The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones by Susan Mallery Page B

understand. He liked being away from civilization, pitting his skills against the wilds of nature. But this suburban ritual made no sense to him. The grills were gas, for God’s sake, and the meat had already been partially cooked in an oven.
    He took another swig of beer, then shrugged. Everyone else was having a good time. He didn’t have to understand what they saw in it. In his business, he was used to watching other people do odd things. What made him nervous this time was that everyone knew who he was.
    He liked his life in the shadows. When he guarded a political figure or a celebrity, all eyes were on the client. But here, in Beth’s backyard, they knew his name, what he did for a living and the fact that he’d served in the military.
    â€œI wish our football team had a chance at a winning season this year,” Sam said. “It’s Jeff’s last year.”
    â€œHe’s going to play?” Darren asked.
    â€œRunning back. First string. But he’s not going to try to make the team in college. He wants to keep his grades up. You follow football much, Mike?” Sam asked.
    â€œI don’t have the time.”
    â€œToo bad.” Sam grinned. “Here it’s nearly a religion. Especially the high school and college games.” He turned his attention back to the grill.
    Mike leaned against the fence and watched the men. They were all dressed the same, in shorts and T-shirts. They were around his age, at various stages of fitness and hair loss. He’d never thought of himself as middle-aged, but these guys looked it and they were his contemporaries. Maybe he needed a new line of work. He rubbed his thigh and thought that might not be a bad idea, but what else did he know how to do?
    Darren turned the ribs over again. Mike’s turn at the barbecue had been mercifully brief.
    Jack, who was married to Christina—or was it Mary?—sat on one of the lawn chairs. “I’ve been thinking of getting one of those mowers you ride.”
    Darren laughed. “Your yard isn’t any bigger than this one. Where you gonna ride it?”
    â€œWe’re thinking of buying some property and building a cabin,” Jack said.
    Darren shook his head. “Then wait until you get the land. But if you need a chipper, I just got a great one. It would make mulch out of a chain-link fence.” He poked at the ribs. “Beth wants to redecorate the living room.”
    All the men groaned. “Don’t talk to me about decorating,” Jack said. “I was thinking of doing something in a floral print.” His voice was high. “How does this sample make you feel? ”
    Sam, tall and thin, with dark hair, motioned with his beer. “It took Sally three weeks to pick out tile for the guest bathroom. Three weeks!”
    â€œAnd how much did it cost?” Darren asked.
    â€œDon’t remind me. For that price, it should have been installed by naked dancing girls.”
    Roger, a large man with a belly hanging over the waistband of his shorts, leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I have a new assistant. You should see this girl. Twenty-two, maybe. With big eyes and bigger—” He cupped his hands in front of his chest.
    â€œYou working overtime yet?” Jack asked.
    Roger winked.
    Mike took another swallow of his beer, draining the bottle. The sun had slipped low enough that the backyard was in shade. There was a long deck behind the house. Two tables had been set up, with paper tablecloths and plastic glasses. There were lawn chairs scattered on the grass. From the deck, a stone path led to an oval-shaped swimming pool with a large Jacuzzi at one end. He felt as if he’d traveled to a foreign country. The natives might speak the same language, but he didn’t understand the subject matter. He also didn’t want to hear about Roger’s young assistant. It made him think about Cindy, and how Nelson had betrayed her.
    He