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Ramble On Started by: EvelynRenford on Dec 12, '19 15:11

The letter wasn't left in the mailbox, but was delivered by a courier to the woman professionally known as "Claire". It was written on thick parchment in a flowing hand.

 

Claire, 

You are receiving this letter because you are one of four women who have been extensively vetted and approved as a potential bodyguard for my daughter, about to embark on her education in the United States. Enclosed, you will find a first class ticket to London, where you will be greeted by our driver and brought to our estate in the country.

Job requirements: 

- willingness to remain in New York

- 24/7 availability

- one year commitment

 

Yearly Salary: Negotiable, but will begin at 7 figures.

 

Charles Renford II

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Claire looked down on the telegram in one hand, and the plane ticket in the other. London? How had anyone caught wind of her over in Europe? She'd never been there. 

Had to be her last boss. What started as an internship for a district court judge during her undergraduate days had accidentally become a security position. Take a bullet, drive evasively. She'd done those two things for the Honorable Lawrence Gaston after a very unpopular ruling, and had been at his side for six years until his retirement.

Now, she was out of work. There was still plenty of savings, but Claire lacked direction. Keep on with the security, or continue on into law school? Maybe this letter in her hands was supposed to be fate nudging her in the right direction.

Especially if it included seven figures.

***

London was just as damp, foggy, and miserable as everyone had told her it would be. After her plane touched down, a chauffeur hustled up to her immediately and offered to take her carry-on.

"Hello Ms. Claire, would you follow me please? The car is just out front."

"How do you know... oh. Pictures too, I presume. You folks are thorough."

"It's expected," he said, leading her out the doors and into the back of an expensive car. During the ride, she noticed the glass looked funny. Tapping it with a knuckle, she raised an eyebrow. It was much thicker than standard automobile glass. 

"Some sort of security feature, these funny windows?"

"It's expected," he said, smiling at her over his shoulder. He was pretty friendly for a Londoner. Her friends had been wrong about that much, at least.

By the time the car had wound its way up the long drive of the Renford estate, Claire had fallen mute. The landscaping alone, with its statuary and gardens, was massive. The home itself was a beautiful monstrosity that surely required several teams of various staff to maintain. Outside the car, she stood there as the driver collected her bag again and brought her to the door, which opened as if the butler behind it had been hovering on the other side in waiting. 

"Ms. Claire, if you'll follow me to the library. We've prepared coffee, two creams two sugars, and almond biscotti for you there."

"How did you-"

"It's expected."

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Charles Renford was sitting in the library reading a book of poetry. When Claire entered, he immediately closed the book and stood to greet her. 

"Miss Claire. Charles Renford." He paused, then extended a hand for her to shake. It wasn't customary, of course, to shake hands with a woman, but for someone in her line of work it seemed appropriate. "Please." 

He indicated the chair next to his; in between them was a small table, and it was immediately occupied with coffee and almond biscotti for Claire, as well as a cup of tea for Charles Renford.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice. You understand, of course, that constantly rearranging one's own life is expected. I imagine it's not easy, but it will be a necessity for my daughter's safety to ensure she has a bodyguard who exhibits selflessness- even if it is for only a short term and financially motivated."

Charles Renford paused, studying Claire, who's eyes had wandered to the portraits on the library wall. One wall had two women who looked like they could hold their own in a fight. One was a brunette  woman with a gun in one hand and a green olive in the other, ready to pop it into her mouth. The other woman was a short-haired blonde wearing a western-style hat, who had her thumbs tucked into a gun-belt. The other walls had a large family portrait on each: one portrait had a young man, his wife, their son, and a daughter, while the other one was simply Charles Renford II and his daughter, a strikingly beautiful girl with light brown hair and a beaming smile. In the portrait, she looked to be about sixteen.

"Well, Miss Claire. Would you prefer for me to tell you about the prospective job? Or would you rather ask specific questions about what it would entail?"

