THE BODYGUARD
PART ONE
PART ONE
I open all the cabinets in search, but find no alcohol. Turning to George, I nod to him as if that's all I need to say about it. He gives a half-bow in return and waits for me to speak. But, what can I say right now? I have no idea how to be the master yet and this man knows it.
"George, tell me what I need to know. Simple, so I can understand."
"There isn't much to it. You need to make one million dollars."
"That's it? One million dollars? By when? What are the rules?"
I hear him sigh and it makes me smile that I still exacerbate him. I give him a moment to ponder my litany of questions.
"No rules, just earn one million dollars. The when of it is simple: when you show me one million dollars, the estate passes into your name."
See, this I understand. Earn a million by hook or crook as they used to say. No rules, just do it as they say nowadays. Earn a million living in the ghetto and having no assets. This should be a trick.
"Peter," I say, turning towards the blonde haired bodyguard. He seems taller than I first thought and thicker in the shoulders. I don't know what I'll do with this man.
"Yes?" he asks. I doubt he knows any better than me right now.
"It seems you're my only asset. Tell me how you'll make me money."
"I'm not the idea man," he answers.
I guess that's about right. Glancing at George, I see he doesn't have anything to offer either. "Find me the richest man in this ghetto. King of the hoodlums. I bet a man like that works in cash."
"That's a good idea, I'll get right on that," Peter says, making a quick exit from the room. He does take a moment to dead bolt the outer door. This man doesn't rush. I like that. We'll have to explore his talents later.
Left with George, I sit at the only chair at the mini-kitchen table near the fridge. He warms my coffee and I sip it. He stands to my left, next to the phone as if waiting for orders. What is a girl to do with a servant? I've got to learn about being the master.
"Can I make a suggestion?" George asks.
"All you want. I have no idea what to do."
"Before you do anything rash, take a moment to add your assets and make a plan to earn the money."
Assets? Did I hear that right? I have money? How much? As if hearing my thoughts, George starts answering my questions.
"50k per year allowance per year, expenses, and all per diem."
"Since when? When were you going to tell me about this?"
"Since your 13th birthday. In total, you have almost 500k in your name."
"George, tell me what I need to know. Simple, so I can understand."
"There isn't much to it. You need to make one million dollars."
"That's it? One million dollars? By when? What are the rules?"
I hear him sigh and it makes me smile that I still exacerbate him. I give him a moment to ponder my litany of questions.
"No rules, just earn one million dollars. The when of it is simple: when you show me one million dollars, the estate passes into your name."
See, this I understand. Earn a million by hook or crook as they used to say. No rules, just do it as they say nowadays. Earn a million living in the ghetto and having no assets. This should be a trick.
"Peter," I say, turning towards the blonde haired bodyguard. He seems taller than I first thought and thicker in the shoulders. I don't know what I'll do with this man.
"Yes?" he asks. I doubt he knows any better than me right now.
"It seems you're my only asset. Tell me how you'll make me money."
"I'm not the idea man," he answers.
I guess that's about right. Glancing at George, I see he doesn't have anything to offer either. "Find me the richest man in this ghetto. King of the hoodlums. I bet a man like that works in cash."
"That's a good idea, I'll get right on that," Peter says, making a quick exit from the room. He does take a moment to dead bolt the outer door. This man doesn't rush. I like that. We'll have to explore his talents later.
Left with George, I sit at the only chair at the mini-kitchen table near the fridge. He warms my coffee and I sip it. He stands to my left, next to the phone as if waiting for orders. What is a girl to do with a servant? I've got to learn about being the master.
"Can I make a suggestion?" George asks.
"All you want. I have no idea what to do."
"Before you do anything rash, take a moment to add your assets and make a plan to earn the money."
Assets? Did I hear that right? I have money? How much? As if hearing my thoughts, George starts answering my questions.
"50k per year allowance per year, expenses, and all per diem."
"Since when? When were you going to tell me about this?"
"Since your 13th birthday. In total, you have almost 500k in your name."
READ EPISODE THREE - THE MASTER OF VEGAS
