Integrity, p.6
Integrity, page 6
I rushed to keep up and hoped my jiggling didn’t turn the gurgling toddler into a puking toddler. For some reason I couldn’t fathom, maybe it was fatigue or the fact I just really wanted to trust somebody, I told her the truth. “I’m Alexandra.”
“Nice to meet you. My car’s just in the lot out front.”
“Great.” The moment I stepped outside, I glanced slowly around the parking lot and to the street beyond. Ah, there you are. The black SUV with its darkly tinted windows, parked four spaces from the front door, stuck out like a sore thumb. Remind me to send a copy of How to Not be Conspicuous 101 to these guys. Both the SUV’s front doors opened a foot. I stared, raising my eyebrows. You guys really want to do this now when I have a baby in my arms and am with this woman and two other kids? With all those people on the sidewalk just over there? The doors closed again. Yeah, I didn’t think so.
Helen peered around the lot. “Where’s your car?”
“Back home in Charleston,” I lied easily. Though lying and manipulation for the greater good had always been easy for me, I actually didn’t enjoy it. “And no rental. I always try to use public transport when I fly for work. Makes me feel better about those…whatchamacallits”—I pretended to think—“emissions. I’ll just take Metro to the airport or something. Do you know where the nearest station is?”
I could see her cogs turning. Mercifully, Helen was a nice human, albeit someone with questionable choices in child names, and had stepped right through the doorway of opportunity I’d just opened for her. “Well, I can give you a ride. There’s a station not far from our house.”
I put some extra gushiness into my response. “Really? Oh my, that would be so helpful. I’d really appreciate it. My flight leaves in three hours and I will be up the creek if I miss it. I promised the kids I’d take them to the movies this afternoon.”
She beamed. “It’s my pleasure. Us moms have to stick together, right?”
“Right!” I agreed as cheerfully as I could manage.
I helped her get the kids into their booster seats, and fobbed off my ignorance of how the numerous belts and buckles worked by telling Helen I’d rather she got her kids belted in just how she liked. My duffel and dry-cleaning bag went into the back, but I kept my handbag on my lap and the backpack wedged between my feet with my hand tangled in and wrapped around a strap.
In the side mirror, I spotted the black SUV pull out and slip onto the tail of the car behind us. I’d expected nothing less. While Helen drove, I leaned back in the seat and tried to look nonchalant and relaxed while I was scanning the road in front of us and the view in the side mirror every few seconds and thinking about how I was going to get free once I got to the Metro station. I just needed to get to Florida and figure this out. Because if I didn’t, then maybe I’d get fired from two jobs instead of just one.
During the drive I learned Helen, aged thirty-two, had married her childhood sweetheart and was pregnant again with a second set of twins. I said a silent prayer for her sanity and for the new children who would probably be named Pharaoh and Alabaster. I did my duty as doting babysitter, leaning around from the passenger seat to talk to the kids, while trying not to act like I didn’t want to slap the boy—I still didn’t know which one was Maverick and which one was Arcadia—for kicking my seat.
The drive took just under twenty minutes and I directed Helen to drop me a block over from the station—no need to fight the traffic of drop-offs and pick-ups, I’d said cheerfully…or give SUV a firm idea of where I was going. The moment Helen came to an abrupt stop, she popped the trunk of her soccer mom van. I leaned forward and put my backpack on, tightly clipping the chest strap. A wrist squeeze and dialing of drawl up to an eight helped complete my picture of gratitude. “Helen, thank you so much. You truly are an angel in disguise. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to run so I don’t miss my flight.” I turned around and narrowed my eyes at all three kids, and said a cheery, “Bye, guys! Behave yourselves!” before slipping out of the car, grabbing my things from the back, and booking it into the crowd to lose myself.
Well, that whole experience certainly cemented the fact I never wanted to reproduce. I made a quick perimeter check. Black SUV was five cars back, stuck in traffic. Nobody was jumping out of the vehicle, which meant they probably hadn’t seen me get out. They’d soon notice I was no longer in the passenger seat and leave Helen to backtrack and find where I’d parted ways with her. Helen and her unruly crew of kids would be fine, which alleviated my mild case of guilt at putting her between me and them.