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"Both, if you don't mind. I'll be honest with you, I never expected a job opportunity in this line of work. Certainly none coming from overseas. To be perfectly clear, I hope you understand I've only had the one security position? I assume you heard of me through Judge Gaston in Los Angeles. I worked for him for six years until his retirement," she said, her eyes wandering again to the photos on the wall. Women like that in the family, it answered the question as to why he'd trust a female to get the job done.

"Your daughter needs the security, is she attending University? Cornell or Columbia, perhaps?" 

Of course it would be ivy league, if she was off to college in America. A teenage girl headed to New York with this kind of family money could certainly use protection. 

Just as long as Claire didn't fall into the role of babysitter, that is. Hopefully the girl wasn't pretentious and spoiled. What a nightmare that would be...

"Do I get to meet her today? Your daughter?" She smiled politely. 

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"Yes, you were highly recommended by a business associate who crossed paths with Judge Gaston. You'll understand, of course, that most people in your line of work are men- particularly young men between 18 and 30. And you'll also see why this is less than ideal. If I had a pound for every time I've heard about some torrid affair between a young woman and her bodyguard... well, I'd have a few pounds at least."

Charles looked at Claire steadily.

"Evelyn is going to America to get her education- and perhaps find a husband if she meets the right sort of man. I don't want her coming home with a swelled belly and a bodyguard for an in law. No offense. She'll be attending Vassar, the best women's college in your country. While my sincere hope is that I pay you for nothing and your services are never required, I'm concerned about instances of kidnapping and ransom, and I'd rather be proactive."

"Before we discuss meeting Evelyn, why not tell me a bit more about yourself? I've done my homework, of course, but I'd prefer to hear things in your own words. How did you get involved in this line of work? What are your long term goals?"

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She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the 'swelled belly' bit. 

"No offense taken," she said, then continued. "I come from California originally. Completed my undergraduate degree at UCLA, and was interning during that time at the courthouse. It was my intention to complete my law degree," she said, pausing to sample the coffee. Superb roast, surprisingly. She knew the country was all about tea.

"Judge Gaston was in chambers after a verdict. The defendant was none too happy with the final ruling, and tried to shoot him. I happened to be there, got myself shot in the process, but Judge Gaston saw fit to remove me from internship and hire me as his personal protection, which I did for the next half a dozen years. There wasn't much to it, honestly. No more attempts on his life, anyway.

"When he retired, the allure of becoming a lawyer had faded. I wasn't sure what direction my life should go. Then I received the letter," she said, lifting it from her lap. It had been in her hand the entire trip. 

"Not too much else to tell, beyond that. I'm single, almost thirty, and my parents are back in Los Angeles, mourning the loss of a lawyer in the family. No siblings. I've taken various firearms and self defense courses, and I'm a fair boxer. There really isn't much to distract me from my duties, as you can see. Although I do wish to have a cat, if your daughter isn't allergic, or intolerant," she said, trying on a small smile.

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Charles listened carefully to Claire's story, and he was either legitimately interested enough or a good enough actor to it seem like he hadn't known it previously.

"If you'll let me know when you'd like to get a cat, and if you do wind up getting this job, then please make me aware. I'll ensure that we find a suitable cat for you that has received all necessary medications."

He paused.

"Do you have any other questions for me, Miss Claire? If not, I suppose it is time you met Evelyn. We'll see how she takes to you and, if hired, you'll hear from us within 24 hours."

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A free cat? Interesting job benefit. Then again, she could wind up with a rich person's version of a cat... one that looked like an angora sweater, or worse, one of those hairless things.

"That's a kind offer. And yes, I'd love to meet the young lady," she said, since she really had no questions left that could be answered without meeting the girl herself. 'Is your kid a spoiled brat?' seemed a bit uncouth. Picking up her mug, she enjoyed another sip of the coffee and waited to see for herself just what this Evelyn Renford was all about.

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Charles nodded to her, then stood and adjusted his suit-jacket.

"If you'll just follow those doors to the library's second room, she should be waiting there for you."

