Zen And The Art Of Self-Defense Chapter 1 free porn video

Zen and The Art of Self Defense Introduction This is another of my non-magical, non sci-fi, non-chemical(unproven or exotic) transformations. Just a lingering suspicion on the part of our hero/ine and the observant eye of an interested party. This time, no force is being used either, but some interesting encounters occur. Again, how people interact with others and face up to their own problems, their inner demons, that dark place they are often afraid to admit to, are the themes that interest me the most. This will be around nine chapters, sort of themed, and serialized. Enjoy. Part 1 - Assume Stance Chapter 1 - Body Guarded "Hey Chris, how ya doin'?" asks Avery the guy who manages the fitness place and gym where I teach some classes on self-defense and martial arts as I come in to work out. He's about 5'11" mid-thirties, married with a kid. It's a cool day, but sunny, actually nice for November in southern California, so I'm in a decent mood, "Not bad, getting' by, today anyway, you doin' ok?" I stop by the counter as I usually chat with him about random things. He likes it and I like him. "Eh...but I got a surprise for you that you'll never guess. Maybe do a lot more for you then getting by." "I give; I'm not in the guessing mood, so tell me." He is wearing a big smile on his face. "Well, I think I got a real job lined up for you." "What? You've got to be kidding, right?" I had been looking for steady work since I arrived in LA about nine months earlier, but this teaching gig was all I could find. My savings stash has been quickly disappearing as everything is a lot more expensive than I had imagined and decent jobs are harder to find. I had lucked into this part time job when Avery saw how good I was in some of the amateur competitions and demonstrations he stages. Besides the pay from the classes, Avery had given me a free membership, because the classes had brought in some new members. I appreciate friends like that, and we get along well together. "Nope, the real deal, I'm pretty sure." I give him a hard look. "What do you mean 'pretty sure'? What kind of job is it? And where?" "Well, that's just it, I'm not quite sure, but whoever it is, I think they really want you." I ponder what he's saying and reply, "Who is this whoever? Sounds sort of fishy to me." He shakes his head and tries to get a little serious, "I don't think so. Look, I got this call from this guy I know at this management agency. I know they're legit because I've dealt with them before." "Management agency?" "Yeah, occasionally I get some people in the business coming in here and some, they've signed with this place." I shake my head a little. "You mean, wannabees. I've never really seen any big names, here. Extras if anything." "Ok, Chris, this is between you and me, capiche?" We both look around, I'm not sure why, we're not exactly in a movie. "Sure." "I've had a few close to B list actors in here in private classes. I can't tell you their names as I had to sign secrecy waivers. You know, they don't want to be mobbed." "Mobbed? B? Here?" I have a hard time believing that, "Like who? Give me a description or something they've been in." He looks around furtively, then quietly says, "That guy, Sam, you know, about the 5th lead in that costume almost blockbuster last year." "He's been here?" "Hey, shhhhh! Oh, and I think the girl who they're saying could be the next Julia Roberts." "Jillian Thomas? She was here?" She had her surprise break-out romantic comedy earlier in the year, and there's some talk going on. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure, and I can't remember if she used that name when she was here and it's been a few years as she had just arrived in town. You know, they come and go real quick sometimes, so I don't pay that much attention. I just remember this cute gal. Anyway, they do know about this place." "Oh," I say looking around. "Ah, now I get it, seeing this place, I know now exactly why they called and didn't come in." "Cut the comedy, okay? This is on the level." He's right, I should take this a little more seriously. "Yeah, ok, so finish, all right." "Well, I got this call earlier today and it seems someone wants you for a job, maybe to be on somebody's staff or something, training someone, maybe. This could be big." "Yeah and it could be a scam too." "Ok, bigshot, what exactly do you have that someone could scam? Or would want to?" "Look, I've worked hard to get to the level I'm at. Teaching beginners is okay for the money, but if someone wants more, they'd better be willing to pay me." "Maybe you want