Love Unrehearsed - Page 151/170

People holding guns kill people. My answer was quick. “No.”

“I should take you to the range and teach you to fire it. It’s so much fun!”

“Marie, why the hell do you have a gun?” She shrugged. “Mike bought it for me. It was my graduation gift. He’s worried that Gary might try to shoot me so he wants me to be prepared to shoot first. I can’t believe that crazy guy coming in here like that. He scared the crap out of me.”

Yeah, that was a load of lies. Gary was no longer contesting the divorce and was too busy fooling around with that Amy woman to even bother. As long as Marie didn’t try to take more of Gary’s money, she wasn’t even a blip on his radar anymore.

“Just so you know, I’ve applied for a per-mit to carry a concealed weapon, so whenever we travel locally, I’ll most likely be armed.

Stop looking at me as if I’ve grown another head.”

Pete was standing in the middle of the pub, glaring at both of us. “You care to tell me what the fuck that was that I just walked into?”

I waved him off. My best friend drawing weapons on people to protect me was more important. “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

“Pete, call the police. It’s protocol. All threats need to be reported.” Marie took a sip of water, averting her eyes from me. “Tar, the way this works is that you are supposed to go about your day without worrying about security. It’s my job now to worry about it, and it’s also my job to be as transparent as possible and not allow you to be worried about your safety. Bodyguards should be visible but invisible. Understand?”

“I thought that you were just going with me to public appearances and stuff? I didn’t realize you were taking this so seriously.” The thought of my best friend actually putting her life on the line to protect me suddenly became very real and very frightening.

It was almost too much to bear.

Her eyes opened wider. “Of course I’m taking this seriously. Very seriously!” Guilt swept over me, pressing hard on my chest. Somewhere in my mind I’d thought that we were just saying she was my bodyguard as an excuse to allow her to travel with Ryan and me—like it was a cover story or something. After seeing her pull a gun on someone, the reality of the situation became clear. I rushed right over and threw my arms around her. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.

Thank you. I love you.”

Marie patted my back. “I love you, too, Tar. We have a lot to learn about stalkers and how to handle them, but I promise to keep you informed from now on, okay?” I nodded, hugging her neck.

Pete cleared his throat and showed us his cell phone. “Cops are on their way.” My eyes sought out the cameras up in the corner. There was also a small, dark dome directly above the cash register. “Someone care to tell me when they got installed?” I asked. “Since no one thought it important to tell me.”

“Oh, shit,” Pete groaned. “I forgot to tell you. They were installed yesterday while you were in New York fetching the paparazzi guy’s ashes. It’s a good thing, though. We got that guy on camera.”

Marie pulled her hair off her shoulders. “I made him look directly at it, so we should have a pretty clear shot of his face. God, I hope I’m not in trouble for drawing my weapon. Mike will have my ass for that.” That might not be such a bad thing?

“You know what I mean,” she groaned at me. “Taryn, I hate to say it, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be down in the bar anymore.”

“What?” Am I being kicked out of my own bar now?

“I agree,” Pete said solemnly.

“You’re too accessible to them,” Marie continued. “That wasn’t the first time that particular weirdo came in here. He’s been trying to deliver flowers to you for several weeks. Besides, this is a public place. There is nothing to prevent anyone from just waltz-ing through the front doors and posing a threat. I’m afraid that the only option we have is to remove you. Like it or not, you’re a celebrity—a public figure. Your status has put you in a precarious position.” My body went rigid. This was my pub and now I was being told not to enter it? “I’m not famous.”

“Oh yes you are!” Marie countered. “Even People has published several articles on you.

I know you don’t believe it, but this is the way it is.”

I disagreed. “But plenty of celebrities own businesses—restaurants and stuff. I’m no different.”

Marie laughed lightly. “Yeah, they do. But you can’t walk into one of Robert De Niro’s restaurants and chat him up while he makes you a cheeseburger.”