Jasper growled deep in his chest as he packed his bag and loaded it into his SUV. He couldn't f*****g believe this. It was Christmas. His father was dying. But could he stay home and celebrate with the old codger?
Grrr.
No, of course f*****g not. Jasper had an assignment. He was being sent to act as a bodyguard for some stupid socialite, or celebrity, or whatever the f**k this client was.
Artist, his brain supplied the word Jennifer had told him during their very brief briefing.
Whatever.
Probably some ex-housewife who got t****k famous for making picture frames or lawn statues out of recycled grocery bags or some s**t like that. The things that passed for art these days were a f*****g mystery to a guy like him.
Besides, who went to Egypt on a whim after getting divorced? Someone wit