I should tell them to shove off?" I sigh, facing the reality of my current status...and cash flow, "No, you're right. I'm sorry. It's just been a downer for me so far, except for you, of course. I can't believe my luck may be changing." "Okay, then. I'll call them back and say you're interested. They said they'd tell me when and where they'll send a car." "A car? Wow! Um, but why you? Can't I talk to them first?" "I'll be honest. They wanted to know what I know and think about you...and your background." He gets a little tic of concern around the corners of his mouth. I know what that means. Looking at Avery in a little shock because I sort of asked him not to tell, I ask, "You told them?" "I wasn't going to lie. They seemed to know a little already. I figured they'd find out eventually everything if they didn't already know and finding out later may have hurt your chances." "And they still want me?" "Look Chris, you're good, really good. Maybe the best I've seen. Of course, with your decision, nobody else will ever know, but that's what you want and I've always respected you for it. And I told them that." "Thanks. It's just that...." "We both know you would kick ass if you ever entered the serious competitions out here, you're that good. It's not your fault what happened to that guy back in Ohio. You all signed the waivers. I've read them and they covered everything that happened." I look down at the floor and remember all too well before I glance back up at Avery. "Yeah, but I still put that guy in the hospital and I've got to live with the fact he may never recover." "It's not your fault. I told him that, and he says they're still interested. I'll call him back in a bit, and let you know. So stick around." "In a bit? Why not now?" "He told me exactly when to call back. I'm not going to muck this up for you. Oh, and don't go tellin' anyone, at least not yet. This secrecy stuff and an' all that, ok?" "Okay. Hey, thanks Avery. I appreciate it." He smiles and nods, "If this works out, it could lead to a lot more, you know. Just promise me that you'll mention this place when you become trainer to the stars, okay?" "Yep, if this works out, I'll owe you big time." Trainer to the stars, though? I doubt it, but no reason ruining it for Avery. He's too good of a friend. "Good, so hang around, I'll let you know as soon as I do." "Great," and I head back to the gym area. I am now really hoping this turns into something even if it's just a private lesson or two. Maybe a class for people at that agency. Could be anything. Could be that Sam guy, could be that Jillian Thomas. I'd sure like to teach her some moves. Well, um, hmmm, maybe, I think, as I sigh. Okay, don't wanna go there! Anyway, probably just a small job or whatever, somewhere, but maybe I can meet some people. Get a chance. We'll see. At least I can put off entering those competitions. The money probably won't be that great, but with my classes here, it's better than getting dumped out on the street. And better than putting someone else in the hospital. Damn, got to quit thinking about that. Not my fault. Yeah, right. As I'm going through my routine, intense meditation, then loosening up, Kevin comes in, as I am sort of expecting. "Hey, Chris." "Hey, Kevin." He was a high school wrestler, heavyweight, a big guy. We became friends when I first showed up, and he has helped a lot, helped me find a decent (read - cheap) apartment, showed me the good (yeah, cheap) stores and restaurants. In return, after his initial classes, we've become training partners a little and I show him new moves. He's big but slow, where I'm about 5'9 (ok, ok, a big 5'8), low 140's, lithe, and very quick, which keeps our matches fairly competitive. He is starting with some of the low level competitions and is doing well. He's also trying to get into the business, had a couple of 'cattle' calls, but is still hoping for that break. And we occasionally hang out afterwards. After he warms up, we go through a number of moves and routines. Eventually after about an hour or so of hard work, we get to some real competition. Kevin is a great student, eager to learn, tries to take in everything, isn't upset when he can't do it right the first time, or second, or third. I like that in a person, knowing that something good takes a lot of skill and work and practice. Something it took me awhile to learn, with some much appreciated help. Right in the middle of it, with Kevin's strength and applied knowledge starting to have an effect, as well as my desire to let him work on some moves, Avery comes up. "Chris, Kevin, hate to break up your little love fest, but Chris