Die for You

Chapter 16

The room I had been assigned was large and sumptuous. It has a masculine decor, with dark furniture and minimal decoration. There is a leather armchair in one corner, a large desk with a computer in another, and a bookshelf filled with action novels and comic books.

"Richie's room," Miss Armstrong had told me when she showed me in, it was about as far apart from her flat in St John's Wood.

After unpacking my things, I'd headed to the bathroom to find a massive roll top bath, already filled with steaming hot water. About thirty seconds later, my clothes were folded on the bed and I'd slipped into the water, my skin turning a nice shade of boiled lobster red.

Even for a self-proclaimed hard-ass like me, a bath is a fucking fabulous experience; especially one where you can just lay back and enjoy it. The aches and strains of the last few days easing away as, for the first time since I'd left this house days ago, I was able to properly switch off.

Miss Armstrong was safe, the house had its own security team and I wasn't needed for a while. It felt good to finally turn my brain off and allow the warm water to soothe away my cares...

...I was woken from my doze by a suspicious sound, like a door opening and closing. I listened carefully but it was nothing. The bag behind the door I had placed hadn't fallen. So, I assumed it was from another room.

It was only after I've got properly cleaned up that I realized my mistake. Someone had been in my room, and had left me a present.

Hanging from a hook on the back of the adjoining room's door was a long midnight blue dress in a plastic carrier; on it was a note.

"Thought you might change your mind and decide to get dressed up...my treat. Becky x"

Seriously, the girl never gives up. I did like the dress though. She obviously had good taste. It was a ridiculously impractical dress though, especially for me. I can't carry off the whole 'flowing gown' deal, and if I wore that to the party, I'd get more than a few stares, I'm sure.

Not because I wouldn't look good in it, you know, but because it's almost totally backless and you need unblemished skin to carry that off; and my back is anything but unblemished, the tattooist's needle forever removing the white flesh.

In fact, I'm sure the artwork on my back would horrify some of the people at this party and I would hate to embarrass the hosts.

Rubbing my freshly conditioned hair in the thick bath towel, I turned back to my business wear and picked out the clothes for the evening. It was a smart trouser suit, classy but not over the top. With a smart and comfortable white blouse, it would be perfect for this evening, overseeing security and making sure Miss Armstrong was safe from everything and everyone.

I took another glance in the mirror to make sure the security earpiece was discreetly hidden before straightening my jacket and heading out into the house.

It was getting late as I completed my rounds of the house. Finally happy, I wandered back into the hallway to be faced with a grinning James Porter.

"Freen, there you are. Where the hell have you been?" he asked, practically bouncing on the spot.

"Security checks, boss, making sure everyone's ready. I thought you were getting spruced up for the party," I said looking at the business clothes he'd been wearing all day.

"Going up to get dressed now, Blondie. I just got out of my meeting with Rob and you are now a consultant for the official Armstrong Industries security contractor. We just signed the contract and we, my girl, are in for twelve months guaranteed work with the option for a further two years at the end of the twelve months if both parties are happy."