|posted on 10-Jun-2002 4:53:04 PM by ISLANDGIRL5|
|Title: A Safe Place to Hide|
Category: AU, No Aliens, Mainly K/I, but a little of everyone
Disclaimer: I own nothing except a healthy obsession with anything Roswell. Oh, yeah, and my truck, but you can't have that.....
Summary: Isabel Evans is a famous fashion model, with thousands of fans. But there is one fan she wishes she didn't have. When her safety becomes an issue, a close friend calls on a sibling to be her personal bodyguard. When they meet, both people have some issues they need to work out, but can they help each other?
A SAFE PLACE TO HIDE
Crowds had gathered at the Arena for the very first Versace show of the year. The New Year's Eve show had been a tremendous success last year, and the designer decided to make it an annual event. However, it was impossible to determine whether the immense crowds had turned out the see the clothing pieces, or the person modeling them. The star of this year's show was none other than Isabel Evans.
Isabel was the fashion market's hottest model. Recently becoming popular by being backed by Revlon Cosmetics, Isabel had taken the modeling world by storm. She was the Nation's Sweetheart, America's smalltown girl made big.
Isabel was born in the Mountains of North Carolina, deep in the heart of the Tarheel state. She was the second child to a couple that made their living operating a small bed and breakfast, a favorite with tourists. She was two years younger than her brother, Max. She had always been a pretty child, with hazel brown eyes and a waterfall of honey blonde curls. As they grew older, Max became fiercely protective of his sister as boys lined up to try their luck with her. Isabel was to kind and gentle hearted and couldn't stand the thought of turning down an offer and hurint someone's feelings, so she accepted every date she was ever offered, and was hardly ever home on the weekends. None of her dates ever got serious, and only a select few had ever been accepted twice. When a guy couldn't get the message, Max was there to give it to him.
At her high school graduation, a talent scout for a modeling agency had been in the audience watching a niece graduate. He approached Isabel, and the rest, they say, is history. She started out with small commercials and modeling jobs, but when she landed Revlon's fresh face of the year, she became the most sought after model in the industry. Max became her manager, and was in charge of accepting and turning down offers. They were pouring in from around the world, and Max was a very busy man.
Shortly after she landed the Revlon job, Isabel met Grant Sorenson, and was swept off her feet. He was a male model, and had been picked up to be the male part in the Revlon ad. For Isabel, it was love at first sight. She had never met anyone so nice, so sophisticated, and so....into her. Isabel was head over heels for Grant, and the two quicky became a pair. For a little over a year, the two were a couple, and Isabel thought the relationship had become serious. Their relationsip came to an abrupt halt when Isabel caught Grant with another woman. The fact that the other woman was none other than Tess Harding, the only other model who's superstar status even rivaled Isabel's had both infuriated her, and broken her heart. Since then, Isabel had become bitter and resentful, not letting anyone else in her world, and often at times, shutting out those that were closest to her. On the outside, Isabel had the perfect life. On the inside, she was an emotional wreck.
Tonight was the biggest show of her career yet, and she had been in Miami for a week promoting the event.
In the past few weeks, Isabel had been receiving threatening letters from an obsessed fan. Her brother had stepped up security, and Isabel's friends made sure she was never alone. Isabel had taken the threats in stride, brushing them off, not allowing herself to be scared by the meaningless words. After Isabel's security had had t usher away unruly fans that had somehow gotten past them, Isabel had begun to get scared. She was afraid someone would get to her.
Isabel's best friends were Maria Deluca and Liz Evans, her brothers wife. Maria was Isabel's personal photographer, and handled all of Isabel's photo shoots. On the side, she specialized in food, taking photos of food for restaurant chains to appear in magazines and in commercials to promote their products.
Liz, on the other hand, was Isabel's stylist. She was in charge of Isabel's hair and makeup. Max was her manager, and Maria's fiancé, Michael Guerin, was in charge of Isabel's security.
Michael was especially busy tonight, with security having been stepped up a notch. A letter had been received a few days ago threatening that something would happen at the Versace show, so it had been kept from Isabel to keep her from getting frightened, and Max had taken extra precautions for his sisters safety.
"Isabel, you have to hold still. I can't finish your eyes unless you are absolutely still!" Liz said in frustration.
Isabel huffed. "Liz, would you hurry already? You have been on my makeup for an hour, and it's getting ridiculous."
"Well, Isabel, we have certain guidelines and special precautions that have to be taken to match the outfits you'll be wearing."
"And my pictures will turn out awful if everything doesn't match. We can't have Isabel Evans wearing mismatched makeup." Maria commented.
Isabel rolled her eyes. "Maria! Quit taking pictures. Give me at least a little privacy before heaven's sake! Why don't you go somewhere, do somethig useful." Isabel snapped.
"Isabel, I am so glad you are so happy and cheerful tonight."
"Can it, Maria. You're getting on my nerves."
"Hey, guys, can we just cool it for one minute?" Liz turned to look at Maria. Why don't you go see if they're about ready to start. She'll be done in a minute."
Maria glared at Isabel, then turned and stomped out of the room, her hands on her hips.
"Must you be so difficult, Isabel?" Liz asked, putting the finishing touches on her makeup.
"Liz, If it were up to me, you'd be leaving this room with her."
Liz frowned. Isabel had once been a good friend and a lot of fun. Since she broke up with Grant a few months ago, she had become bitter and cynical and had changed dramatically. It was hard to even like her anymore.
"Go On, Isabel. It's about to start," Liz said, after Maria returned to the room.
Maria and Liz looked at each other and rolled their eyes when Isabel headed out of the room, her nose in the air. "Man," Maria whispered. "I sure would like to give Grant Sorenson a piece of my mind for turning our sweet Isabel into that bitter hag!" Liz stifled a giggle as they followed Isabel to the backstage area.