Of course the library had a second room; when she entered it, Claire saw two comfortable reading chairs in front of an enormous window looking out onto the grounds. Instead of a young woman, however, Claire found an older woman who must be in her sixties, if not older. The tiny body suggested someone in her eighties, but the eyes and face had a keenness and light that seemed more appropriate in someone younger. 

"Have a seat, dear. You'll be meeting Evelyn shortly; I'm her grandmother, Kathryn Renford. I'm afraid I had a couple questions of my own for you, though they should be relatively short ones. In fact, if you wanted to be uncharitable you could say I have demands, but you seem like a nice young woman, so let us call them requests, instead."

She smiled, gesturing to the other chair across from her.

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This wasn't odd. Nope. Not at all. But for seven figures? She could accommodate. 

"Ms. Renford. Pleased to meet you," she said, sitting down since the older woman hadn't stood, or offered her hand. 

"Beautiful view," she said, gesturing towards the picture window. It wasn't just complimentary conversation, she could see herself sitting here with a cup of that really good coffee, getting lost in her thoughts while gazing out over the pristine landscape, and losing lots of time. 

"Ask away, Ma'am. I'm an open book. If chosen, you're entrusting me with something precious to you. If you weren't thorough, I'd have a heck of a lot more questions," she smiled. Damn, she'd left the biscotti in the other room!

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Kathryn smiled at her guest.

"Very pleased to meet you as well, Miss Claire. And Mrs. Renford is fine. Lady Renford is far too pretentious for my tastes, although I suspect that that is a result of growing up in America. Some things never change, I suppose."

She paused, studying the young woman across from her.

"Did your parents spoil you, Claire? Did you grow up wealthy? Comfortable? Wanting? I confess I didn't read the report on you, although I did hire the men who wrote it."

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"Spoiled? No Ma'am. I was an only child in a middle-class family, but my parents were relatively strict by California standards," she said. It felt as if the woman had read her mind, the word 'spoiled' flashing like a sign on her forehead.

"They are incredibly disappointed I didn't go on to law school. This 'frivolous hobby' isn't what they had in mind for their daughter, and they're of course concerned I'll be seriously hurt some day. Beyond the shooting," she said as the corner of her mouth quirked up. 

"Some may call it stubborn or headstrong. I prefer to heed the adage 'to thine own self be true'. I'd have been a decent lawyer... but I wouldn't have been happy."

She hoped it was the right thing to say. For whatever reason, beyond the obvious one, she wanted to impress this woman.

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"Good." Kathryn folded her hands in her lap as she responded to Claire not being spoiled. "I'd never be so daft as to truly weep for those who grow up rich. But it does tend to produce a bubble. Those who spend the entirety of their formative years in comfort and relative happiness tend to lack... perspective. I have no intention of cutting off my granddaughter and sending her to live in the streets to teach her a lesson- but I intend this trip to be far more educational for her than what she'll learn at school."

Kathryn glanced out to the grounds.

"She's sick to death of listening to sermons from her grandmother. Don't feel  that you have to force things, but if you can help her gain this perspective and become more independent, you can earn a substantial bonus. Enough to pursue whatever self you would like to be true to, and with a more fortunate ending than Polonius, to boot."

The old woman stood up slowly and smiled.

"If she ever threatens to fire you or cut off your pay, don't listen to her. Or Charles, for that matter. It was nice to meet you, and I wish you the best. Evelyn will be in shortly."

Kathryn shuffled out of the room; a few minutes later, a strikingly beautiful young girl wearing a dark blue dress that matched her eyes strolled into the library with her hands behind her back. Her dark chestnut hair matched the wood that dominated the room. She curtsied politely to Claire.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Claire. Is that your first name? Or your last name? It was the only one listed that I saw."

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"Yes Ma'a- Ev- err," she stammered. Younger than her by a decade, give or take, but respect needed to be shown.

​​​​​​"Miss Evelyn. It's my first name, I prefer to use it exclusively, but if you need my surname, I'm sure it's on the documentation, somewhere. Your family wouldn't have let me through the doors without knowing it. Nice to meet you!"

