Christian paced, restlessly, outside Bobby’s office. He had a bad feeling; he was never called in to see his boss. His assignments were always sent to him through text, letting him know where to be and when.
Working as the head of Bobby’s private security, therefore becoming his personal bodyguard, was the best job he’d ever had. He seriously hoped he hadn’t done anything to jeopardise it, in the past few weeks.
The secretary looked up from her desk and smiled, gesturing to the door, to let him know he could go in. He wasn’t altogether sure he wanted to, but he didn’t have much choice.
Taking a deep breath and buttoning his suit jacket, in the middle, he headed for the door and walked inside.
“I have a new assignment for you.” Bobby began, pacing the carpet behind his desk. “My wife and I are going away for a much needed holiday, for six months. We need you to stay behind and take care of Duncan.” He explained, with a smile.
“I’m sorry?” Christian asked, taking a seat in front of Bobby’s desk.
He was stunned he wanted him to be a babysitter. That wasn’t in his job description. Getting shot, getting the crap kicked out of him, facing off stalkers and doing crazy shit that was likely to get him killed; yeah, fine. That was in his job description, but not keeping tabs on a no-good layabout like Duncan.
His job included anything to do with security or safety. He was ready to put himself between a target and a bullet, but he wasn’t meant to be wandering around holding Duncan’s hand and helping him cross the street.
“He’s just turned nineteen and we’ve agreed that, if he stays at home and behaves himself for these six months, we’ll let him move to Miami, to move into an apartment with his friends. He wants to be a model, of all things.” Bobby said, rolling his eyes in disapproval. “But I’ll admit, I don’t trust him. I’ve had updates from the tech department; he’s talking about having the house for six months and having wild parties. Tory thinks he might already be doing drugs; nothing serious, just a joint so far.” He explained, looking exasperated, as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t want him getting caught up in that world or getting in over his head. I know what these dealers can be like. One wrong move and he’ll be in so much trouble he can’t find his way back out.” He admitted, heavily.
Christian nodded, in acceptance. That much was true; there were a lot of drug dealers sniffing around Duncan on a daily basis, thanks to the money that he flaunted everywhere. It would only take one mistake or one friend, drunk or looking for a quick high, to get him caught up in something he couldn’t control.
“But he won’t accept a bodyguard either.” Bobby reminded him, with a sigh. “Tory’s been doing that job, with difficulty. Every time he tracks Duncan anywhere, he spots him and he’s come to me demanding to know if I’ve been having him followed. I’ve tried to keep Tory’s job, as his bodyguard, a secret until now, but I’m afraid he’s onto me.” He complained, shaking his head. “I will double your usual fee for outside work, if you accept this task. I need you to be on him, twenty-four seven. But there’s a catch,” he said, looking up at him.
“Something other than having to babysit while you’re gone?” Christian asked, in frustration. He knew that Duncan didn’t know him from Adam, because he’d never taken an interest in his father’s life. Christian only guarded him at work, even being his driver the majority of the time. He drove him everywhere, but Duncan never looked at the drivers and they were never in the main house at the same time.
“I’m afraid so.” Bobby smiled at him, before taking his seat. “If you’re going to go undercover in Duncan’s life, then you have to know that he’s gay.” He continued.
Christian stared at him, unsurprised by that fact. Just about everyone in the magazine reading world knew that Duncan was gay. He waited, to hear what was really going on, because he wasn’t an idiot.
Duncan was splashed over the front page of every tabloid magazine and newspaper in the country. Normally, he was hanging off some guy’s arm, making out with a stranger or living it up in a nightclub. Thanks to Duncan, his popularity and his rare gift of being a playboy who donated to numerous charities, there had been an upsurge in LGBT acceptance across the country.
Anyone who didn’t know that Duncan was gay had been living under a rock.
“Chris, I’m asking you to become my son’s boyfriend, for the duration of our holiday.” Bobby revealed, taking his seat, while shocking him down to his roots.
“Whoa!” Christian got up from his seat, starting to pace, in shock. “No way. I’m not gay.” He argued, refusing to become Duncan’s new lapdog, just because the little shit couldn’t behave himself.
“I know. But I’m going to pay you generously to change that.” Bobby disagreed, far too calmly for his liking. “I’m going to ask you to approach and start dating him, before we leave. It will be up to you to carry on the relationship, to make it convincing and worth his while.” He explained.