of security. Why am I interviewing individuals?”

“Because,” Erin said as she went back to typing on her phone. “We’re looking for that one person who’s good as a personal bodyguard, but also clicks with you enough that you feel comfortable to have them around all the time. We need someone who gets to know you well enough to anticipate your needs, fulfill bodyguard duties, and be proactive without getting underfoot.” She looked up and gave me a smug smile, “Someone like me, but who knows how to shoot a gun.”

“I don’t need another you. One of you is more than enough.”

She stared at me for several seconds in complete silence, then slowly removed her glasses to give me the full force of her liquid brown eyes. She stepped toward me, her smug expression dropping into a soberer one as her eyes began to smolder. “Are you sure about that? Just imagine two of me working for you… catering to your every whim.” Closing the distance between us, she ran one hand up my chest, looking up at me through long, heavy lashes. “Can you picture it? Lying down on a bed while twin Erins kiss each other… your hands roaming all over our bodies?”

I could imagine exactly that, and some of the activities from the previous night replayed in my head, only duplicate versions of Erin instead of one. I could feel myself getting turned on, and the last thing I wanted was to interview a bunch of ex-military guys while trying to covertly adjust a hard-on.

“Who were you texting?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

Not to be dissuaded, Erin traced a black-painted fingernail along the curvature of my neck and up behind my ear. She gave me a knowing little smile and whispered, “You know, I have a sister.”

Holy. Shit.

Then she stepped back, her seductress routine immediately replaced with professional Erin who donned her glasses once more and continued as if nothing happened.

“If you’re interested in possibly cutting this process short, Vikram may have found the next candidate for you to interview. He said he knows we have several others, but this may be the winner. Want to give it a shot?”

“Oh my god, Erin!”

She looked up from her phone as if she had no idea what the problem could be. “What?”

“You can’t do that! I’m about to do another interview and now look at me!” I gestured to the obvious lump in my pants.

Erin flashed me a delighted grin and nodded her head. “Hell yeah! I did that.”

“I hope you’re happy! I’m going to be like a dog in heat for the entire interview!”

She adopted an overly innocent, schoolgirl-like expression, her brown eyes big and watery. “I’m so sorry, sir. How can I make it up to you?”

“I can think of a few ways,” I growled.

Her expression melted into another grin, “I hold you to it. After you choose a bodyguard.”

I sighed and did my best to tamp down the burning embers of my libido. “Alright... but it can’t get more impressive than John.”

“Which John?”

“Either one,” I said.

Erin shrugged, “It’s ultimately your call. I feel like we’ve done a pretty good job of narrowing things down for you, so I’m sure any of them will do, but if Vikram has found ‘the one’...” she gestured a universal sign for ‘you draw the conclusion.

“Alright, but this guy will probably mind his own business, so I’m probably going with him,” I said and pointed to the resume still sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Don’t be too hasty,” Erin said. “You made a quick decision about the first whore you interviewed. She almost got my job.”

“Helen told you about that?”

Erin shook her head in mock disgust. “I can’t believe you almost hired Barely-Sentient Barbie to be your PA.”

“She spoke five languages!”

Erin shook her head again, “Basically a blow-up doll.”

I dropped back on the couch, not in the mood to do another interview. I wanted to lock the door and sink my dick into Erin again, but if Vikram and Erin thought I should still keep going…

Nearly fifteen minutes later, the door opened, and in stepped a woman in a pair of slacks, a white button-down, and a woman’s suit jacket. She wore her straight blonde hair just past shoulders in a simple style, stood about 5’5” tall, and appeared in her early thirties with eyes a shade of dark brown similar to Erin’s. With the jacket on, it was hard to distinguish her figure, but her pants fit well enough to show a narrow waist that flared into shapely hips and what might have been a nice ass. Her chest appeared to be a little larger than Erin's… perhaps on par with Helen's.

As she walked into the room, I detected the similar training and habits that the other two interviewees had. Her eyes scanned the room as soon as she entered, likely looking for exit points, improvised weapons, or whatever else trained killers were supposed to do. Despite that, her manner was relaxed as she approached me; she held out a hand and gave me a soft smile.