Oh, this girl was going to be a hassle, Claire saw this immediately. Her looks alone would require Claire to carry a baseball bat around New York. She didn't waltz in demanding a shoe polishing, though. There was that.

"I imagine there are things you'd like to know about whoever is potentially hovering over you. You can ask me anything. See if we 'click', and whatnot. Or maybe you have a little mental test prepared for me?" 

Claire tucked her hands into her slacks and gave steady eyes. Not dominating, but not submissive, either. Until she was told, or hired, otherwise, this young woman was nothing but an equal, and would be treated as such. Smart, attractive, wealthy. Claire would not make the mistake of underestimating whatever may or may not be going on in that pretty little head. 

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"Claire is fine," said Evelyn. "It's nice to meet you as well."

She walked over to the chairs Claire had just left, sitting down and smoothing her dress.

"I've already read all about you, of course. If it makes you feel any better, you were the one I felt best about. And just meeting you now, you seem... normal. In a good way, I mean! One of the other women wouldn't even make eye contact with me. I've already hired one woman named Abby, but I don't have as much confidence in her ability to... what's the kindest way to phrase this? Keep up with me? But it seemed unfair to hire one person exclusively. What if the one person got a cold, or some such thing?"

Evelyn shrugged.

"Anyways, I'm still curious about you. Tell me about your life, yourself. What's your favorite book? What time do you usually go to bed and wake up?"

Her voice dropped, speaking somewhat conspiratorially as her eyes flicked to the room where Claire had met Charles Renford.

"When it comes to enforcing instructions... do you tend to follow the spirit of the law? Or the letter of the law?"

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She was biting the inside of her cheek again, this would become an awful tell.

"I like encyclopedias. Don't laugh! It's because you can pull any letter off the shelf, open to any page, and learn something absolutely new."

One bodyguard hired already? Ouch. Pull out the big guns, Claire.

"As you know, I was studying to be a lawyer. Ended up working as a bodyguard for a judge. Got shot," she said flippantly, then leaned forward a bit.

"Left a weird scar, I can show you sometime," she grinned. "Since the judge retired, I've slacked a bit. Up late, wake around eight. Light sleeper though," she said, her eyes narrowing a bit. 

"As far as rules," she said, her eyes flicking to the doors as well, "...I like them, the neatness of them. It's why I studied law. But! I understand and appreciate the exceptions. After all, they define those rules, right?"

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Evelyn studied her for a long while, and Claire could see machinery working behind those eyes. There was a mind there, behind the dress, the money, and the estate. Whatever calculating was going on, Claire seemed to pass the test.

"Perfect answers. Do you have any questions for me, Claire? I'm curious what you're curious about."

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Oh, she had questions, but they were of such a sensitive, revealing nature that it was too soon to ask. Shame, because it's the way people answer, rather than the answers themselves, that truly reveal the questioned.

"Have you ever visited New York? During admissions, on a vacation...? I've not been, myself. I hear it's a bit crazy," she smiled, ever the conspiratorial sister.

Claire suddenly wanted this job very badly. Evelyn Renford was more than a curiosity, she felt like a lively little challenge, the next encyclopedia book pulled off the shelf, her own little adventure in 'R'.

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Evelyn leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and getting comfortable.

"I briefly visited Vassar after applying there, just to get a feel for the place. And I loved the city. I've been to London, Paris, Rome, a few dozen other cities here in Europe, but I'd never been to America until this year. It's where my grandparents were from, and it's why we don't have much of an accent compared to most. Maybe grandmother wanted to take me, but my father said no. I'm looking forward to exploring it; the city seemed so alive. And it's the perfect city for me, I think."

She smiled.

"I'm looking forward to the adventure... but am I right in thinking this is only the start of my cross examination?"

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"Cross examination? No, no," she chuckled. "Those days are behind me. Frankly, I'm looking forward to a new adventure, too. New York sounds like an ideal place to have one." 

It seemed to have gone well... maybe the decision was already made? A little assertiveness shouldn't hurt matters, one way or the other.

"So when do we start it?" She grinned.

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