1 hour later, Isabel breezed off stage, after her last trip down the runway. She accepted congratulations on a job well done, and headed straight to her dressing room. Max and Liz were going to follow her in, but she slammed the door in their faces and locked them out.
As she settled in, Isabel walked to her dressing table. Bouquets of flowers were waiting for her, as well as small gifts left by the designers and staff for a job well done. She reached for the first box and opened it. Godiva Chocolates. Again. She threw the box away, not bothering to see who it was from, and reached for the next one. She opened up, and screamed. Inside the box was a blonde barbie doll, dressed to look just like Isabel in her Revlon add, a metal blade sticking from it's throat. The clothes had been stained red to look like blood, and there was a note attached. It was made with letters of all shapes and sizes cut out of a magazine. It said simply, I'll be Watching You.
Isabel screamed and threw the box across the room. Hearing her scream, Max and Michael ran to her room and busted the door in when they found it still locked. Liz went immediately to Isabel, and Max picked up the box, while Michael barked out orders to security to get everyone out of the backstage area who didn't have a pass issued from either Max or himself. Isabel was shaking uncontrollably, and noone was able to calm her down.
"That's it," Maria said. "I'm calling my brother."
"For what, Maria?" Michael asked.
"For Isabel. He's a CIA Agent, for goodness sake. She needs someone around who can protect her."
"And what am I? Chopped liver?"
"Michael, you are extremely busy with the security staff, and Isabel needs someone who will stay around her 24/7. Someone to be her personal bodyguard," Maria said.
"Maria I can handle this."
"Like you handled it this time?" Maria countered, hands on her hips.
"Fine. Call him. See if I care. But you let him know if he comes, he takes his orders from me."
Maria found a quite corner and picked up her cell phone. She dialed her brother's number and waited three rings until he picked up.
"Kyle," Maria said, her voice shaky and frightened for her friend. "It's me. I need your help."
Allrighty, guys. Let me know if Ishould continue this or not. I have only one more part left to Don't Die, My Love, and only a few more parts to Where the Road Leads, so I figured I'd go ahead and get this one out to if people like it or not. The next chapter will introduce Isabel's soon to be bodyguard, and we'll go from there. Let me know if I should continue with this or not. No FB, no more parts!!!
Now get them fingers moving!
[ edited 9 time(s), last at 8-Aug-2002 10:49:14 AM ]
|posted on 10-Jun-2002 5:39:23 PM by ISLANDGIRL5|
|hmmmm.....been up almost an hour, and not one reply.|
Is it that bad?????
|posted on 13-Jun-2002 3:16:00 PM by ISLANDGIRL5|
|Hey Guys! Thanks for the FB. Luv yas!|
Kyle Valenti trudged heavily up the rickety metal stairs, and down the hallway to Room 125. Sighing, and pausing to prepare himself to see the harsh reality that was his life, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He was almost knocked off his feet by the assault on his senses. The smell of musty walls, stale beer, and old beer mixed with the cigarette smoke that seeped through the barriers between his room and the next made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. There were no lights on in the room, but the steady blinking red neon light outside his window provided him with flashes of brightness. Even without a bright light, the "MOTEL" sign's precisely timed blinks lit the room enough for him to see the waterspots on the ceiling, the cigarette burns in the carpet, the dinginess of the comforter on the bed. Even in the dark, he could see the dull brown stains on the counters and the table from something he was pretty sure he didn't want to know what. From the street below his window, he could hear all the sounds living in a big city provided. The rush of the cars as they passed by and the occassional horn blowing. The faint sound of rap music blaring from a radio perched on the shoulders of a rugged looking teenager. The clink and clatter of construction that seemed to go on 24/7.
Walking in and shutting the door behind him, Kyle unbuttoned the starched white shirt, marked "SECURITY" across the back, and hung it over the nearest chair. He took off his belt, laying it on the table, and took the gun out of its' holster. He slipped out of his pants, and stepped over to the bedside table, slipped the gun in the drawer, and collapsed on the bed, in his white tank top and boxers. He put his arms behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling.
How had his life come to this? He had been on his way to the top, and suddenly, he was here. He had been on the road to basking in the lap of luxury. Now, he was wallowing on the knees of nothing. And it was the most degrading thing he had ever imagined.
Being an only child, Kyle had worked all his life for his father's approval. All he had wanted to hear was for his father to tell him that he was proud of him. That he loved him. That he approved of his son. But not once did he hear it. He was sure his father loved him, he had just desperately wanted to hear it.
Kyle's mother died shortly after giving birth. Kyle suspected that somewhere deep down, his father had resented him for that. And that was the reason he had never said that he loved his son. Regardless, Kyle spent his childhood and teen years fighting for one thing only. His father's love.
He got straight A's in school. It didn't work. He joined after school clubs and became an academic scholar. That didn't work. He became the star quarterback and was in the running for a full sports scholarship. Still, that didn't work. Desperate, Kyle did the only thing he could think of. He followed in his father's footsteps and joined the Police Academy. Surprisingly, he found himself good at it. After a series of his arrests led to the biggest drug bust in the police departments history, Kyle Valenti was on his way up. He was promoted to detective, and soon gained a reputation for being one of the best.
Two years after joining law-enforcement, Kyle got the call that changed his life. He was asked to apply for a job with the CIA. Kyle applied, and was accepted.
