Call Roger

One

"Come on Duke, the old lady will be up soon."

He was talking to the almost one year old pup sniffing the ground at his feet, large paws indicating he wouldn't be a small dog for much longer.

Old Lady.

It was what he heard the guy before him call her. Not his boss, the woman he worked for, but Molly, her other German Shepard mix who was getting too old now to keep up with the quick and spry Duke on their morning walks.

His boss, new boss in fact, was no old lady to say the least, though the news insisted on constantly classifying her that way with its thinly veiled language aimed at securing clicks and reads.

But Claire Hart seemed by all accounts, not so much ageless, as incapable of ever looking, or acting, weathered by age. He couldn't remember exactly how old she actually was. 48, 49? Hardly knocking on heaven's door, but in her industry, practically a death sentence for an actress.

That was his job now, looking after the rich and famous, keeping them safe and protected from a ravenous public. He didn't like the title "bodyguard" since he felt like it went beyond guarding just their person. At least it did now that he was working for Miss Hart. He'd only been in the job a few years in fact, something he happened to fall into when he moved to the city 4 years ago as a burly, nearing middle-aged ex-martial arts specialist and body builder. After working as a personal trainer his first few months, he had made the right connections and got himself into something a bit more lucrative, mostly acting as a security escort at big events for young prissy actors who were growing in popularity.

He had never been a personal bodyguard until getting recommended to Claire Hart's team by her ex-bodyguard, Owen, who had been with her for years but felt it was his time to retire.

Whatever reservations he had had about the work or taking the job quickly evaporated after just a few days working for Claire. She was, by all accounts, an A-list star, one of the more famous success stories to come out of Hollywood. After receiving her big break on a famous show when she was younger, she had continued to work her way up the Hollywood ranks in big blockbusters and critically acclaimed films, winning countless awards, trying her hand at producing and directing and more recently a beauty brand.

He hadn't known any of that before coming to work for her. Just the highly recognizable name and vague recollections of her work. And of course, that she was a very famous actress and as his agency kept stressing to him, a high-level, high-profile client.

The job description had sounded more like babysitting to him than what he was used to doing. Mostly accompanying Miss Hart on her daily outings and activities, carrying her bags, running errands and helping out wherever else, which now included walking the dogs in the mornings. She hadn't been filming or promoting anything when he began. And he was genuinely surprised that for such a big star, she mostly spent her time at home, locked away on the phone in a large upstairs office for most of the day and rarely ever out in the evenings. In fact, she was a fairly quiet, scarce presence those first few weeks. He saw more of the staff than he ever did of her. But when she was around, he found it hard not to like her. She was a genuinely beautiful woman, natural, not over processed at all, who took care of herself almost impeccably but made it look like she had put in no effort. But aside from being easy on the eyes, she had a warm personality, quickly moving from graceful professionalism with him to casual friendliness. She was more down to earth and easygoing than any other celebrity he had met or worked with, clearly unaffected by her unnatural level of fame or simply mature enough now to handle it. He liked her; it was easy to. She was a good lady straight through. Kind. Generous and warm and loving with the people in her life and even the strangers she met wherever she went.