Nobody in the crowd pinged my suspicion radar and my tension went from a 15 down to a 14.75. Waiting for the crossing signal so I could disappear into the safety of the underground station, I turned on my personal cell phone to search for a rental car company. Seconds after I’d opened the browser, the phone started ringing, startling me so much I almost stepped into oncoming traffic. Great, what a way to die after everything I’d evaded since last night.
The number on my screen was known and not problematic. I debated answering, ran at light speed through the pros and cons, and came up with one very large pro. If I could make it work. Very big if. They’d left me alone when I’d been with Helen and her harem of horrors, so all I needed was a perma-Helen who wasn’t Helen because if I had to spend any more time with Helen I’d probably just turn myself in. Charm and Persuasion—I really need you right now. I took a deep breath, and answered with a cheerful, “Lexie speaking.”
“Lexie, hi, it’s Sophia?” It sounded like a question, as if she wasn’t sure who she really was.
Imagining her expression made me smile. I knew who she was. Sophia Flores—thirty-nine, website and graphic designer, youngest of three kids—was fun and funny, kind and thoughtful, somehow both forceful yet sweetly timid, with a tantalizing hint of dirty girl simmering under the surface of her almost girl-next-door persona. Oh, and did I mention cute? She was really cute.
Despite the fact I was fleeing, not for my life but for my freedom, it wasn’t hard to be enthusiastic. “Sophia! Hey, how are you?”
“I’m good. Really good. So, uh, just checking in but I thought today was the day we were having breakfast then maybe a movie or something after? I’m already at the café but now I’m wondering if I got my days mixed up because you’re not here. Is everything okay?” There was both steel and shyness in her voice.
Of course I’d forgotten, or I would have rescheduled the date we’d confirmed by text just a few days ago. The date I’d been really looking forward to. But scheduling my love life had been pushed out of my brain-space in favor of other, more urgent things—like figuring out who wanted Hadim’s intel so badly they’d break into my house in the middle of the night and threaten me for it. I forced some extra ditzy contriteness into my response. “Oh, dammit. I’m late.”
She laughed. “Yeah, twenty minutes.”
“Right.” I peered left and right then jogged across the street before the signal changed. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” There was a slight pause. “But, listen, if you’ve changed your mind about a third date then that’s totally fine. I mean, I thought things were going amazingly and we’ve got some great chemistry, but if you don’t feel the same, then obviously it’s okay. But I’d kind of like to know if I’ve been ghosted or not.” She was trying to sound cheery and nonchalant, but I could hear trepidation underneath the words. The trepidation was good. It meant she hoped she hadn’t been ghosted, she wanted to spend time with me. I needed that.
“Ghosted?” I laughed genuinely. Oh, if only you knew, Sophia. “Not at all. My hellish week has bled into a hellish weekend and everything has run away from me, including time. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” I took in my location, did a little mental math. “I know you’ve already waited twenty, but do you mind waiting another ten or fifteen minutes? I get it if you want to reschedule, or…just call it off altogether, but I’d really like to see you today. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” It felt nice to tell some truths in amongst the lies and half-truths of the morning.
There was a long pause and I could imagine her debating whether or not she should teach me a lesson about punctuality. Apparently and thankfully, she decided that she’d enjoyed our other dates as much as I had, and wanted this one. “No, it’s fine. I can wait. You’re my only plan for today.”
My tension eased by another 0.25 points. “Fabulous. Again, I’m so sorry.” I added a touch of seduction when I murmured, “I promise I’ll make it up to you. See you soon.”
There was anticipation in her quiet, “Looking forward to it.”
We ended the call, and I slumped against a light pole.