He went back home to the beaches of Virginia to tell his family the news. His father, had recently married, and Kyle couldn't have been more excited. His father had been dating Amy for the last three years. They had met at a Law Enforcement Seminar where Amy had been in charge of the catering. They had struck up a relationship, and despite the fact that the two lived in different states, their long distance love was successful. Kyle got along well with Amy's daughter, Maria, who was only a few years younger than he. It was the closest thing to a sibling he had ever had. When his father married Amy, she moved to Virginia, but Maria had stayed behind, traveling with some supermodel as her personal photographer. They saw each other on holidays, and talked often on the phone.
It was the day he told his father how far in life he'd gone. That was the day he heard the words he'd waited his whole life to hear. That was the day his father told him he was proud.
Kyle had been one of the best and brightest the CIA had ever encountered. He was smart, athletic, and a fast learner. In only a year, he had worked his way up to where most CIA agents spent at least two years trying to get to. Working on International cases.
Kyle's chance in the spotlight came when he was assigned to work the Victor De Marco case. Victor De Marco was one of Europe's most powerful Mafia bosses. When it got too dangerous for him to stay in Europe, he came to America. He had every resource you could name at his beck and call. The names on his payroll ranged from restaurant workers to police officers, to government officials. And Kyle had been assigned to help get hard evidence.
The agency was doing a raid on the home, and Kyle was overly excited. Despite having been an agent for a little over a year, he had never been the team leader in a raid. They went into the De Marco home, and Kyle issued orders to his team. As the team separated, Kyle headed off to search the part of the house he had assigned himself. The house had been pitch dark, and they had encountered not one person on their way in. The De Marco's had a reputation for being ruthless and dangerous, and somewhere deep down, a part of him was afraid. He hadn't realized he was scared until he encountered a shadow in the dining area of the home.
Making his presence known, and not receiving a rseponse, Kyle was going to move closer when he saw the shadow raise a gun at him. Rounding the corner and firing, Kyle's world came crashing down when he saw his victim. It was a small child, a young boy, a green watergun clasped between his blood covered hands, the blue pajamas he wore already soaking through with his blood. The child had thought someone was breaking in, and had wanted to protect his mommy and daddy.
Kyle was investigated and suspended for the boy's death. The case had not been publicized, to salvage the CIA's image. The De Marco's were able to stay clear of jail time once again due to the wrongful death of their only child. Kyle was discharged from the CIA for his part in the fiasco.
The incident had shattered something in Kyle. Not a day went by he didn't feel the guilt that taking a young boy's life caused. He would lie awake at night and play the scene over and over in his head. He had asked a million what if's, and the conclusion was always the same. He had killed an innocent little boy. And he had been wrong.
The incident had gone on his record, and because of it, he had been unable to be hired at any job he had applied for. e incident had shattered something in Kyle. Not a day went by he didn't feel the guilt that taking a young boy's life caused. He would lie awake at night and play the scene over and over in his head. He had asked a million what if's, and the conclusion was always the same. He had killed an innocent little boy. And he had been wrong.
Except as a security guard for North Hills Mall, just outside of Times Square. Fearing that his father would stop loving him if he knew, Kyle kept up the facade. For the last two years, his family still thought he worked for the CIA. And for the last two years, his father had told him countless times how proud of him he was.
His only friends were the girls that sometimes came to his room with him. Girls that he met at the mall, on the subway, in the bars. They were the only people ever allowed into the world of Kyle Valenti, mall security guard. He was too ashamed to let anyone else close.
Most nights, he would lay in bed, listening to the sounds of life going on below his window, and thing about what might have been.
On this particular night, Kyle was depressed more than usual. It had been two years, to the night, that he had killed little Erik De Marco. He was laying in bed, and had fallen asleep. He was tossing and turning in his sleep, the images of that fateful night flowing through his mind like a bad B-movie. He was tossing and turning, murmuring in his sleep when he was awakened by his cell phone.
It's me. I need your help.
Kyle sat up, groaning, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"What kind of help. Are you in trouble, Maria?"
Not me, Kyle. Isabel.
"Isabel? Who's that your dog or something?"
Kyle. Isabel. Isabel Evans. You do know who she is, right?
"Isabel Evans. As in the supermodel? Her face is plastered all over the bus I ride to work everymorning."
You have to ride a bus to work for the CIA?
"Yeah," Kyle said, thinking quickly. "I'm kind of undercover right now."
Well, get out of it.
"Maria! I can't just get out of it. What's wrong?"
It's Isabel. She has a stalker. It's got us all spooked. And tonight was really scary.
"Maria, the CIA doesn't handle stalkers."
I know. But I'm scared Kyle. We need someone. Someone good. We need a bodyguard.
Kyle laughed sarcastically. "Yeah right. Me. A bodyguard. For a rich stuck up supermodel like Isabel Evans. Call someone else, Maria."
Kyle closed his eyes when he heard Maria whimper. He knew she was going to cry. Kyle, please?
"No Maria. I'm hanging up now."
Fine, Kyle, Maria sobbed. When something happens to me, you can have my CD collection, okay? And my car.
"Maria don't be rediculous. Nothing is going to happen to you."
Maria turned on the waterworks, and made her voice shakier than she appeared. It will Kyle. This guy already got past Michael's security. I'm scared Kyle. Please. Just for a little while. Maybe you can help.
Kyle took a deep breath. What was he gonna do? Give up traveling with a rich trendsetting crew like the one that went with Isabel Evans for 5 days a week of keeping kids out of the fountains and teenagers from lifting jeans and t shirts? Isabel Evans was a stuck up rich girl who thought that because she was famous, the world owed her something. Just the kind of girl he spent his high school career avoiding. But being a bodyguard for her entourage might not be so bad. After all, it would give him some time to spend with Maria, and some of the friends he hadn't seen since the last time he and his dad had visited Amy and Maria before the wedding. Suddenly, being a bodyguard didn't sound so bad.