here has an appointment." As Kevin relaxes a second, I use that to turn the tables on him, then I jump up. He realizes he made a mistake and just sheepishly grins. "You got me there, next time, though." I just smile at him and nod. "Chris, you gotta go now, they're going to have a car for you two blocks down by that convenience store, in ten minutes. Less now! You're to stand by the light pole by the street. And they said they would not wait." "What? What about my stuff, I'm not even presentable. What the hell?" I'm in warm-up pants and a dark colored t-shirt, which of course is just a 'tad' sweaty. "I'll take care of it all, keep it for you until you get back. You're supposed to wear sunglasses, so here's a pair, and you're to wear a red jacket, so here's one I had in the back." He shoves it at me as we're talking. "Closest to the color they asked for. Here's your watch, and wallet, you gotta go, now!" "Okay, okay, I'm off, see you guys later, I hope." I leave with them trailing behind to the front, as Kevin says, "Where's he off to?" "A job interview. Hope it goes well for him." "Good luck, Chris!" I nod back at them as I exit the front door, "Thanks." Ten freakin' minutes, I shake my head. Are these people nuts? Is this some kind of setup? Red is definitely not my color. Okay, okay. Gotta keep my cool, see what's goin' on. I briskly trot the two blocks checking my watch. I make the light pole at about 10 minutes and 2 seconds. Almost immediately a somewhat large dark sedan (the ones that look like mafia staff cars) pulls up and a door opens. This is out of a movie. A voice says, "Get in, quickly, please." I do and we pull away really fast as I try to keep my balance and look to sit down and a large youngish male, late 20's maybe, across from me says , "Sit there," pointing to a pull up seat facing him. "You are Chris Fielding?" "Yep," I pull of my sunglasses so I can get a better look at everything. "Can I see some ID?" I pull out my wallet. "Here," I say as I pass it to him. He quickly scans it and gives it back to me in a moment. "Thanks," I say as I look to buckle up and glance back at him. He couldn't care less about me, almost ignoring me now. Of course, behind his sunglasses who knows, really. I can see an earphone in one ear, and he's got a button somewhere because he speaks in 'yes' and 'no' only, with pauses. In the movies, the hero, me, would try to make some light hearted small talk, ease the moment, share a laugh. I can see this guy isn't having any of it. Probably a former NFL lineman or almost NFL or a failed pro wrestler. Unless he has a weapon and can handle it, I'm sure I can take him. I stay quiet as I guess that they don't want me knowing exactly where we're going. It will be difficult to retrace the steps, but in a year, I've gotten a little familiar with the LA landscape. About seven or eight minutes into the drive, I glance at him and say, "I think a car is following us." He turns around looking out the back window. "Hmmm," and gets on that earpiece again. Some words are passed, but he doesn't seem upset or anything. Mentions a number, must be a code word. We get on one of the freeways, and then a quick swerve off, cutting off a half dozen vehicles with about again as many blasting their horns at us, and we're back in city traffic. I don't see that car again. Maybe it was, maybe just a coincidence. I don't like coincidences. My companion has taken it all in stride, like this is very normal. After a little while we start going up a winding wooded road. The canyon, yep. Whoever it is, it's not a business office in Hollywood or west LA. More likely a private home. Or should I say, estate. We turn off eventually, and then stop for a moment, obviously a gate, as I see when we are past it, and then continue on for a moment and stop. The no-necker (or whatever he is) opens the door, looks at me and says, "Push the button by the front door, it will unlock. Go inside and wait. Someone will be there for you." "Thanks," I reply knowing it is a totally meaningless gesture and get out of the car, which then pulls away. I look up at the estate main house, lots of rooms, built in the 60's or 70's probably needs a lot of refurbishing. But still palatial. I go up to the door, open it as he says, and walk in to a huge entrance hall, with hallways going off and the obligatory spiral staircase. Not too much around, actually, sparsely furnished. Is someone cutting back or getting started? Hard to tell. I hear footsteps and a smallish young man (slightly smaller than me, and I'm not being insensitive, just factual), obviously of Asian ancestry comes up, smiling. A