“Mr. Upton? I’m Chloe Tanner. I hear you’re looking for a bodyguard and head of security.”

I stood up as she entered and grasped her hand, glancing down at her left ring finger to gauge what to call her. “Miss Tanner. A pleasure.”

“Chloe, please,” the woman responded.

“Please sit down,” I indicated a chair and waited for her to sit. Once we were both comfortable, I continued. “How did you hear about the job?”

“Henry Psalter?” Chloe responded.

Not recognizing the name, I glanced at Erin.

“Mr. Psalter is the investigator we hired to look into the incident at your old apartment. He used to work for the same security firm that Colin Gerrard hired, so I think that’s where Helen knew him from. I hired him on her recommendation,” Erin said. “Vikram asked him if he had any suggestions for a bodyguard, and he gave us Chloe’s name. To quote Vikram directly,” she glanced at her phone, “He sang her praises.”

Chloe smiled at Erin’s words, but it was an uncomfortable one. Now that she was closer, I gave her a more thorough inspection. She had an average complexion darkened by a prominent dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her nose was a little smaller than average and had a slight upturn. Combined with her age, she looked more like she belonged in a minivan carting six-year-olds to soccer than interviewing for a position as my bodyguard.

“Henry probably exaggerated,” Chloe said.

“How do you know Henry?” I asked.

Chloe hesitated. “We both served together.”

“According to Vikram, Mr. Psalter said that she saved his life,” Erin interjected.

Chloe shook her head. “I wouldn’t say that. Anyway, he got out before me, and when I left, he got me a job working at the same security firm.”

“The same firm my grandfather used?”

“Yes sir.”

Saving someone’s life was impressive, and she was incredibly sexy in a cute can-I-borrow-some-sugar-and-bang-you sort of way. But compared to John one and two, she was small… and a girl. She probably knew how to handle a gun, but there was no way she could compare to either of them in close-quarters combat.

“Okay,” I said carefully, wondering what Vikram found so interesting about this one. There was no mistaking she was good-looking, so I understood the appeal, but it wasn’t like I was hurting for pussy. I needed a bodyguard, not another woman to bang… assuming that was even in the cards. “I just interviewed a Navy Seal who has about a hundred pounds on you and can shoot a cockroach on the move. Why should I hire you?”

“A fair question,” Chloe said. She extracted a folder from her purse and left her chair to hand it to me. “That’s my resume - the parts I can show you, anyway,” she said, sitting back down.

I opened it, scanned the work history, and could immediately tell it was every bit as impressive as the last one I saw. It had accomplishments of all sorts, including several medals and rewards. It listed all kinds of training from unarmed combat to marksmanship to explosives. She knew four different languages, which automatically disqualified her if Erin had her way. She won tournaments. She fought in two wars. She had a Masters degree in International Relations and an undergrad in Psychology.

Jesus Christ. I was surrounding myself with psychotic overachievers.

“That should speak for itself. I think the thing that gives me a slight edge is my familiarity with the Gerrards. For the last two years, I was on the security team for the Gerrard family home, and personally served as a bodyguard for your grandfather on multiple occasions.”

That grabbed my attention. “You what?”

“I personally protected several Gerrards, including Colin.”

I just stared for a full ten seconds, not sure how to respond. I looked toward Erin, who nodded; the look on her face might as well have shouted, ‘Can you believe this?’

“Why were you removed from Hannon?” I asked. “Because he died?”

Erin frowned at me, “That’s not fair! He had a heart attack.”

“No,” Chloe said, “He’s right.” Her mouth tightened, and she took a deep breath before continuing, “Mr. Gerrard didn’t die of a heart attack. He was poisoned.”

Once again, she grabbed my attention. “What?”

“Colin Gerrard was poisoned. The autopsy’s findings that are being reported are false. I promise you… your grandfather didn’t die of natural causes.”

I sat back on the couch, as did Erin. She seemed just as enraptured by what she was hearing as I was.

“Tell me more,” I said.