Not a surprise. But it still sucked. Behind us, paparazzi followed on motorbikes, scooters, and in cars. A whole bunch of them. Oh man, this was just fucking great. No, wait, hold up. I needed an attitude adjustment. Enough with the moping and fretting. Especially since it wouldn’t help a damn thing. Deep breath. This too would pass. A few days and no doubt they’d be talking about someone else, and my stalker would be behind bars. This would all be over and I could go back to my normal life of coming and going as I pleased. After all, it couldn’t be any worse than when my idiot cheating ex’s sex tape hit the internet and I survived that. I’d been working in New York and all of the attention during that emotionally upsetting time was an unhelpful pain in the ass, and then some.

The gates to the underground parking garage beneath my building clanged shut behind us and I breathed a sigh of relief. “You might as well head home. I’ll be staying in for the rest of the night.”

“I’ll see you upstairs and check your apartment. Then I’ll be on my way.”

“But the building has security.” I undid my seatbelt. “You think that’s really necessary?”

“Yes, miss.”

I exhaled. Chin up, shoulders back, tits out. Time to pull my shit together and make my mom proud. “Okay then.”

He went before me, first checking that the elevator was empty, then he checked the hall outside my apartment.

“Your keys and security alarm code please, miss?” he asked, hand held out waiting.

It might have just been me, but we seemed to be standing awfully close together. It almost seemed weirdly intimate. Almost. No, my bad. Ziggy wore his usual professional façade with nary a hint of emotion on display. His gaze was shuttered, his bearing military rigid. It was definitely just me and my overactive imagination. Being vaguely attracted to your bodyguard was kind of a pain in the ass. Not that I couldn’t use the distraction right now.

Ziggy continued to stand there patiently waiting.

“Keys. Right.” I rummaged inside my Balenciaga City bag. Designer goodies were not only a weakness of mine, but a happy perk of being in the industry and achieving some small fame. “Ah, just a minute. They’re in here somewhere.”