The Bodyguard
Katherine Center’s book falls over itself with silly, slapstick goofiness, and is positively stuffed with fluff that I almost gave up reading it. But I didn’t…
Hannah Brooks, an “executive protection agent,” is assigned to cover movie star, Jack Stapleton, while he’s home visiting his mom during her cancer treatment. Not a bad start, right? I see you, gender expectations and topsy turvy trope “reversal.”
Hannah and practically everyone else in her firm of knuckle-headed bodyguards have a crush on Jack, as he’s the type of guy who’s been voted Sexiest Man Alive. Hannah, who believes she is truly unloveable due to *past wounds*, has to stick by Jack’s side to protect him from various potential threats, including his stalker—a corgi-breeding, expert knitter—while Jack deals with the wreckage of his family relationships because that one time he killed his younger brother. Accidentally. (Or did Jack really kill him? I’m not telling. You’ll have to read to find out!)
From Hanna’s POV, the romantic arc can be explained like this:
“Come on. This was Jack Stapleton. And I was just...me.”
Now, I’ve only started one other book by Katherine Center, so I’m no expert, but Center seems to do some of the most scant, superficial characterization out there. Spare, in a word. But, it’s popular with readers, as this novel got more than seven thousand votes for Best Romance 2022 on Goodreads.
To me it reads as 2-D, with characters more fixated on physical things or lists, rather than things felt or experienced. However, I did like this one more than Things You Save in a Fire, clearly, as I couldn’t make it to the end of TYSIAF. But the premise and pacing of The Bodyguard had me in their fuzzy little mits so kept at it with this one.
You know what got me over the finish line? My brain did a little mental gymnastics, and voilá—when I pictured it on my TV as light, zany, totally unbelievable romcom MOVIE, it was way easier to buy in. Two of Center's books have already been made into movies, so it’s a real possibility. I hope the movie version adds more depth of character to Hannah. I want less jokiness, more toughness. Jack was fine. Unremarkable. Adequate. Mostly he has to look good and flex that muscle in his jaw.
Speaking of toughness, The Bodyguard got me thinking about what it means to be a tough woman, like these fine random examples from royalty free photos (pictured above) I found on the Internet!
There are so many examples of tough heroines out there, and while Hannah occasionally made good on that promise, most of the time she behaved like a spazzy, friendless middle schooler, which was capped off by her fear of farm animals and nature in general. I mean, it’s Texas, but still. Her emotional age was like, eleven.
For instance, she doesn’t take much slack from Jack, but when he bestows the nickname “Stumpy,” on Hannah, the blush was off the rose. What? Stumpy? It’s like a mean frat brother name that got slapped on some poor kid during rush week. It was never in a million years going to work as a term of endearment, and it showed just how not-attracted Jack was to Hannah.
But, but, but…
You: But it’s a joke! He’s teasing her because he likes her.
Me: That shit is done. It is 2023. We are way past physical put downs. And as Lizzo clapped back this week, “The discourse around bodies is officially tired.”
After the couple’s first kiss just after 80%—that’s right. This is not a “sexy” book—this is what runs through Hannah’s mind:
“I need to point out here that most of the time, in my life, I walked around feeling reasonably confident. I was good at my job. I was a nice person. I had good hair.”
Good hair? Seriously? That’s part of her revelation? Yawn. I’m asleep. And I’m kind of sad, too, TBH.
So, 2.5 stars ⭐️⭐️ rounded up to 3, because I’ll definitely watch this when its Netflixed. And we all know he bar is low and the need for diversion is high.
Sexy-meter rating: 🌶🌶 + plus an extra chili flake. Maybe.