"Fine, Maria. I'll come. For a little while. That's it. But you keep that little snobby model girl out of my hair, or I swear I'll tell her exactly how I feel about her holier than thou attitude."
Great, Kyle. I'll call you back with details. Love you, bye.
Kyle glared at the phone as he heard Maria's voice soften. She had gotten him again. She had performed for him to get what she wanted, and she had won. But it was okay. He was gonna get a vacation out of it. Traveling to all the latest hot spots with some of his friends. North Hills Mall would have to wait.
After all. How harmless can one little stalker be?
[ edited 2 time(s), last at 23-Jun-2002 12:30:20 AM ]
|posted on 23-Jun-2002 3:51:14 AM by ISLANDGIRL5|
|Kyle sighed as the plane coasted to a stop outside the airport in Miami. Maria had booked his plane ticket from her end, and all he had to do was go the airport and flash some ID, then board the plane. Everything had been bought for him.|
When he had recieved Maria's call last night, he was surprised to say the least. He hadn't expected her to ask him to come on the road with them, but he had been flattered to hear she thought he was capable of protecting them. He had refused at first, but realizing how much he could use a vacation, he accepted her offer and agreed to come on the road with them for a while.
Kyle squinted his eyes to try to look past the glare of the sun reflecting off the terminal windows. He was sure that Maria was in there somewhere, and if he knew her at all, she had brought an entourage. He was sure Maria's best friend, Liz was with her. Maria had grown up with Liz in North Carolina, and she has somewhat become a second sister to him, He knew she was married now, and had yet to meet the Mr. He was also pretty sure that Michael was with her. Kyle had yet to meet the soon to be husband of his step-sister, but he practically knew the guy's whole life story. He was all Maria ever talked about on her phone calls.
Stepping off the plane, Kyle was taken aback by the amount of people in the airport. He knew that there had been some kind of big fashion show which is why the Evans crew was in town, but he had no idea that the place would be so crowded. He stepped up onto his tiptoes and attempted to look over the heads of the people that seemed to be pushing their way in all four directions and then some. Kyle suddenly remembered why he hated airports. Sighing in frustration, Kyle plopped down in the first empty seat her found. He had been walking for ten minutes since he got off the plane, and he had yet to see Maria or Liz. If they were there, then they would have to find him.
After sitting there for ten more minutes, Kyle was slightly amused at the small TV hooked to the arm of the chair. It said to deposit 25 cents to watch, and having nothing to lose, Kyle was digging in his pockets for a quarter, when he heard a commotion and stood up.
He heard a series of short beeps, then a high pitched voice. "Move it people! I have places to go and food to photograph, so out of my way!"
Kyle groaned. He was right. Maria found him.
"C'mon, out of my way, I mean it! And watch those looks buddy! I don't like people who look meaner than me!"
Kyle stood on his tiptoes and saw the crowd parting a few feet in front of him. He groaned, but couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across his face. Over the crowd, he could see the top of a motorized golf cart headed his way. He could barely make out Maria's mop of blonde hair hanging out of the passenger side, bobbing from side to side as she hollered at people in her way.
When the cart finally came to a stop at his feet, Kyle had a full fledged grin across his face.
"Well, well, if it isn't Hurricane Deluca and her trusty sidekick," he said.
Maria jumped out of the cart and threw her arms around Kyle's neck. "Oh my goodness! We have been looking for you for like twenty minutes! This place is a mad house! Oh my goodness! Look at those arms, you are like a totally hottie now!"
"Thanks, I think," Kyle chuckled, hugging Maria back. "So, where's my soon to be step-brother-in-law?"
"Aww, he hats airports. He stays away from them when he doesn't actually have to be in one," maria said, stepping back.
"Hey, Kyle," Liz said. "And I am not her sidekick. She's mine!" Liz reached up and gave Kyle a hug.
"Yeah, well, It would probably be safer if you were the superhero," Kyle said, hugging Liz back.
"So, where's Mr. Liz? I've heard all about him, thought maybe he'd be here."
"Yeah, well, Mr. Liz's sister couldn't be left alone, so we left Max and Michael back at the hotel with her."
"Ahh, yes. Guess that means I'll have to wait to meet the famous Isabel Evans?" Kyle questioned.
"Don't worry. You're not missing much," Maria said.
"Maria!" Liz chided.
"What?" Maria said, shrugging her shoulders. "Ever since her love life fell apart, she's hasn't exactly been the most pleasant person. In fact, she's bordering on being the most bitter person I've ever met."
"She's having a hard time coping," Liz explained. "She's busy nursing a broken heart, but its tough when your ex is a famous model dating your worst rival."
"Ouch," Kyle said.
"Yeah, well, lets get out of this mob and into the limo outside. I'm gonna catch cooties from all these wierdos hanging around," Maria said, brushing off her shoulder where a teenager with his pants hanging down to his knees, and earrings in every hole and then some brushed past her.
"Watch it, buster," she hollered to his back.
"Still the same old Maria," Kyle said, climbing into the golf cart.
"And then some," Liz giggled.
"Kyle, this is Alex," Liz said, motioning to the man waiting for them at the limo. "He's our computer guy, and is also in charge of giving out press passes and stuff."
Kyle reached out to shake Alex's hand. "Hey man, how's it going?"
"Fine, thanks," Alex said. "How was your trip?"
"Great. But the reception was even better," Kyle said, motioning to the golf cart, where Maria was busy ordering an airport caddy to load Kyle's bags.
"Well, these are yours," Alex said, handing Kyle two large plastic cards, and silver beaded chains to put the around his neck. "You will need these to get anywhere near Isabel when one of us isn't around."
"Thanks," Kyle said. He leaned in closer to Alex. "Just between you and me, guy to guy. Is Isabel really as stuck up as she seems?"
