The Bodyguard 5sos

Chapter Five.

'Max Lander!' I exclaim. 

'Alexis, long time, no parley. Not changed I see, still impressing the locals.' 

Max Lander. Smooth-talking, chiselled jawed, perma-tanned, ivory toothed, Max Lander. He still hadn't started to dye his long white hair. It's his trademark, all over California he is known as the Silver Fox; cunning old dog and Agent to the stars. How did I know all this? Because I'd met Max before.  

'Guys, if you don't mind, I'll catch you later,' I wave to Dan and Joe. 'How's Alice, Max?' 

'Good, she's really good. My little girl's two years older and two years wiser.' Max looks troubled. 'Alexis she didn't come and see you to thank you because she was so distressed by the kidnaping. You got my flowers and her note didn't you? You know I recommended the FBI give you a commendation?' 

'They invalided me out Max with a small pension. We got your daughter out but I got shot by another Agent so no one was going to have any public award ceremonies that might bring that up.' We are walking along the beach back toward the house. 'Don't worry Max, the pension's worth more to me than a bit of paper and a stupid commendation.' 

'You ended up down here, not so bad then? The good life?' Max looks good for an older guy, wide muscular tanned figure, glistening Rolex watch and startlingly loud Hawaiian shirt and shorts with peacock and parrots on. Every inch of his 6 foot 4inches, the successful businessman. 

'Sort of Max. Moneys always a little tight but I get by.' 

We reach the house. Max looks up at the three floors of the art deco building, turns to take in the sea views and does a quick appraisal. 'Not that tight apparently.' 

I flip the padlock off the lock and pull back the roller door. 'I've had an interior designer in, you'll be impressed.' 

He looks inside, the edges of his eyes crease up as he makes a new assessment. 'They've done a nice job with that stove. What's it called, that look?' 

'Rusted,' I say, 'and the sofa's, lived in. You know, those tears cost extra.' 

'Like the jeans?' 

'Like the jeans.' I repeat. 

'Never did figure that one out.'  

Max is sitting on my sofa sipping my coffee and we are watching long legged girls skate by and toned musclebound guys play volley ball down on the sand. He has been silent for a long time which is not like him. 'Want to earn some extra money?' 

'Doing what?' I lean forward and cradle the chipped cup in my fingers. 

'Personal protection. A client of mine, an easy job, just a couple of weeks till I can recruit a permanent. Just stand round and look good. You can do that can't you?' He laughs out loud like he's made a great joke. 'Course you can.'  

'Who?' 

'You'll see. Are you up for it? If you are you can start now -we could go up to his house, it's not far from here. Two thousand bucks a week. How does that sound.' 

It sounded good. No, in fact, it sounded great. 'Two five,' I say, 'until you find someone else.' 

'Good, I knew you'd do it.' Max extends his hand. 'I was prepared to go to three so I think I got you for a steal.' Max never did like coming second. 'Two, five then.' 

'Done.' I said grabbing his hand, 'I'll drive.'