Japanese houseboy, I wonder? He says, "Welcome, may I take your jacket? I'll be showing you where to go." Hardly no accent. Hmmm. I look at him with as little emotion as possible as I size him up. "Sure," I nod and reply as I make a small calculated movement to start taking off my jacket. I notice he tenses immediately, and just as he is lunging at me, obviously expecting me to be tangled in my jacket arms, I step aside while whipping it off and pulling it over his head as I duck from his arms. In a moment, he is on the floor face down, with the jacket still over his head, his arms pinned behind him, and a leg fully immobilized with me on top on him. "Nice try, pal, but you need to work on your set up. You gave way too much away." "Okay, okay, I give. This was a just a test. You passed. Let me up, and I'll take you to the office." "No more funny business, got that?" I say as I pull the jacket back, let him up and whip the jacket into his arms to keep him off balance. "Yes, yes. No more. Please follow me." "First, my name is Chris, Chris Fielding," I say as I reach out my hand. "Oh, okay." Surprised he shakes back. Yes, I caught him off guard. Just like I want. I continually am reminded of what Master Wu said to me back when I was a skinny small kid in Ohio - 'Not everyone is your enemy, but also not everyone is your friend. Look at everyone and determine which way they may go, and what you will do about it.' Master Wu, how he got to north- western Ohio, I'll never know. When I met him he was older than that turtle in the panda movie, and smarter than that teacher in the karate movie. And what he ever saw in me, that I'll never know either. Well, he did say maybe I will when I see it in someone else, but that day would be a long way away. But I'm glad he did. I grew up as that clich? wimpy kid who gets his lunch money stolen constantly, if not continually beat up. It was a tough neighborhood, lots of blue collar working class people with kids with little future. Toledo is not exactly a hot spot, and just outside of it was even worse. I'd look at those power builder ads and would dream and dream, but I learned soon enough dreams are just that. And then this little taekwondo place opened up near where I lived, and it was like I found myself. Master Wu wasn't Korean, but he once explained that he understood and practiced all the arts, including karate and kung fu, even a little judo, aikido, and jiu-jitsu, some lesser known styles like shuai jiao, choi kwang do, and even t'ai chi ch'uan. Since taekwondo was the current rage, he was more than willing to embrace it, using it as an enticement to get a place going. It worked for me. I had been on the smallish side my whole growing up years. I have an older brother who was big, and athletic, and had lettered in 3 sports in high school. He would easily wrestle me to the ground for fun, although I sure didn't like it. And then one day, he was teasing me about the classes I was going to and thought he could easily put a hammer lock or something on me. I took him down. Of course, him being stronger, and me still just learning, he eventually overpowered me, but he looked at me differently after that. So did the kids in my school - where bullying was a recognized sport - when I showed them that I could easily take them down, immediately jumping back up to defend myself if I thought I was going to be gang tackled. I still got sneers and was called names, but I was left alone. None of that was the hardest part of my life, though. Our father died when I was young so I barely remembered him. I'd ask my brother about him, and his memories were pleasant which unfortunately made it even more difficult. Yet, it was my mother who caused the biggest problem. I could tell she loved us both, but there was a time when she was feeling a little despondent as we had been forced to move in with her parents, where she confided in me, that as much as she loved me, she had wished for a little girl, as she figured, rightly as it turned out, that she would have only two children. That was devastating to my undeveloped sense of worth, and I cried - to myself - a lot after that. Mostly because I felt I had let my mother down, some because of how unfair life was working out for me, as I could never tell her, or anyone, my darkest secret, one that would be the final letdown to my mother. A secret I spent my whole young life trying to overcome, and which I knew my burgeoning abilities in the martial arts were mostly just masking - at least I learned some control, which has served well so far. And a secret that has been with me, I know, since even before my father