Mr. Prime Minister

Chapter 16

When I finished my burger, Tyler was turning the car into a small block of flats. He opened a tall white garage, and we were in, safe. We rode the elevator up to the second and top floor of the building, and he then opened his flat for me. He was polite and chivalrous as to gesture for me to enter ahead.

"Wow." I mumbled, taking my coat and handbag "This is... different."

"I apologize in advance for the mess. It's a boys' house" He muttered, grabbing a pair of old sneakers and setting them straight next to the other pairs of shoes in the lobby.

"Oh. You live with another bodyguard? Or... huh... a partner?" I blushed.

Maybe he was gay. Maybe he had a husband or a boyfriend at home and I was intruding!

"Partner?" He frowned; then his brows went up his forehead and his thin lips pressed together so he wouldn't laugh in my face "No, Miss Summers. My son."

"Oh!" I tossed again "You have a son?! Come to think of it, I don't even know your last name" I winced with embarrassment.

"Baker. My last name's Baker. And my son's name is Oscar. He's a college student. He's at a friend's house, right now" He said, guiding me through the hallway into the living room.

"When I said 'different', I didn't mean messy, or bad. I really mean it was different. I like it." I smiled, gesturing for the eclectic decoration "Did you actually visit all these places?"

He joined me by the big world map plastered on the living room wall. There were green pins and red pins around the countries.

"Green ones we did. Red ones we hope to visit, someday." Tyler shrugged, taking his own coat off "Can I get you some coffee? Tea?"

"Oh, coffee, please. Three cubes of sugar." Once he made a nauseous face, I blushed "I like it really sweet."

"Painfully sweet, if you ask me." He winced and I chuckled "Alright, coffee. You can turn the telly on, if you'd like. The loo is the first door on the left, outside the hall. If you feel like lying down-"

"Tyler." I interrupted "I'm fine. I'm just a bit rattled, that's all. And I'll help you with the coffee."

I followed him outside the living room into the kitchen, all the while memorizing the wonderful decoration at Tyler's. I never would've thought such a stern and composed man would have bowls from India, carpets from Turkey and big photos from South Africa in his living room. There were dozens of family pictures around the furniture, and I could identify his parents and his son in most of them. The kid looked a lot like him, tall and attractive, the same side smile and tender look.

There was a good, family style, vibe coming from the old taupe curtains and the brown leather sofa. There were three bookcases, flanking two white windows, and the books pretty much revolved around trips, or autobiographies. There were some criminal novels, but not much more.

"Just take a seat, Miss Summers." He gestured to the table standing in front of a window "I'll take care of coffee."

"Thanks. And you can call me Alice, Tyler."

He served us some coffee and thankfully sweetened mine to a painful stance – according to his words. I eyed my mug and smiled.

"Huh... My son." He muttered, clearing his throat "He has a twisted sense of humour."

The mug I got proudly said 'Sexiest Dad in the World'.

"Well, he's not so bad himself. Cute kid." I gestured back into the living room "How old is he?"

"Soon to be twenty one." He beamed "The reason for my grey hairs and wrinkles. And pride."

"You don't have grey hair or wrinkles." I assured him with a chuckle; he actually looked good for... "How old are you, anyway?"