Alex smiled. "Oh yeah. That and then some, at least since the fiasco with Grant."
"Grant as in Grant Sorrenson? The Calvin Klein guy?"
"The one and only. Personally responsible for turning our kind little Isabel into....well...the bitter, resentful, arrogant Isabel we all know now."
"Great," Kyle said.
"Yeah," Alex remarked. "She snaps off heads if you say anything to her. She makes demands and expects everyone to jump when she snaps. She criticizes and argues with everyone about anything. If we didn't all know what she's been through, we wouldn't take it, but she's having a hard time."
"That's what I hear," Kyle said.
"Kyle," Liz said, coming up to the limo. "Alex is like a godsend sometimes. He is like, the only sane person I know right now. I hope you haven't been filling his head full of your war stories."
"Nope," Kyle said. "I think it might be just the opposite.
Kyle and Alex chuckled when Liz looked at them, slightly confused.
"I think you and I are going to get along just fine," Alex said, hopping into the limo. Kyle, Liz and Maria weren't far behind.
"Are you sure we didn't go back to the airport?" Kyle asked.
"Yep. This is everyday life for anyone remotely close to Isabel.
Kyle couldn't help but be in awe. Everywhere he looked, he saw a reporter. Someone with a camera, waiting anxiously to catch a glimpse of the famous Isabel Evans. The hotel lobby was filled with people, alert and ready for the first sign of the famous supermodel.
Stepping out of the elvator, Kyle followed Maria, Liz and Kyle to the end of the hall where the Penthouse was. Pausing outside the door, Maria turned to Kyle.
"You ready to meet your charge?"
"Sure. Why not."
"Just remember," Liz said, stepping up to Kyle and patting him on the back. "Whatever she says, don't take it personally."
Maria opened the door, and Kyle followed her in the room. To meet Isabel.
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 23-Jun-2002 5:52:49 AM ]
|posted on 23-Jun-2002 5:54:29 AM by ISLANDGIRL5|
I am so silly. I checked my word file, and it was only there one time, so I have no idea what I did....Thanks for the speedy FB, though, and thanks for heads up on the double post.
|posted on 29-Jun-2002 2:13:46 AM by ISLANDGIRL5|
Kyle followed Maria into the room, and was taken aback by the sheer size of it. He had known that the moment he saw the crowd waiting outside for the famous Isabel Evans that this little trip of his was going to be an interesting experience. Now, standing here looking at the hotel ‘room', he knew it was going to be quite a nice interesting experience. This room alone was bigger than the motel room he had rented in NY. And this was only the sitting area.
"Hey! You guys are back," Max said walking over to Liz. He put one arm around Liz's waist, and kissed her lightly. Then he turned to Kyle and held his hand out. "You must be Kyle," he said.
"And you," Kyle said, taking his hand and shaking it, "must be Mr. Liz."
Max laughed, and raised an eyebrow at his wife. "Yeah, I think that's me, although I've never quite been called that before," he said.
"Liz told me once that she wouldn't change her name, that she would marry someone who would take her name."
Max looked at Liz and raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Liz said, shrugging her shoulders. "I was young and impressionable."
"And I was the one doing the impressing," Maria quipped.
"Then that explains it," Max said.
Kyle's attentions were drawn to the door to his far left as it opened and a man came in talking on a two way radio. He finished talking, clicked it off, and put it in his pocket.
"Michael, honey, come here," Maria said.
Kyle nodded. So this was Michael. He looked every bit the way Maria had described. Tall, unruly hair, and a permanent frown.
"Michael, smile," Maria said. "I want you to meet my brother. Michael, Kyle. Kyle, Michael," Maria said turning from one to the other.
"So," Kyle said. "Nice to finally meet the man who tamed the untameable," Kyle said, motioning to Maria.
Despite his sullen mood, Michael smiled. He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you," Michael said.
"Now," Alex said, stepping into the conversation. "For the hard part."
"Are we going to meet the famous Isabel now?" Kyle asked mockingly.
"Nope," Alex said. "You are. I don't want to be in there."
"Is it that bad?" Kyle asked.
"It will be soon. She doesn't even know she's getting a bodyguard."
Kyle was about to respond, when Liz grabbed one arm and Maria grabbed the other one.
"It'll be fine, Kyle," Maria said. " Just keep your helmet on and your insult–proof vest on. You should be just fine."
Stepping into the room Liz and Maria led him too, Kyle saw a flurry of activity in the far corner. There was a small, petite girl packing a bag and hurrying to leave the room.
"She works at the salon downstairs," Liz whispered. "She came to do Isabel's nails."
Kyle nodded. So that meant that the long slender leg he saw peeking out from behind the back of the chair he was facing belonged to the Princess herself. He chuckled, wondering if she was really even pretty in person. Most people aren't. But from what he had heard from people, he was expecting....Medusa. You know, glowing eyes, snakes for hair, venomous teeth and long, horrid fingernails.
"Isabel, I have someone for you to meet," Maria said.
Isabel turned around and Kyle almost choked. Pretty was an understatement. This girl was aboslutely gorgeous. Long slender legs, thin arms, tanned skin. She had long, soft, blonde hair and the most beautiful eyes. And her lips, her face, her..... Nope. No snakes in sight. ‘Oh please, Valenti,' Kyle thought. ‘You've seen beautiful girls before. Get a grip!'
"Fine. Give me the paper. You can have my autograph, then you leave," Isabel said.
Kyle cleared his throat, and Maria giggled.
"Isabel, this is Kyle. Kyle Valenti, my brother," Maria said. "Kyle, this is Isabel Evans. Your new charge."
