“It was, coming from someone with the rhetorical prowess of a nursery schooler. Nice job you got there. Cool friends, too.”
NeNe and Tara weren’t really my friends, but I didn’t want to wash my hands of them just because this man was the most condescending creature on planet Earth.
“My friends aren’t idiots. They’re just…” I tried to think of a flattering way to describe Tara and Nectarine.
“Morons?” Ransom suggested unhelpfully.
“Sheltered.”
“From what? Libraries?” he spat out. “Your friends are a reflection of who you are. And right now it’s looking pretty damn shallow, Brat. You’re aiming too low.”
“We conduct business together. That doesn’t make us soulmates,” I said shortly.
“Those girls couldn’t even spell the wordbusinessif they put both their heads together.” He weaved through the condensed Los Angeles traffic. It was so hot the palm trees looked like they were trying to hunch down to avoid the sun.
“I’ve never met someone more judgmental than you!” I flung my arms in the air.
“Try leaving L.A. The world is full of people who actually appreciate substance.”
No point in going back and forth with this guy. We spent the rest of the drive in tense silence. I didn’t dare imagine what Tara and NeNe must have been saying behind my back right now. The scene with Ransom was beyond humiliating. I couldn’t afford to be seen bickering with him in public. He was going to ruin what little respect I’d gained for myself in Tinseltown.
But caving to his tyrannical ways was not an option, either. I had to get rid of him, fast.
When we got back to the house, Ransom informed me he was going out to run errands. He did so in his signature, obnoxious fashion. Flinging open my bedroom door without knocking, and giving me his wouldn’t-burn-you-with-my-last-match expression.
Despite his crudeness, I was ecstatic. Finally, I was going to have some alone time to execute my get-rid-of-Ransom plan.
“I’ll try not to miss you too much.” I jumped up from my bed, about to slam the door in his face. I was on my phone, calling people he’d canceled on that week—party promoters, PR managers, and even Keller—and apologizing for the last-minute bailout.
“Max’ll keep you company, so don’t get any ideas.” Ransom scowled.
Yes. Of course. Max. If only I had the faintest idea who the man was.
“Remind me about Max?” I twirled a lock of my burgundy hair around my finger.
“Your second close protection officer.”
“Oh, right.” I laughed airily. “Is he all sunshine like you?”
He walked away, done with the conversation. Ten minutes later, I heard the front door open. Ransom was talking to this Max guy, who arrived at four in the afternoon sharp. I loitered in my room, listening closely to their conversation in hopes to gain some intel on what was going on. It felt like my house wasn’t mine anymore, with all these strangers coming and going.
When Ransom left, I tried desperately to call my parents. They didn’t answer. When I called their secretaries, I got the same runaround—they were too busy, unable to deal with me right now.
Dejected, I dragged my feet downstairs to introduce myself to Max. No point in making two enemies under this roof.
When I got to my living room, I found a lean, jarringly young-looking man sitting on my couch, flipping through a thick fantasy book. Boyish and unassuming, Max looked like your best friend’s older brother in a ’90s chick flick. He didn’t look threatening like his boss. Better yet—he didn’t stir in me the same discomfort most men caused.
“Oh. Hi.” He stood up awkwardly as soon as I came into view. He put down the book on the couch, wiping his hands over his pants. He offered me his hand. I decided, against my usual judgment, to take it.
My shoulders loosened some. He didn’t look like a bodyguard at all. Not that Ransom did. Ransom looked like a stunning, wealthy heir who found it unbearable to share a planet with average folks.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you upstairs,” Max explained.
Now,that’sthe kind of bodyguard I was down with.
“Thanks, I was just working.” The lie rolled smoothly over my tongue. “I’m Hallie.”
“Max.”