died. Going past the staircase on the main floor, I am led into this office with an older woman sitting at a desk - an uncluttered office, but obviously a busy place. She is attractive, probably really so in her younger days some years ago. She smiles at me briefly, a perfunctory smile, and then waives her hand to the houseboy, apparently dismissing him, saying, "Thank you, Kitae." As he goes, I say to him, "Hey, nice meeting you. You are good, just practice!" He sort of gives a slight nod and smile, and closes the door behind him. I turn back to the woman, "So are you going to jump me now?" She looks up a little surprised and says, "No, that's not my job; good afternoon, Mr. Fielding, thank you for coming, now if you will please take a seat, we can verify some information." "Hello, and it's nice to meet you, too," as I put out my hand, which she perfunctorily takes. I can tell that she's not about to get up. I continue, "Yes, of course. If you don't mind how I'm rather underdressed," taking a seat in a chair in front of her desk. "It's unimportant," she responds as she then goes through some forms in front of her, verifying my name (still the same), address (that crap of an apartment), date of birth (all of 25), all that stuff. And then she gets to the more interesting parts of my life. "Let me see here, you have an older brother, married, two children. A mother living back in Ohio. That's all your family, is that correct?" "You've got that right. I have some cousins somewhere, but I haven't seen them in years." "Fine, fine. Any serious relationships? Possible children?" "Uh, no, I'm pretty sure about that. Are you interested?" She gets a little flustered as I smile at her, that little grin some people have told me is appealing. I have seen girls, been close to some, some relationships that might have gotten a little serious, if I had known what I was doing, if I had really wanted it, if.if.if...so many ifs. "I'm married, thank you." "Doesn't hurt to ask. You do have attractive features." She shuffles the papers looking down quickly, "This is about you, not me, thank you. Keep your comments to yourself, please." "Okay, okay. Just trying to be nice." She continues with maybe a hint of a smile, "Part time job, minimal savings. A few friends." "Yes, yes, and yes. I like the simple life. I hope that's not a problem," irony can be a good friend sometimes. "That's not for me to determine. I'm just verifying your file." "Oh, okay. Everything's correct so far." "Fine, just a few more items. Let's see, driver's license but no car, no criminal record. Adequate credit rating and no debt. Correct?" "Yes," I sigh. I had to sell my car when money started getting tight, so I've resigned myself to taking public transportation and walking. Walking is good. Yeah, right. "High school graduate and almost two years of college, average grades. Came here to California less than a year ago. One or two more things. Would you like to mention that incident in Ohio?" I sigh even more as here it comes, "The competition and putting that man in the hospital?" "Yes, that's the one, unless there are others." I take a deep breath and reflect on a past moment that will never be forgotten and begin the litany which I have almost memorized, "No, no others. I was in the finals of a regional marital arts competition, mixed open division, medium contact, so most all recognized holds and movements are legal. My opponent put a move on me and I countered with a classic, but not very well known response. He was not expecting it and landed incorrectly on his neck. It paralyzed him and he has not recovered. The match was videotaped and the judges and other experts spent many hours reviewing the tape and cleared me of any improper actions. They declared my response and procedure to be acceptable. But he is still paralyzed and I feel I am at least partly to blame. And that's part of the reason I came out here, new start, new life, and all that." "Thank you, Mr. Fielding, for being candid. I see no reason to change anything here. Now one more item." I take a breath, nothing could be as bad as reliving that. But I am wrong. "Please understand that we need to know as much about any employee as possible, as your potential employer is constantly in the public eye and needs to be sure how to address any situation that may arise. We are very open minded here, so this is just a formality and the verification itself will not reflect negatively or positively on any subsequent offer. It is for your and the employer's protection. And this will not be passed to anyone except your potential employer without your approval." I wonder