"His what?" Isabel asked. Had she heard right? Did she say...charge? She held a hand in the air, as if to signify someone to stop.
‘Nope,' Kyle thought. ‘No horrid fingernails. Normal hair.'
"Isabel, Kyle is your new bodyguard."
Isabel scoffed. "Yeah, right."
"No, he is," Liz said. "He'll be your own personal bodyguard, and he's going on the road with us until...further notice."
"Max hired me a babysitter?" Isabel asked, her eyes flaring with anger.
"Isabel, don't go flying off the handle, we need someone extra, for just you. A personal bodyguard."
"I can take care of myself," she said, her hands on her hips. She turned to Kyle. "Mr. Valdez," she said. "You can go now. You won't be needed."
Isabel's eyes flew back to Kyle. "Excuse me?"
Liz and Maria stifled a giggle. Isabel hated it when people corrected her.
"Valenti. My name is Valenti." Kyle stared at the girl. What was it about her that had everyone on edge? He wasn't scared of her.
Isabel's eyes narrowed. "Whatever," she snapped. "You can leave."
"No, Isabel, he can't," Liz said. "We need someone who can be with you 24/7. At least until this stalker business is over. You need to be protected."
"And he," Isabel asked sarcastically, then motioned to Kyle. "Is supposed to protect me?"
"Well, with that attitude, I'm not sure why anyone would want to get you," Kyle snapped back.
Isabel turned and stared at Kyle, her eyes dripping with anger.
Kyle smiled triumphantly. Ha! He had shut her up. But she was definitely seething. And her eyes...maybe his image of Medusa with glowing evil eyes wasn't so far fetched after all.
"Are you always so rude?" Isabel asked.
"Are you always so bitter?" Kyle asked without missing a beat.
Isabel gulped in some air and stared at Kyle unbelievingly. He was....talking back to her! What gave him the right? Who did he think he was? Isabel mental stepped back and looked at Kyle. He was tall, with dark hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was built quite nicely, and actually, may have been half decent.....If he hadn't been so unbearably rude. The way he was smirking at her made her even angrier.
"Oh," Isabel huffed. "He is not being my personal anything," Isabel said. "You put him on a plane right back to wherever he came from!"
"Isabel, calm down," Maria said. She looked at Kyle and grinned. He was glaring right back at Isabel. . It had been a while since anyone had talked back to Isabel. They had all tried to be sympathetic of her situation with Grant, and Kyle had been the first to step up to her. If he could make Isabel shut up as quickly as he had a minute ago, then he was definitely the man for the job. They needed someone who wouldn't back down.
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Isabel said, picking up a tray filled with bottles of something and flinging it across the room.
Well, she's got spunk, Kyle thought, as he sidestepped in the opposite direction to avoid being hit by flying perfume.
"Isabell, think rationally," Liz said. "We don't have enough security to keep someone with you twenty four hours a day. We needed someone who is capable of protecting you."
"We cant take a chance that the stalker might try something dangerous," Maria said.
"Fine," Isabel said icily. "What if the stalker has a gun? What if he tries to shoot me?"
"Kyle works for the CIA, Isabel. He can handle a measly gun."
"Who cares?" Isabel asked. "You get me good bodyguard or none at all. He's so.....small," Isabel said. Kyle turned to defend himself, but Isabel went on. "You don't see other stars with little bodyguards do you?"
"Isabel we needed someone on short notice. Kyle was available."
"I'm quite capable of doing this," Kyle said flatly.
"Oh yeah? Well, what if my stalker is a big, huge, burly man who benchpresses boys like you for fun? Huh? What then? What if we get attacked? What if he tries to kidnap me? What then?"
"Don't worry," Kyle said smiling sweetly. "He'll bring you back."
"Aaaaaaagh!!!" Isabel screamed, throwing another perfume bottle at Kyle, missing by an inch. She turned and stomped into a door opposite Kyle, and turned at the last minute. "I want to see my brother. NOW!" she hollered, slamming the door behind her as all the pictures on the wall rattled.
"Well," Maria said, turning to Kyle and Liz. "That went well."
|posted on 26-Jul-2002 5:05:26 AM by ISLANDGIRL5|
|For MariaG, BlondeDramaQueen, and Roswellluver....|
Sorry it took so long. I just kept forgetting about this fic. But I promise to be better from now on.
Maria sighed, and walked over to Max, plopping down on his lap, evoking a very surprised look from him.
Suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Looking over his shoulder, she winked at Liz, who had so suppress a giggle. She had known Maria long enough to know she was about to make a smart comment that would no doubt leave her laughing anyway.
"Maria," Max said, a bit confused.
"Max. I love you. Please don't go in there. If you do, then she'll do something to you. And you have to hold my ring at the wedding!" Maria said, faking tears.
At hearing this, Max couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't' worry, Maria. If I need help, I'll call for it."
Maria giggled as Liz burst out laughing. "Well, then. If she swings, duck. If your face is messed up, I won't let you be in the wedding anyway. It would sooo mess up my photographs!"
"Maria," Michael said. "Don't you have some food to photograph, or something?"
Maria jumped up and snapped her fingers. "I almost forgot! I'm doing a shoot for the new McDonald's sandwich!" Rushing around the room, she grabbed her purse, her camera bag, and her organizer. "Kyle, wanna come?"
Kyle shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"Be back soon," Liz said. "Isabel has an interview in a couple hours, and as her new bodyguard, you have to go with her."
"I'll be here," Kyle said. "But when it's time, who's gonna protect me from her?"
"You're a big boy, Valenti," Liz said. "I'm sure you can protect yourself!"
"Well, I guess I need to go see what my sister wants," Max said.
"She wants to rant and rave about how you had to get her a bodyguard. She's furious!" Liz told her husband.
