For the first couple of days it had been relaxing. I could feel tension melt away. But now it was boring. Friday. Eight more days.I listened to her on her cell phone talking to her father. It was hard not to. Despite the closed bedroom door, her vociferous protestations came through loud and clear. I happened to agree with her - she should get a different agent to protect her. But apparently General George Hollister disagreed. It was her yell, “I’ll never talk to you again, Dad!” that suggested her father was actually the man of steel he was reputed to be.Callie was proving to be a little bird with a spine; opinionated, forceful, headstrong, and determined to get her own way. Under other conditions I’d appreciate her, but as a protectee, those traits are the worst.Deciding I didn’t want to face her after that conversation, I went and took a shower.Fifteen minutes later, clean, shaved, with a towel wrapped around my waist, I walked into my small bedroom to find Callie studying the. Her heart raced as she glimpsed a silhouette of a man seated on a folded chair in front of the light. "Cal?" she gasped as her heart raced. The big man leaned back in his chair, the lamp casting light on his face. Calvin sat easily in his chair, a subtle smile on his face.Jamie was relieved that it was him but shifted uneasily on her spot, her bare legs shining. She cleared her throat and said, "Cal, what..."She saw him shake his head and raise a finger to his lips. Jamie froze. She felt nervous and exposed; her gut twisted and ached.Calvin watched the woman stand quietly before him. Her dark auburn hair shone against the light. Even from across the room, he saw the anxious look on her face."Anytime you're ready, Jamie," he said in his deep baritone voice.She tilted her head slightly, unsure of what he meant. He breathed deeply, "Shake out your hair."She rolled her eyes. "Calvin..."The man crossed his arms. Jamie knew if she asked him to do so, he would leave. If she asked him. Her.
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