what she means, but I say, "Go ahead, I'm ready for anything." I thought! Anyway. "Are you transgendered?" "I...," my god, she has caught me off guard. What do I say? "I don't know." It's the best I can do. "You have cross-dressed in the past. Have you considered any future actions based on that? Sex change, or something similar?" Oh dear lord, they know. How? What do I say? This isn't good, not good at all. I can feel a flush coming to my face. How do I hide it? I must look guilty as sin. "I..I don't know. I don't think so, um, well, maybe, but, I haven't done it...all that much," my voice trails off as I'm getting confused, got to say something here, "I mean, I do, but...I'm just trying to get my life going as it is." And I am cursing myself for appearing so stupid. She glances up at me for a moment, and seems to understand there isn't much more that I can say. "Fine, thank you very much, Mr. Fielding." After a short very pregnant pause, "I think we're quite through here." She begins putting the papers back in the folder, very precise, not looking at me at all. Oh, goddamn, I've lost the job, why, oh why do I have these urges. How did they know. It's not fair. Life sucks. "So, do I wait for someone, I can find my way to the door. Will there be a ride waiting? I can take a taxi, I suppose." She looks at me rather funny. "I'm not sure what you're asking. But please wait here another moment. I have to make a call." Why is she keeping me in suspense? Probably telling someone the bad news. Maybe she has to get that houseboy to take me back, coordinate the ride. Oh well, I tried. She picks up a phone, punches a button, must be internal or something, "Hello...yes...yes...I understand, yes...no...yes...that will be fine." I can't tell her mood but somehow, it doesn't sound good. How much more embarrassment will I have to endure, I wonder. "Mr. Fielding, please come with me." She quickly stands and so do I as I feel our interview, and my life, are over. She heads to the door, folder in hand, which I barely notice in my dejected state. Oh, yeah, she's going to take me back to the front door. "Thank you." I try to be pleasant. She gives me that funny look again. "Oh, uh, you're welcome. Please follow me." We walk out the door and head back the way I came in. I'm feeling miserable, hating myself, hating my life. It's like I'm 8 again. We get to the main room...and to my shock, she looks at me as I sort of keep going towards the door and says, "This way please." She leads me up the stairs. I am now in major shock. Where are we going? What's going on here? Some more embarrassing moments in store for me? At the top of the stairs, we walk down about two doors and she opens the next door and says, "If you would, go in and sit down and wait. Someone will be with you in a moment. Please take this and set it on the table." She has given me the folder with all my information in it. I walk in and the room is luxuriously furnished, very attractive, much more so than the other rooms. It's like a sitting room off some bedroom. What is going on here? Why am I still here? I sit on one of two chairs, near a coffee style table, carefully placing the folder on the table. Even though the chair is quite comfortable, I am very uncomfortable as I'm not sure what is happening. I don't have a clue what's going on, and I don't like that feeling at all. I try to stay calm and consider all that has happened so far. It certainly felt like I was being dismissed from the job offer, from this estate. Who knows now? And then I hear footsteps coming from the next room. The door between the two is slightly ajar and I can detect movement. The door swings back, and if I wasn't in big time shock before, I now, totally and absolutely am. In walks this young woman who is positively gorgeous, far more so than anything I've seen in the tabloids, on the screen, in advertisements, on talk shows. She is stunningly beautiful, and like I'm sure with so many others, both male and female, I have immediately developed a crush for her. "Hello, Mr. Fielding." Her voice is even prettier live than on the screen. "I'm so glad you came." I stumble to get up, as she reaches out her hand. "Uh, uh, um, h.hello...." I blurt out as we shake hands. I'm actually touching a...Star. "Please, don't get up on my account. Please do sit. May I call you Christopher or is Chris acceptable?" I awkwardly sit down as she just glides into the chair next to mine. "Uh, Ch.Chris is, uh, just fine." "Good, Chris, and you can call me Jillian, as I can guess you know who I am." It's Jillian Thomas, like I had day-dreamed. My god, a dream of mine just came