Alexander grabbed a glass of water off a passing tray and scanned his eyes across the room. It was filled with a variety of high class individuals, all clad in expensive clothing and carrying on conversations.
He felt disgusted as he watched old men fondle the asses of girls young enough to be their grandchildren, while middle-aged women spewed barely disguised threats at each other—he felt repulsion rise up in his throat.
Taking a sip from the glass in his hand, Alexander reprimanded himself. He was on a job. It didn't matter that he could feel his skin threatening to crawl off his body; he should be focusing on his charge.
He blinked and refocused his gaze on his client, he watched as she made her way through the crowd to greet another group of people that had arrived.
Jennifer was a new pop star that had gained a lot of popularity in the past year, with a string of consecutive chart topping hits and face on the cover of magazines. But with her popularity had also come threats from disgruntled antis. It made sense: although her songs were catchy and her face pretty, Alexander had yet to see her show any signs of warmth towards the other staff once the cameras stopped rolling. Although, she never seemed to have a problem with Alexander: she was always pleasant with him.
Eventually, when the threats were beginning to be made into reality (in the form of a lighting fixture almost falling on her during one of her performances), she had finally decided to hire herself a personal bodyguard.
That was where Alexander came in.
HAN Securities was a privately owned company that specialized in personal security: jobs ranged from installing cameras into households to body guarding. Of course, most of the jobs were more along the lines of the latter: the clientele at HAN Securities were often high profile individuals who had "rabid fans" or "rabid antis" and expected something more than just the installation of a few cameras. And they got what they paid for.
All of the "members" of HAN (a term used by those working there, in reference to the exclusivity of employment at HAN) were extremely qualified at what they did: members came from different facets of the armed forces, intelligence agencies, or were sometimes just pulled out of jail (a fact that meant nothing in the company). But, then again, qualifications were the least of it when the resumes of top war generals were dropped into the trash without a second thought.
Jennifer had come to HAN Securities for protection. She had asked (more like demanded) for the best and that was what she got.
Alexander never boasted, but the reality was that he was good at what he did, and if he wasn't the best field agent, he sure as heck was in the top five.
Alexander and Ryder, a fellow HAN member who specialized in intelligence work rather than being on the field, had been paired up to complete the case together, with Ryder acting as backup to Alexander.
They had been on the case for two months, however, and Alexander was getting tired of the concerts and the endless after-parties. It had only taken a few weeks to figure out who was behind most of the threats, but Alexander couldn't make a move until the man actually did something to endanger Jennifer. And, as luck would have it, the man hadn't done anything bad enough to be locked up for the past two months.
Alexander sighed and signaled for a waiter, dropping off a half-drunk glass. He knew it was wrong to want, but would it hurt for the man to threaten her life for once?
*
I sipped my drink, allowing my gaze to wander away from the female in front of me. In as much as Jennifer was a dear friend, I found myself bored at the prospect of spending the rest of the night at her party mixing with high society.
I drained the rest of my cocktail and placed the empty glass on a nearby table. Still, Jennifer had personally asked me to attend and it wasn't as if I had anything else to do, really. It was only fair that I showed my face for a few hours, long enough for my presence to be noted but not missed.
Turning my attention back to the crowd of people before me, I smiled automatically as one of them asked me a question. The sound of a deep masculine voice reached my ears. No doubt I would be leaving the place with more phone numbers.
"So, when did you return? I heard you were in New York for a while."
"I came back not too long ago." I answered vaguely, not feeling like flirting with the man. His face was obviously due to the work of plastic surgery and he had a bad habit of obnoxious flexing his muscles at me all too often.
The man didn't seem deterred by my answer, pressing forward.
"So why'd you come back?" he looked at me up and down, gaze sultry. "For a special somebody, perhaps?" he asked coyly.
I winked at him, watching as his breathing sped up slightly. "Now, you know that's a secret."
The man smirked, covering his mouth with a hand that showed that he was probably well into his forties. I worked to keep my smile in place.
The things I did for friends…
I allowed my gaze to wander again, looking for the person who was important enough for me to have spent the past thirty minutes fending off the advances of elderly men. Spotting her making her way toward me, I sighed in relief.
"If you will excuse me, I must go greet the host of this grand party." I bowed my head slightly. "It was lovely to speak to you, gentleman."
Making my escape, I met Jennifer halfway. She smiled in greeting, giving me a tight hug.
"Linette, how have you been? Still the playgirl, I see."
I smirked, pulling away from Jennifer. "I can't help it that men… and women find me irresistible. What kind of woman could I call myself if I didn't take advantage of their offers? Besides, what else was I supposed to do? I'm bored out of my mind." I sighed. "It would've been better if I was home instead of here."
Jennifer winced. "That bad, huh?"
I shrugged, looking around. "I'm sure everyone else is having a good time."
I turned back to her and looked her up and down, not liking what I was seeing. Jennifer had lost weight since I had last seen her: when we'd hugged, I could feel rib bones poking back at me. Her eyes, too, looked worse for wear. Although the makeup had done a good job at hiding it, I could see traces of sleepless nights.
I frowned. "I can't say the same for you, though. How are things?"
I didn't have to ask about her appearance for her to know what I was asking about.
"Ah, well, work has been hectic recently. I've been recording my next album, so I haven't had much time to eat and stuff." My friend said, brushing off my question. "So, how has work been lately? I heard you were going to model for ZAC's spring line this year."
I decided not to press her. "I was asked to, but I haven't…"
I paused momentarily as a man walked up behind Jennifer. I prided myself on my ability to recognize faces, even if I didn't remember names, but this was a face I hadn't seen before. The man was tall (albeit shorter than me) and slim, with short dark hair. He didn't stop as he walked past but he glanced up at me, our eyes momentarily making contact before the man disappeared into the crowd again.
I continued my sentence, my eyes fixed on the area where the man had disappeared. "…given them an answer yet. "
I shook my head. I didn't understand why the man had stood out to me in the crowd. I brushed it off. It was probably because I had never seen the man before.
I looked back at Jennifer. "I may just want to relax for a month or so before I sign up for any work here."
Jennifer didn't seem to notice my distraction as she nodded. "Makes sense. I've always wondered if it was a good thing that you got scouted so young. You've been working your butt off since middle school. It's about time you took time off."
I opened my mouth to make a comment about her doing the same when a scream pierced the quiet murmur of conversation in the room.
All conversation stopped as the entire room turned towards the source of the scream. There was a moment of absolute silence right before there were more cries as the people nearest to the problem saw what had happened.
"What in the world happened?" I murmured, trying to see past the crowd, only to find it was too closely packed for me to see past the bodies.
"Someone's been stabbed!" someone yelled from the crowd, causing the room to break out in more cries of panic. A woman nearby fainted, adding to the panic. I was jostled aside as security rushed in, trying to calm down the crowd and clear some space around the injured person. I watched as everyone ran around crazily, faintly amused.
These rich types and their need for melodrama.
"Jen, I suggest we—" I stopped short when I realized that Jennifer wasn't next to me anymore. Looking around, I spotted her a little ways away, trying to make her way through the crowd towards the staircase leading to the upper floors.
I frowned.
Why would Jennifer be going upstairs now?