100

Annie’s emerald-green eyes were stunning, almost hypnotizing.

Marcus found he often had to look down at his meal or out across the river and the city not to betray the intense, if conflicting, emotions he was feeling throughout the night.

He learned that Annie’s father had gone to American University and that her mother had not only been the first woman in her family to go to college but had gotten a full scholarship to Georgetown. He learned about her love for Charleston and her even deeper love for the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where her family went every summer. Her aunt and uncle owned a huge home there in Corolla, right on the beach, and though they rented it out for July and August—covering the entire year’s mortgage in just eight weeks—in June the whole extended family came to stay and play. They were, she told him, the sweetest memories of her childhood, though after her parents were killed in a plane crash about ten years earlier, she had never gone back.

Marcus was stunned. He had no idea her parents had passed. How was that possible? he wondered as she reminisced about their summers together. Then again, he realized, while they were acquaintances and even colleagues, he and Annie had never been close. They were not even really friends. She knew a great deal about him. They had traveled together for work. She had met his mom and sisters. She had been to Lars and Elena’s memorial service. But he did not really know her. He had never met her family. Apparently he had never even asked about them. Not in the last decade, at least. Of course, he had also been a married man, a father, and a Secret Service agent on the Presidential Protective Detail—a life that barely afforded him the time to visit his own family out on the Front Range, much less forge deep, personal friendships with people outside his immediate orbit. And whether he had had time or not, he’d never been in the habit of forging such friendships with attractive, single women.

And then, of course, there had been Pete.

“Marcus? Helloooo? You still with me?” Annie had asked, trying to get his attention.

Embarrassed, Marcus suddenly realized he had zoned out. “Yeah, sorry, I . . .”

“That boring, eh?”

“No, no—please, no—I was just . . .”

“It’s okay; you don’t have to . . .”

“No, really, it’s not you; it’s—”

“If you give me the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ line, I’m really going to have to deck you.”

Marcus laughed. “No, it’s not you or me; I’m just thinking about Pete.”

“Pete who?”

“What do you mean, ‘Pete who?’ Pete Hwang. Who else?”

Annie looked quizzical. “What does Pete have to do with any of this?”

Marcus stared back at her. “Uh, he’s been kind of crazy about you for, you know, forever,” he finally replied.

“Really?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I mean, we’re friends—good friends—and of course we worked together for a while, but . . .”

“You never saw it?”

She shrugged, trying to think back over her years of knowing Pete.

“And you call yourself an intelligence professional?” Marcus teased, drawing a laugh from her.

“I guess I suspected he might have a little crush,” she conceded. “But he never said anything. So I didn’t think it was serious.”

“Why do you think he moved here?”

“To work for Senator Dayton.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Not even close.”

Stunned, Annie sat back in her chair and stared out the window.

“Look, it’s not really a big deal,” Marcus said. “I called him. I told him we were going to this thing together. And he was fine with it. Really. But . . .”

“Should I say something to him?” Annie asked.

“No way,” Marcus replied. “He’d die. Actually, he would kill me first and then die. Really, it’s not a thing. It’s just . . .”

A waiter came over to take their dessert orders.

“Can we have a minute?” Marcus asked him.

The waiter nodded and stepped away.

“I love Pete,” Marcus said.

“Obviously.”

“We’ve always been close, but after Elena and Lars were killed, he helped me a ton, and after Nick died, Pete became the closest friend I have in the world.”

Annie nodded.

“And I feel bad for the guy, you know? He’s alone, and it’s eating at him, and I want him to find someone who is head over heels for him.”

“Absolutely,” said Annie, taking his hand across the table. “I’m a pretty good matchmaker.”

Marcus laughed. “Well, that may be a little quick. I don’t think he’s ready to have you, of all people, try to hook him up with someone. But . . .”

“What?”

“After tonight I am going to have a longer talk with him.”

“About?”

“Us.”

Annie looked taken aback. “Us?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you saying, Marcus?”

“I’m saying one date isn’t going to be enough, Annie. I’d really like to see you again.”