"But-What? You can't-" After several false starts, she took a deep breath to calm herself and tried again. "Why?"
Her boss gestured to a chair, and Bailey forced her leaden legs to carry her the few feet and lowered herself into it stiffly.
"You've become a news item. Not just any news item, but people think you have an intimate relationship with Mr. Parker. Most of our clients want their security to be invisible, to fade into the background. You can't do that right now. I can't use you like this," he explained.
"But, sir, I don't have a relationship with Parker. You know that. I was only doing my job." Her voice began to sound desperate, and she held her breath for a moment to try to control the shaking of her insides.
"I know, Bailey. I'm sorry."
"There's nothing else you can put me on? Non-celebrities, museums, foreigners, anything?"
Flannigan fiddled with his coffee cup, and Bailey knew she was not going to like whatever he said next. Finally, he looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "The contract with Parker stipulated you were undercover, as both you and he insisted. I can't put the rumors of you two as a couple to rest by making a statement to the press because of the non-disclosure agreement in that contract, yet everyone knows you are a security guard because of the incident at the movie premiere." He paused again, not wanting to go on.
"So?" she asked.
"Several clients have called me and specifically requested you not be part of their detail because of it."
Bailey shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand."
Flannigan sighed. "It looks unprofessional, Bailey," he said in a low tone. "It looks to others like you don't know the boundaries required for a job like this. They don't want to take the chance on you."
A lump formed in Bailey's throat, eliminating anything she might have said in response. She swallowed, but it only grew bigger, forcing its way up until her eyes burned with unshed tears. She blinked rapidly, focusing on a mole on Flannigan's hand to force them away. Everything she'd worked for, everything she'd built over the last two years started melting away like Frosty the Snowman in summer. No one wanted her. She could no longer do her job.
Leaning over, Flannigan put a hand on her shoulder, offering her what little comfort he could. "I'm sure this will all blow over. It's just a temporary leave. Take a vacation, try to relax. I'll call you back as soon as I can."
Nodding, Bailey rose on stiff legs. Vacation? No. There was no way she could relax with her life in shambles as it was. However, she wasn't going to argue with her boss. He'd taken a chance on her once; she couldn't ask him to do it again. No, she'd have to fix this herself, although she had no idea how.
*
Bay lay on her couch in a set of sweats and an old T-shirt. The only light in the room came from the flickering pictures of the TV. She pressed the channel button on the remote, and the picture changed. After a few minutes, she changed the channel again. Nothing could hold her interest for long.
She'd lost track of time, lying here. She didn't even remember what day it was. She was spiraling into depression and she knew it. She'd done the same after she'd been shot in Afghanistan. Although she was physically fine, her heart and her head kept insisting her life was over. There was nothing to live for. She had no one who cared. Not even Mark's attempts to get her into bed had tempted her out of her darkness.
Her cell phone rang, and she reached for it without taking her eyes from the images crawling across her TV. "Hello?" Her voice was cracked and monotone, but she no longer cared. She didn't care what people thought of her.
"Bay, where are you? I thought we were meeting for dinner," the high voice of her sister sounded through the phone.
"Oh, is that today?" she asked, not really interested and trying to remember what day she'd said she'd meet Lexie.
"Yes, it's today. Don't tell me you forgot." Before Bailey could open her mouth to respond, Lex continued. "Oh, don't tell me-you've been spending so much time with Everett Parker that you forgot about little ole me!" She squealed, literally squealed, and Bailey pulled the phone away from her ear.
"You've got it all wrong."
"Aw, did he dump you already, sweetheart? Well, you know these things never last. It's probably best."
"Lexie-" Her phone beeped with another call, and she glanced down at the screen to see Everett's name. Lexie had interrupted her again, but she had no idea what her sister had been saying, and she really didn't want to listen anymore. As much as she didn't want to talk to Everett either, this seemed as good an excuse as any to get rid of her. "Lexie, I've got another call. I've got to go."
Before Lexie could reply, Bailey disconnected and answered Everett's call.
"I wanted to give you an update on those pictures," Everett said.
"Oh." Bay leaned back further into the couch. Somehow, she'd gotten her hopes up at seeing his name. Why in the world would she think he'd been calling just to talk to her? And why the hell would she get excited about the prospect? She shook her head at herself. You're only responding to him because he's being nice to you, she told herself. You don't feel anything at all for him. Liar! Her heart shouted. She deliberately chose to ignore that voice.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, picking up on the despondency in her voice.
"Yeah, fine," she said with too much enthusiasm. "What about the pictures?"
"Unfortunately, we haven't had much luck tracking down who they came from yet. I still have people working on it. We'll find out eventually, I'm sure. Nothing stays hidden for long these days."
Despair, deeper than the depression she had been feeling, seeped into her very bones. Nothing was going right. She would never get her life back.
"Bailey, you still there?"
"Uh, yeah, I'm here."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
His question sounded sincere, and suddenly Bailey had the unstoppable urge to spill everything out to this man. It didn't matter that he probably wouldn't understand anything she felt, seeing as he was rich and had friends and family who cared. Nevertheless, he was the only one she could talk to, the only one who'd ever really listened to her, and the only one who knew the truth about everything.
"No, I'm not okay!" Sobs clawed at her throat, and tears that had been absent for days now flowed freely down her face.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" His voice was warm and tender, and Bay clutched the phone hard against her ear to keep her hand from shaking.
"I don't have a job, I can't tell anyone the truth about anything, I don't even know how long I'll be able to keep this crappy apartment with no money."
"Did Flannigan fire you?" Everett asked indignantly.
Bailey sniffed, choking back the rest of her sobs. "No, I'm just on leave. But no one wants to work with me anymore." She stopped suddenly. She couldn't tell him the rest. She couldn't tell him why.
Sure enough though, he asked it anyway. "Why wouldn't anyone want to work with you? I know you're good at your job. What's the problem?"
"It's nothing," Bay deflected. "I'm just going to have to find something else I can do." She sighed in defeat. "I just can't see myself doing anything else though."
"Talk to me, Bay. Tell me what's going on. Is it because of me? Are people harassing you?"
His voice sounded so genuine that all Bailey wanted to do was pour out all her trouble to him. Still, she hesitated. In spite of spending a week in close quarters with him, did she really know him enough to confide in him? Sure, all her problems were because of him, but it wasn't really his fault. Was it?
"Bay?" he questioned again at her silence.
"No one wants to work with me because they think I'm unprofessional," she said in a soft voice.
"What the hell! How are you not professional? You saved my life, for God's sake."
"Everett, they think my dating you is unprofessional," she explained.
There was silence on the other end of the line, and Bailey pulled the phone away from her ear to make sure she was still connected.
"I see," he finally said. "And now no other security firm will hire you either, is that right?"
"Pretty much." Bailey pulled at a loose thread on her sweats. "I'm low on money," she finally admitted. "I have to find something soon. I can't find the motivation to look for anything else though. I just feel … " she searched for the right word " … lost."