Max kissed Liz on the cheek on his way by. "If I scream, call the Police!" Max said.
Liz laughed, and threw an apple out of the fruit bowl at him.
"What in the world were you thinking?" Isabel screamed as soon as Max entered her room.
"Only of your safety, Isabel."
"I don't need a babysitter, Max!"
"Of course not. But you do need someone who can be there. All the time. Just in case."
"I don't need anyone. Especially someone like him. He-he–he's unacceptable!"
"He's just what we need, Iz. He's a trained professional. And he can help us."
"I am a big girl. I can take care of myself."
"Like you did at the Versace show?"
A shadow of fear flicked across Isabel's eyes before she could hide it. Until then, it had only been letters. The doll she had opened that night had been dressed exactly like her, had a hairstyle just like hers, and had even been splashed with her favorite perfume. And the thought that someone knew her that well that could hurt her and scared the crap out of her. It was that night she had realized she wasn't safe.
"But what about you and Michael? You guys can watch me, right?"
"We can, Isabel," Max said. "But we can't watch you like we need to be watched. I have things to do, as your manager, and Michael is busy. He has to secure buildings, oversee the rest of the security team. We can't be with you 24/7."
"No but's Isabel. This is the way it has to be."
"Well, I want someone else. I don't like him."
Max smiled at his sister. "We don't have anyone else, Isabel."
"Well, then I refuse. I refuse to let him be my bodyguard."
"The decision isn't yours, Isabel."
"Of course it is."
"No, it's not. This time I am putting my foot down. Your safety comes first. And Kyle can help us make sure it stays that way. How about we make a deal?"
"What kind of deal?" Isabel asked, her eyebrow raised in question.
"If you agree to let Kyle be your bodyguard, then I promise. After this stalker thing is over, he's gone. You can interview and pick your next bodyguard."
"But Max, that man is unbearable!"
"You aren't exactly the nicest person to be around anymore either, Isabel. Not since Grant, anway."
"How dare you say that to me! You have no idea what I have been through!" Isabel said angrily.
"Isabel, I didn't mean-"
"Leave, Max. I want you to leave right now."
"Isabel, wait just a minute."
"I'll agree to your silly little bodyguard idea," Isabel said, stomping over to the door and throwing it open. "But I want you out of my room. Now, Max!"
Max sighed, and got up, walking past Isabel. He grimaced as he heard the door slam shut behind him.
"Tada!" Maria said, holding up a sandwich in front of Kyle. "What do you think?"
"What is that?" Kyle asked.
"It's the McCharcoal!"
"That sounds like something you take for diarhea!" Kyle remarked.
"Well, I don't care what it sounds like. How does it look? I have to have these pictures in a week. It's my job to make it look edible. Not sound edible."
"Well, then," Kyle said taking the sandwich plate from Maria and turning it so he could look at it from all directions. "It looks edible to me," he remarked.
"Good. Two blackened chicken breasts, lettuce, tomato, onion, and a special ranch sauce. As long as it looks like the best chicken sandwich you'll ever taste, I don't care what they call it."
"So this is what you do when you aren't filming the famous Isabel?"
"This is what I do. And I wish you'd stop referring to her like she's some kind of monster. Deep down, she's not. She just doesn't know how to deal with her pain."
"I find it hard to believe that the person I met is even capable of feeling pain.
"Okay. Just be quiet, now. I hate for people to talk while I work."
"I mean, really. Who does she think she is? With her whole ‘holier than thou' attitude," Kyle said, waving his hands in the air to emphasize his point.
"Kyle, I need quiet!"
"It makes me wonder," Kyle said, ignoring Maria's comments. "If this stalker guy knows what he's getting himself into."
"Kyle! If you don't shut up, you are going to be wearing this McCharcoal sandwich, photos or not!" Maria snapped. "And I'm going go be extremely angry if I have to make another sandwich!"
"Fine, fine," Kyle said, snapping back to reality. "I'll hush."
"Thank you," Maria said, as she poised her camera, ready to snap her first picture.
"But I still think she's a witch," Kyle said. Right before Maria's McCharcoal sandwich hit him smack in the middle of his forehead.
|posted on 8-Aug-2002 10:50:59 AM by ISLANDGIRL5|
|For BlondeDramaQueen and MoonLily|
"You are absolutely stunning, Isabel. No wonder you've captured so many hearts."
"There's only one heart I'm interested in capturing, Grant."
He smiled, and reached up to graze her cheek. She shivered, feeling the electric jolt that simply his touch caused go sizzling through her body.
"And would it belong to anyone I know?" he asked, smiling coyly at her.
"I believe it does, Mr. Sorenson. For you know yourself well, do you not?" she asked. Waiting for his answer, she reached up and took his hand in her own.
"Well then, Ms. Evans. This is one heart you don't have to worry about. It's already yours."
Isabel smiled, then, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. It was a bright, captivating, smile. Full of hope and promise. The kind of smile seen only on the face of a girl in love. And a girl in love Isabel Evans certainly was. Grant Sorenson had breezed into her life and swept her off her feet.
Isabel closed her eyes, and let the slight breeze ruffle her hair. She opened them when she heard Grant suck in a breath.
"Isabel," he whispered hoarsely.
Then his lips were on hers. They attacked her with a hunger. A passion. A need. To hold her. To feel her. To just touch her. He heard her whimper when his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her as close to him as she could get. Head to toe, they were pressed against one another, feelings of better things yet to come flying through the air around them.
He pulled back for air, and reached up, letting his hands drift to the diamond clip holding up her loose silky tresses. He unclipped it, and as her hair fell to cover her shoulders, she saw his eyes darken.
He kissed her again, then pulled away. Suddenly, they were'nt alone. And he wasn't in her arms.
