just stepped into his room when his phone rang. There was only one person he knew who would call him at such an early hour, and he didn’t bother looking at the display before swiping to answer.
“Good morning, Ana,” he said, tucking the phone between his face and shoulder.
“Good morning, little brother,” she replied.
He snorted at the affectionate and not altogether accurate title she used for him. At almost six-foot-five and 275 pounds, Elliot was a giant compared to the slight, five-foot woman. And the fact that he was also nearly four years older than her just added to the irony. It was a little joke she’d adopted after the first few weeks in the foster home they’d shared. Though they hadn’t continued to live with one another, they had never lost contact, and she’d never dropped the title.
“You’re calling earlier than usual,” he noted.
“Probably because I didn’t want to catch you on your daily run. I beat you by about...what, ten minutes?”
Elliot glanced at the pile of clean clothes folded neatly on the chair next to his bed. “Five.”
“And you’re no fun when you’re out for your jog.”
“Hey, I talk to you.”
“Right, until you reach that weird state where you just zone out, and I have to yell at you to get your attention again.”
Elliot chuckled, snatching the pair of running shorts off the top of the pile. “My deepest apologies.”
“Don’t lie to me. You’re not sorry at all.”
“Not in the slightest.”
Ana snorted. “Anyway. You have that interview today, don’t you?”
“I do indeed. Apparently, some rich shit wants me specifically.”
“Is this a real contract, or like that last guy who wanted you to fuck him like there was no tomorrow?”
Elliot frowned at the reminder. “I looked him up this time, he’s legit.”
“Yeah, so was the last one. Right up until he started talking ‘fees’ and ‘private protection times’ or whatever the hell it was.”
Elliot didn’t need reminding. Working as an independent contractor was tricky enough, depending on the field. When what he did amounted to ‘bodyguard’, no matter how he might spruce it up with fancy words, it could get even trickier. His last potential client, a one Horace Sanders, had apparently skimmed over every part of Elliot’s listed qualifications and skills and seen only a personal escort service. While Elliot wasn’t opposed to a roll in the hay with someone when he needed to let off steam, he wasn’t in the business of whoring himself out literally.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Elliot muttered.
“I mean, he was offering three times your going rate,” Ana continued, mischief in her voice.
“He wanted me to spank him and make him call me daddy,” Elliot said, deadpan.
Ana cackled. “And from a guy who was old enough to be your dad.”
“Again, don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, but I do.”
“Because you’re evil.”
“Oh, Elliot, when will you learn? I’m not evil, but I do like a bit of chaos,” Ana told him.
“This from a woman in law school.”
“When you live a big part of your life upholding order and structure, some part of you will always want to cause a little chaos, and bask in the anarchy.”
Elliot looked around his bedroom, eyebrow raised. The only thing in his room that wasn’t put away was the pile of folded clothes on his chair. Yet even that would be stowed away in his closet before he left for his morning jog. He was a creature of habit, and he lived by schedules and routines. When you arranged your life down to the most minute detail, you kept control of what happened to you. Anything outside your control was something you had to accept, but everything within had to be structured and maintained.
“As someone who’s lived most of their adult life in order, I don’t agree,” Elliot told her.
“Yes, well, I’ve already had to tell you you’re a freak of nature,” Ana said.
“Oh, thanks so much, Ana. You really know how to make someone feel special and loved.”
“It’s a gift.”
Even just hearing her voice, he could picture the playful smile on her face. They had met almost two decades before when he’d been a scrawny teenager, yet to reach his full height, and she an impish preteen. Even as a child, he’d been serious, prone to keeping his toys organized and his thoughts in line. Ana was quick and clever, ready with a joke or quip, and always willing to stir things up just for a bit of fun. Yet it was her warm heart and