true. Can that really happen? What next? "Hi, um, Ms....um, Jillian. Please excuse my appearance." Again, I feel so awkwardly stupid right now. Regain control, please! "Oh, I hadn't even noticed, people here dress all sorts of different ways, don't worry." She glances at the folder. "Elizabeth says everything is in order. I'm so glad. So, we don't need that anymore." I get a little wide-eyed as I realize that what the woman was saying before was that they were satisfied with my life. Everything, they know everything and it's all right. I am so totally amazed at that. No, get focused, get focused. "First I really want to apologize for what we put you through." "Oh, um, no need..." Us just talking, her acknowledging me is more than enough, though I can't tell her that. "Yes, I need to because I want us to start off on the right foot. You just have to understand that whoever works for me, I really have to know everything, because everything I do is like under a microscope, especially so with anyone who works for me. The media somehow delves into every detail, and anything we don't immediately admit to, they make it sound so horrible. So it's best everything is out and open. I hope you understand." "Yes, Ms...Jillian, I do, completely. And as soon as I recover from the shocks I've had today, I'll be better able to convince you of that." Can guys swoon, I wonder? "Chris, you just being here, right now, with what we did to you, I'm convinced. Thank you." "Uh, you're welcome." And now this vision is thanking me? Oh, my! "So, would you like to know more about the job I'm offering you? You may still decide it's not for you." I smile that smile and she smiles back, and I think, lordy, lordy, is she beautiful, I take a breath and respond, "Yes, I'd like to know more." I'll take it, whatever it is, take out the trash, clean the fireplace. But right now, forcing my control to return, I'm thinking that it must be something to do with training, maybe her bodyguards, that guy at the door could use some pointers. Maybe she's interested. That would be something. "Chris, I'm looking for a personal body guard, and from what I know about you, and see here in front of me, I think you'd be perfect." My jaw would have dropped a foot, if I didn't keep close control. Thank goodness I'm not standing. Jelly comes quickly to mind. "Bodyguard, you say. Uh, don't you have at least one? The guy in the car?" "Thad? Yes, he's one. I have several, all good people. Dedicated, caring, protective. But I know what you're thinking - a bodyguard is some giant over muscled he-man, right?" "Well, um, yeahhh!" She laughs at that, which makes me turn a tad pink. "And you don't think you fit that profile." "Not that one, although I think I could take them if it came to that." "That's what I like about you, you've got courage. Oh, what's that old movie word? Moxie! You believe in your abilities. That's what I'm looking for." I just take a breath. I guess she thinks my opinion of myself is acceptable. It was sort of strong. Maybe I should tone it down...a bit. "My bodyguards, well, they are all great for what they were hired for, making sure in the public places I have to be, that I'm protected, the awards shows, the openings, major parties, on sets. There were some problems when I first became well known. I quickly discovered I needed them. Now, everyone looks at them and knows they're my bodyguards, and that intimidates a lot of the people who may cause problems. And the ones who aren't? Well, Thad and Aaron and Stefan know how to handle them, probably a lot like you can." "I'm sure they are good, so why do you feel you want - or need - me?" She pauses and looks pensive for a moment, as if thinking deeply about it, then smiles again and continues, "Because I want to be able to go places where they would be so out of place in, where their mere presence would cause people to notice me. I want to go shopping, window shopping even, hang out at some dive diner, maybe the beach on a nice day, a walk in the park, a movie even. I take those guys and it's impossible. But if I go in a slight disguise, with you...well, nobody would even notice, and if someone did try something, you could easily handle it, and we just move on. Do you understand?" "Sort of like that show, 'Hannah Montana,' right? But with a bodyguard close by." "Yes, I suppose in a way, but no way would Miley not be recognized, black wig or blond, she'd still be mobbed. I'd actually try to look normal. Well, normal for Rodeo Drive or any mall store around here, I guess." Thinking this over, it dawns on me, "So you want a companion of sorts, someone who looks normal