She turned, and felt the dagger in her heart. There he was, standing arm in arm with Tess Harding. They were laughing at her, pointing, sneering.
Tess walked up to Isabel, and pointed at her. "He's mine now! You couldn't keep him. He never loved you. It was always me. Me, me, me!" Tess threw her head back and laughed out loud. It was an evil laugh, cruel, and harsh. It echoed in her ears, and Isabel saw Grant join in as she slid to the floor with her hands around her face.
Isabel bolted up, and stared into the darkness. Fumbling, she reached over to her bedside table. Finding the chain for the lamp, she pulled on it, and the room was bathed with a soft yellow glow. She reached for the glass of water, and picked it up, then sat it back down quickly. Her hands were shaking so much that the water sloshed out of the top of the glass and fell in drops to her night stand. She reached up to her face, and wasn't surprised to feel the tears coursing down her cheeks. Even in her sleep, she still cried for him.
The nightmare was a recurring one. It started out happy, blissful, passionate. Just as her relationship with Grant had begun. But it always ended the same way. With hatred, disgust, contempt. With Tess laughing in her face. Just as her relationship with Grant had ended. And each and everytime she had it, Isabel's heart broke just a little more. She was beginning to think she'd never get over Grant Sorenson. Was this how her life was destined to be? Was she going to spend the rest of her days pining over the only man she'd ever loved? The only man who'd ever broken her heart?
And now, on top of that, she had to deal with a psycho stalker who was dangerous to say the least. He had already managed to slip past security once. And he'd left her a doll that had chilled her to the bone. And it was because of that danger that her brother had hired that arrogant excuse for a man that he had said was her bodyguard. A broken heart, shattered by the one man who swore he'd never hurt her. A psycho stalker intent on doing who knows what to her. And a bodyguard who had made her hate him with the very first words he'd ever said to her. But somehow, the pain of a love lost outweighed everything else she was feeling. And the pain hadn't lessened one bit since the day Grant Sorenson had walked out on her. Could life get any worse?
Isabel choked back a sob, and reached out to pull the chain on the lamp. Once again, she was engulfed in darkness, and she let the tears come. She lay back down and the bed, and curled her knees up to her chest. And Isabel Evans cried herself to sleep.
Kyle thought about the day's events.
Meeting Isabel had been everything he had expected it to be. Heck, Isabel had been everything he'd thought she'd be. Rude. Arrogant. Bitter. Resentful. And judging by the way she'd glared at him, and twisted her face into an angry expression, she was definitely not human. Isabel walked with her nose in the air, and it was obvious in everything she did or said. She was living the high life, and she knew it. But one of these days, Isabel's holier than thou attitude was going to catch up with her and smack her right in the face. She had no idea just how hard it was going to hurt.
That's what money does to people. Gives them a false sense of power. Security. Strength. It makes them think the world owes them something. That you owe them something. People as rich as Isabel think they can't be touched. They step on the small people. They tend to forget that they were small once, too.
He wasn't exactly thrilled about meeting her again. But it was part of his job. He'd done things before he hadn't liked when it came to work. He'd worked with people he would have rather not worked with. He'd had to befriend people he'd rather have never known at all. And he'd definitely had to have been in situations that he would have kept out of had they not been just part of the job. And he had definitely done things that he'd prefer to never think about again.
Like little Erik De Marco. But that was one face that was never far from his mind. One little boy that would forever be 5 years old. One small life that had been taken just because he was an innocent bystander in the world of drugs and money. Money that had blinded his parents into thinking that they held the power that made them invincible.
Somewhere in the middle of his thoughts, Kyle dozed off. But now, waking up suddenly, he lay awake, listening intently for the sound that woke him up out of a sound sleep. Hearing a muffled noise, he raised up intently, and eased open the door. He had been given the room next to Isabel's room, so that he could reach her if anything happened.
Tiptoeing into the hallway, Kyle paused and cocked his head to the side, listening intently. There it was again. Using the tiny night light plugged into the wall socket for guidance, he made his way to the next door, knowing the sound had come from Isabel's room.
He reached out and put his ear to the door, trying to decide what kind of noise it was that he had heard come from inside. He frowned, thinking that maybe the stalker had gotten inside. But that would have been impossible. There had been security posted outside the elevator as well as outside the door to the suite. And Michael was sleeping outside on the couch, Liz and Maria in the first room, and Max in the room on the other side of Isabel. If he had made it this far without being seen, then he was either invisible, or magic. And Kyle doubted it was either of the two.
He heard the sound again, and put his hand on the doorknob, testing it easily. It was unlocked. He turned the doorknob, and started to ease the door open, pausing only when he had thought he heard it squeak. Once again, he pushed on the door and opened it wide enough to slip his head into the dark room.
Giving his eyes a second to adjust to the pitch black inside, he squinted, and looked to the other side of the room. The balcony door was shut, the sheer curtains hanging motionless blocking most of the moonlight from making it's way into the bedroom.
Looking towards the bed, he could barely make out Isabel's form laying in the center of the massive structure. What he heard couldn't have surprised him more.
Isabel was crying. He could make out her body, curled into a tight ball, underneath the blanket, even though it was nearly 80 degrees outside. And he could hear her sob. Faintly, but sobs none the less.
Feeling like an intruder, Kyle silently shut the door and eased his way back into his room. He shut the door and lay back down in bed.
What in the world would she have to cry about? She was the most famous supermodel in the country, but well known in every country that had a fashion industry. One of the richest people in the world. Why in the world would she be in bed late at night, crying to herself?
A single thought flashed through Kyle's mind as he turned on his side and closed his eyes. What do you know? Looks like the famous Isabel Evans was human after all.