Page 30 of The Bodyguard's Fall

“Is he still stalking you?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“The last time I moved, it wasn’t because of the hike in rent.”

She let out a sound somewhere between irritation and disbelief.

“Why didn’t you tell me how bad it’s been?”

“To be fair, I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not supposed to say unless you absolutely need it on file.”

She sighed. “We have some tax documents that need to go out, but I’ll try to hold off HR as long as I can–but you know how Taylor gets.”

I didn’t know Taylor, but according to the occasional emails, she seemed very Type-A efficient in her job.

“My cop brother is predicting they should be able to catch him within the week, so hopefully I’ll be back, and nobody will be the wiser.”

There was a pause on the line, and I stood and shut and locked the window. All this talk about Leroy had made the open window feel irresponsible after all the Walkers were doing for me.

“I’m so sorry this has happened to you,” she finally spoke, her voice soft, a tone I wasn’t used to hearing from my brusque, proving-herself-in-a-man’s-world boss.

“You and me both.”

She cleared her throat. “About your screenplay…are you still going to be able to⁠—”

“Yes,” I broke in before she said the unthinkable. “I’ve got some great ideas for it⁠—”

“Ideas?”

I made a face, knowing exactly where I’d made my mistake.

“It’s due in six weeks,” Elaine said, her voice moving faster now, higher pitched. “Six. Weeks. If you want it to have any chance at filming this spring. I need you to be further along than just ideas.” Her voice changed to pure panic. “Please tell me you’re further along. With all the changes…you are one of our top writers, and we both have a lot riding on this.”

“I will be.”

“Liv—”

“I’ll get it done. I am now living in a postcard for romantic…things. I’ve been inundated with ideas. It won’t be a problem.” That was a lie, but I was on a roll, and it sounded like something a normal romance-loving person would say. “I’ll make the deadline.”

There was only silence on her end, while I bit my nails on mine.

Finally, she sighed. “Well, I’m so happy to hear that you’re living in a postcard for romantic things. The poet in you is really coming out, wherever you are.”

“I’ve had a personal setback, but I’m back on track, and I’ll be done in plenty of time.”

Another long, calculated pause.

“Okay. If you don’t get this manuscript to me on time, I’ll be forced to demote you back to an assistant writer. There are too many others in the department who would love this opportunity to have you waste it.”

Jeez. She was playing hardball.

“I understand.”