Keeping Guard by Christy Barritt

them.”
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    Nate got back to his apartment exhausted yet revitalized. He and Kylie had made a decent team and they’d somehow survived the frantic day. It was both a blessing and a curse that business had been slow. They probably wouldn’t have been able to handle many more customers, though it would have been nice for the restaurant’s bottom line.
    Out of curiosity, he plopped down at his computer desk and typed “Kylie’s Kitchen” into his search engine. Pages of results came up. He clicked on the official site for the show.A moment later, Kylie’s glowing face filled the screen. He examined her photo. Her pert nose, big eyes, tiny chin. Her long, dark hair flowing halfway down her back. Her smooth skin and easy smile. No doubt she was easy on the eyes. That didn’t always translate into being a good TV personality, however.
    He clicked on a link to one of her show’s episodes.
    A cheery song introduced the show before the camera zoomed in on a bright, clean kitchen, equipped with all the modern necessities and perfect lighting. Kylie stood behind an enlarged kitchen island with a variety of fruits and vegetables in front of her, along with a chopping board and butcher knife. Her warm smile greeted viewers and invited them into her haven.
    Nate leaned back in his chair as she began sharing a simple recipe for chicken cordon bleu with garlic mashed potatoes. She had a way of engaging her audience by sharing stories about growing up and restaurants she’d visited that inspired her and local markets where she’d found a treasure of fresh foods. By the end of the show, she nearly had Nate convinced.
    If only Nate shared her passion for food.
    He glanced at the wall where he’d hung up a picture of himself shaking hands with the President of the United States when he’d been awarded a Medal of Honor. He’d saved somewhere around a dozen passengers on a tour boat that almost sank off the coast of North Carolina and he’d nearly lost his own life in the process.
    The boat should have never been out with the storm approaching. But his job hadn’t been to judge, but to help. At thirty-eight-years old, as a decorated master chief petty officer, he’d been given the choice to advance or to retire. Against his better judgment, he’d chosen early retirement so he could honor his father’s dying wish to keep the restaurant going. If it wasn’t for the pension he received each month, he would have had to close down months ago.
    A quiet knock sounded at his door. Since the outside doors were locked, the only person it could be at this hour was Kylie, and Nate had assumed she would have fallen right to sleep after working so hard today. He yanked the door open, concerned that something might be wrong.
    Kylie stood on the other side, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d been crying. Her shoulders appeared hunched, her breaths labored.
    â€œKylie,” he mumbled. “Come in. Please.”
    As she shuffled inside, Nate’s gut lurched. He took her arm and led her across the room to the couch. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee?”
    She sank into the couch and brought her hands up under her chin. “No, thanks. I’m sorry to bother you.”
    He lowered himself into a chair across from her. “You’re not bothering me.”
    She wiped her eyes with a tissue that had been balled in her hand. “My brother just called. They’ve canceled the sting. They don’t know when they’ll be able to do it now. The cop who was supposed to double for me took a spill while chasing a suspect during a robbery. She fractured her wrists, which will make it hard for her to chop up food.”
    â€œWhen do they think this cop will be able to do the demonstration still, even if it’s rescheduled?”
    Kylie shrugged. “It depends on how long it takes her to recover. The longer we wait, the more likely my stalker