like you're going to try to look, and then nobody really pays attention. Just a girl going to stores dragging her boyfriend along with. Like that?" She gives me an odd look, with a slight smile. "Yeah...like that." It's like she's musing over the words. I can tell she is sizing me up right now. I wonder what she thinks. She's really cool about all this. "Oh, wow, okay, I guess it could work. I certainly draw little if no attention when I'm shopping or out." "Exactly! I'm sure it will work, and you'll be absolutely perfect." "Uh, I don't know about that. Passable, at least, I suppose." Jillian giggles a little, really cute. "Okay, I like that, I'll take passable. Good word. Yes. Say you'll take the job. Please?" "Um, I...." "I can't believe myself, I haven't even told you the salary, or benefits or anything. I see why you're holding back. Okay, let's say $3000 a month to start with, minus taxes and stuff. You know, I'm set up as a business now." "I can guess!" Wow! A real salary! That's 36 grand. It isn't that much in Hollywood, but it's sure more than I've ever made. Staying where I am, I can maybe afford a car, some better clothes. "And for benefits, you'll move into the compound here, there's a number of bungalows in the back, and you'll be in one of them, so housing and basic meals are included, 1 week off a year, but we'll have to work that out around my schedule. Oh, and I have a doctor on call so you get medical, and really, Elizabeth can fill you in on the rest. So, will you say yes?" Oh my, that salary is almost pure profit, hardly any expenses. Wow! No, stop! Control, control! "Well, I do have that apartment and lease." "Don't worry about that, you can be out of it tomorrow." "And I have those classes at the gym and fitness place." "I think you're almost finished with the current ones, right? I'm sure Avery - it's still Avery, yes? - he'll understand, so you can finish them as you're starting here." "When do you want me to start?" "Is tomorrow acceptable?" Jillian has gently reached for my hands and slowly starts holding them as she bats her eyes at me. I smile at that, but say, "You don't have to flirt with me to get me to say yes, you know." She giggles again. "I know, but you're so cute, don't even think you aren't, and anyway, I just like doing it." Looking into her eyes, watching her movements, her reactions, she seems honest and trustworthy. Yes, appearances can be deceiving, but there's something more there. I just can't quite get around it. She certainly knows a lot about me. And we haven't even come close to mentioning my little desire...or did we? She's good, really good, I'm thinking. "Okay, Jillian, you've convinced me. Yes, I accept. Of course, I hate leaving Avery like this." "Thank you! I'm so glad you've said yes, Chris. I think this will really work out. And I'm not expecting you to give up your friendships, with Avery or your other friend, Kevin, I believe. Some things may change but you can still get together with them at times." I study her as she says that. "Thanks. Tomorrow, hmmm, I suppose I should get going, because I've got to pack and stuff." I had noticed she had relaxed a little when I agreed, but has become a little more tense, like she wants to look at her watch. "Yes, and I'm already a little late for my next appointment. But this has been fun, and I should say that Elizabeth, Thad, and Kitae - who met you at the door - all think you'll be perfect." They do? Have I misjudged this place! I've got a lot to learn, and quickly if I'm going to stay in this job. And I still can't believe it! She continues, "I want everyone here to get along really well, and do what they're supposed to, so we can all enjoy what we have. Now, go stop by Elizabeth's office, take the folder back with you, and she'll fill you in on the details and the paperwork. Certainly enough of that these days. And I expect to see you in the morning so we can go over some things. Oh, yes, if anyone does ask, tell them you've been hired as a trainer, without mentioning my name, just some Hollywood types. Nobody needs to know about any bodyguard business. Okay?" "Okay. I understand. And Ms. I'm sorry, Jillian?" "Yes?" "Thank you." "You're welcome. I like you a lot, Chris. I think this will really work out. You know your way back to Elizabeth's?" she says as we both stand. "Yep." She's about my height, a little taller than I had thought. She smiles at me and reaches over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I turn a shade of pink at that. "Good. Well, bye, see you tomorrow." What a smile she has. "Oh! Bye." And she glides out of the room. To be continued.........