Shit. Okay, priority number one: find something to wear that might actually keep this woman attracted to you. Looking frantically up and down the street, I spotted a clothing store that might have what I needed. Five minutes later I’d swapped outfits in the change room, finger-combed my hair, and hastily applied impulse counter-purchase mascara and eyeliner that, combined, cost more than the new top I’d just bought—but were totally organic, vegan, animal-testing free and probably rescued cats from trees in their free time. I was ready for breakfast. Almost. I folded my dry-cleaning bag into my duffel to ensure my handgun was covered and out of sight.
I’d just exited the store when my phone rang again, this time with a call through a communications app, rather than a regular cellular network call. Dammit. Yeah, my private number was private, but one person at work had it for emergencies. Derek. Despite the sick uneasiness that’d filled me when I saw that name, I still answered. “Yes?” While lying awake at five this morning, I’d decided I’d trust him. For now. Maybe that had been a mistake.
“Martin, what the hell is going on? Where are you? I’ve spent hours already this morning on multiple calls from multiple people about you. Care to tell me why people are interrupting my Saturday morning to tell me they suspect you’ve stolen intelligence?”
Stolen? I hadn’t stolen a damned thing. Not yet, anyway… The alarm I’d been keeping a lid on started to bubble up and boil over. I fought to keep my voice calm. “They’re wrong and that’s all I can tell you now. I’m not comfortable speaking about it here.”
He sighed. “Whatever’s going on, I need to know about it. Meet me at the office in an hour.” His voice softened. “You know you can talk to me.”
“No chance.”
“Okay,” Derek said evenly. “Meet me anywhere then. You name the place and time.”
“See my previous response. Feel free to go to my apartment and have a look at the mess in my bedroom if you need a reason why I’m not ready to meet anyone right now.”
I hung up on his response. I didn’t have time for this. I had a woman to win over.
Chapter Four
Flirting for Dummies
Sophia either had excellent awareness of her surroundings or had lucked out with a table that had a good view of the entry without being right by it. I stood outside the café, out of her direct line of sight, and took a few moments to watch the patrons obliviously absorbed in phones or food, or dexterously both. Except for Sophia. She cupped a mug tightly in both hands, her gaze fixed intently on the door as if she could force me to appear just by staring.
Unlike our other two dates where she’d worn her hair up, now the thick dark waves were settled on top of her bare shoulders and cascading down between her shoulder blades. I wanted to trail my fingers lightly over the skin of her shoulders and gently push her hair aside, and could easily imagine how soft her hair would feel against my cheek if I bent to kiss the curve of her neck, lick the—
Yeah, this is really not the time to be horny. Or actually, maybe it was…
A driver blared their horn right behind me, and I startled, spinning around just in time to see rude hand gestures exchanged between a cyclist and driver. Slow clap for Lexie. Standing outside staring goofily at a woman and leaving yourself completely exposed. Good thing Lennon hadn’t just seen that or I definitely wouldn’t be getting a bonus this year.
I shook myself off and refocused on the task at hand, though calling it a task sucked some of the fun out of it. I mean, it was a date, sure, but also…the fate of the country might depend on whether or not I could make it a really good date. I quickly tidied myself and checked nothing was amiss. Everything fine, looking good, except… Oops, that could have been awkward. I swapped the ring from my left ring finger back to my right. World’s quickest divorce.
When Sophia leaned down to rummage in the handbag nestled between her feet, I pushed through the door and picked my way through the two-thirds-full café toward her. I was surprised by the sudden surge of excited nerves as I approached. It wasn’t nerves about what I had to do. It was nerves because I was genuinely attracted to her and wanted that attraction reciprocated. After a deep inhalation, I quietly said, “Sophia.” She looked up instantly, her mouth curving into a smile. I held my free hand out and adjusted my tone to contrite with a touch of appreciation. “Please forgive me for keeping you waiting, and then waiting again. You look amazing, and I’m an idiot.”
