The Bodyguard ✔

Chapter Fourty-Five

We're both extremely lucky to have found great dresses ánd matching shoes. All of that in under three hours. It must be a record of some sort.

Vicky and I are both enjoying some well deserved rest while sitting at the hairdresser. We've had such a great time together. I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun doing normal girl stuff. I will admit, I am certainly not suited to be doing this every week. But today was a blast.

Vicky's sipping her strawberry milkshake while eyeing outside the shop. I follow her gaze to Jabari and Tyler, who are standing almost motionless at two distinct places. That looks familiar.

"Hasn't it struck you yet?"

I take a break from sipping my vanilla milkshake. "What has? That they're probably all related to each other?"

Vicky laughs.

I wasn't talking about all three of them, Frank, Tyler and Jabari, actually being siblings of each other, but rather pointing out their similar behavior. Physically, they look quite different, to a certain extend. Frank has dark brown hair, almost black, and an olive skin. Tyler is blond and his skin is fair, whereas Jabari has black hair and mocha skin. That being said, all three of them are taller than most people and are very athletically build. They're behavior is the part that makes them so alike: they're quiet, attentive and seem to blend in everywhere, despite their striking appearance.

"I bet they all went to the same school." Vicky says, while we both continue to stare shamelessly. "I'm betting it was something like 'The Royal School of Houseplants'."

We both laugh.

"You do know I'm sitting right here?" Frank, sitting only a couple of feet away on a comfortable chair, puts down a bundle of papers on his lap so he can look straight at us in the reflection of the mirror.

"Excuse us, mr. Houseplant, I thought you were supposed to be invisible today?" Vicky has no mercy.

Frank doesn't say anything back. He only looks at her intensively, to eventually focus his attention back at his papers. I can't help myself but be extremely amused.

I swallow my smile when Vicky's hairdresser comes up to us with a hair dryer and different types of hair brushes. It takes her about fifteen minutes to incorporate soft waves, like smooth hills of the Sahara by a fiery sunset, in Vicky's natural red hair. This woman is a magician. I wish I could make my hair look that good every day.

"It's perfect." Vicky says to the hairdresser. "It's exactly what I wanted, thank you so much."

The woman smiles while stroking Vicky's curls on her shoulders. "You're welcome, dear." She glances to my hair. "And what are we going to do with you, eh?" She leaves Vicky's curls behind, only to catch a wet lock of my own hair between her slender fingers. "Should we curl or straighten it?"

I shake my head. "I would rather have it tied together, otherwise it might get in front of my eyes while playing." The woman nods condesentely. Earlier, she asked all about the party Vicky and I were going to. It seemed to excite her as much as it does us. "I know just what to do."

***

Countless minutes have passed, and still I sit in this chair. Vicky has taken off, wandering somewhere in this mall and she has taken Jabari with her. Poor guy.

My hair is drying and the hairdresser has gone off on a break, while I just sit here, staring in the mirror. Frank hasn't moved much, being completely fixated on those papers he brang with him. I wonder what's written on them that makes them so interesting. But my mind slips into the memory of merely twenty minutes ago. Something Vicky said keeps echoing in my mind, the point she made about Frank's behavior being so similar to Tyler's and Jabari's. 'It is like they went to the same school.' She said. I decide to investigate.

"Frank?"

Without taking his eyes from the documents on his lap, he murmurs a sound, letting me know I have his attention.

I carefully choose my words. "How long have you known Tyler and Jabari?"

Frank turns a page and answers calmly. "A relatively long time."

"They're your friends?"

After he turned another page, he responds. "Yes, you could say that."

The hairdresser returns from her break and starts working on my haircut again.

"Do you know them from your time in Germany?"

Frank doesn't say anything for a couple of seconds and just when I fear he ended our conversation, he says quietly: "No, I met them after I left Germany."

A couple of days ago, he told me that he had lived in Berlin until the age of eighteen. I remember that.

"I don't recall you telling me where you went after Berlin." Even from a distance, and in the reflection of the mirror, I notice the small muscles in his face tense when he clenches his jaw.

"Yes, I don't recall telling you anything about that either." He then reassembles his documents and stands up from his chair. Frank faces my hairdresser. "Could we round this up in twenty minutes?"

The woman is a bit taken by the sudden harshness of his voice, but quickly pulls herself together. "Fifteen will do."

Frank nods and turns around. Just like that, he leaves.

"Short temper, that man of yours has."

My cheeks turn immediately red by the hairdresser's comment. "Oh no, he's not... we're not." I take a breath. "He's an employee." God, that sounds awful.

The woman raises her eyebrows, but leaves it be. She has a point though.

Sometimes I almost forget how moody Frank can get when being asked the 'wrong' type of questions.

Nevertheless, I feel like we're making progress...

...in a way.