Oh… my… God.
(I was going to let the comment about my head not being in the right place slide because the rest of it was so f**king nice.)
“Vance –”
“Shut up, Jules.”
I decided to give up telling him not to tell me to shut up and desperately looked for a different topic that was safe for morning discussions. I needed to move on, process this later perhaps in the night-time hours with the moonlight coming in the window and Vance asleep while we were test-driving another Most Favorite Sleeping Position.
Finally I blurted, “You never answered me. Do you like The Beatles?”
He stared at me a beat then said, “What?”
“The Beatles. Do you like them?”
He totally had my number. I knew it when the intensity slid away, a slow grin spread on his face and he kissed me softly again. Thankfully, he let the moonlight conversation go and I knew this was because he knew I needed him to let it go… for now.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Stevie Wonder?”
“Yeah,” he repeated.
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, that’s a load off my mind.”
He shook his head again, eyes amused, then he switched the subject. “Today, I want you checkin’ in with me regularly and if you can’t get through to me then call the surveillance room. Yeah?”
I nodded. I could do that, that didn’t sound hard.
Vance carried on. “I’ll get a panic button from the office. I’ll give it to you at Fortnum’s.”
Um.
No.
I scrunched my nose. A head crackin’ mamma jamma with a panic button? I didn’t think so.
Vance’s relaxed grin faded. “I’m not arguing about this, Jules. You either take the panic button or you got a bodyguard whether you want one or not. Your choice. You’re protected one way or the other until we pick up Shard, Jermaine and Clarence and convince them to change their minds.”
Hmm.
Macho-speak.
My eyes narrowed.
“Chose, Jules.”
“Is there a door number three?” I asked.
“Yeah, they can pick you up, gang rape you repeatedly while alternately beatin’ the shit out of you until you wished you were dead. Then I’d have to hunt them down and kill them and, after that, I’d spend the rest of my life in prison. That’s door number three.”
Um.
Yikes.
“I choose the panic button,” I said immediately.
His body relaxed, he kissed my forehead again and said, “Wise choice.”