Still smiling, Sophia took my hand in hers and I allowed myself a moment of indulgence in the smooth warmth of her skin as we held eye contact. Her eyes moved to the duffel in my hand then to the backpack securely clipped across my chest before coming back up to meet my gaze. Totally deadpan, she asked, “Did I miss the memo about bringing my worldly possessions to the date? I mean, I know the whole U-Haul joke, but maybe we should talk about this.” Her voice was low and melodic with an edge of huskiness, and from the moment I’d first heard it I’d thought of lazy mornings in bed. I forced myself to concentrate on her, not the fluttering feeling in my stomach. The smile turned to a grin, offering me a view of the gap between her top front teeth, which gave her a slightly cheeky, naughty air. Its appearance had the same effect on me as it had during our previous dates—smitten. So smitten.
Laughing, I leaned down and after a quick pause to check her reaction—receptive—kissed her cheek, right near the edge of her mouth. I made sure to linger. “If I ask you to move in with me, you’ll definitely know about it.” I paused a moment to let my words sink in, then blurted a Helen-borrowed reason with a little elaboration, hopefully to lay the foundations for later. “My apartment is being fumigated, and I totally forgot about it. The company just turned up this morning and I had ten minutes to grab some things. I still need to find a hotel for tonight, and my car’s in the shop so I’ve had to Uber and Metro everywhere.” I turned on my most charming smile. “I’m so sorry, I know I’ve just thrown a bunch of excuses at you, but everything has piled on these past few days and I’m still playing catch-up.”
Sophia’s expression softened and she reached for my hand again. “Oh god, no no, don’t worry about it. Sounds like you’ve had a horrible couple of days.” She lightly squeezed, her fingers brushing against my palm. “Are you okay?”
She was such a sweetheart. I pushed aside a pang of guilt—guilt for what I was going to do, and guilt that I was taking time to enjoy my personal life when my professional life was a metaphorical ticking bomb.
I settled in the free chair, shuffling closer to her. My bags went to the floor, the backpack wedged securely between my feet. “It sure has been a hectic few days, and yes, I’m okay. Thank you for asking.” Okay-ish. It’s all relative, isn’t it? Waving aside the fake inconveniences, I said, “But anyway, enough about me. It’s so great to see you again, and you really do look incredible. That dress…” I fanned myself. It wasn’t an idle compliment; she did look incredible. Since our first date, I’d thought about her often, her mental appearances a pleasurable intrusion into otherwise mundane days. But now I was with her, I realized I wanted more than just mental appearances.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks pinked as she glanced down, smoothing her hands over her thighs. She looked up again, and the intensity of her gaze made something zing between us. I’d misremembered the exact color of her eyes—a beautiful light brown that reminded me of almonds. Her eyes lingered on my breasts for a second, and I hoped I hadn’t done something stupid in my haste to buy date clothes, like mis-button my shirt or leave one gaping to expose my bra.
A quick peek down confirmed I was okay and that apparently, she just wanted to look at my breasts. Fair enough. I mentally added another point to the “This might work out” column. Sophia gestured around my face. “You cut your hair. I love it. Shorter really suits you.”
I ran my hand over the back of my neck, slightly alarmed by the lack of volume I found there. It was going to take some getting used to, having short hair again, though it wasn’t exactly short. I’d had far shorter. “Ah, thank you. I just…had a whim and did it without thinking. Have you ordered?”
She raised her mug. “Just coffee.”
“Great.” I gently pulled the menu from under her elbow, glancing around as if pretending to look for a server. Nobody nefarious. Or rather—nobody obviously nefarious. “This one is on me.”
Once we’d ordered, we picked up where we’d left off from our last date, when she’d told me all about her family, in loving detailed detail, and I’d told her barely anything about mine because there wasn’t much to tell compared to the intimate unit in which she’d grown up. So when she gently probed again about my parents, I felt like I had to give her something beyond “They died almost a year and a half ago in a light plane crash, and we weren’t exactly a close lovey-dovey family.”
I tried to make it sound warm instead of cool and bland. “My father was a diplomat, so as a kid I lived all over the world, in a whole lot of fancy apartments. And Mom taught English wherever we were living. No siblings, cousins, aunts, or uncles.” I smiled at her expression, which contained both shock and upset. “I’m what happens when two only children have an only child.”
