Texts from Jane Lu’s Phone
I didn’t know you still cared about him so much. I thought you were over him. – Lucy Hernandez, January 5, 2:52pm
I’m here for business, remember? – Jane Lu, 2:59pm
I was wrong, make a move on Adrian if he’s still the one you want! Maybe… you just have to listen to your heart! – 3:04pm
Well, I asked my heart and she says Adrian ain’t interested. – 3:45pm
Tristan tugged my arm back, away from the artillery.
“You crazy? We don’t know how many there are!”
I pressed further ahead, dragging him along. I counted the time between each bullet and recognized the sound of only one line of fire from a machine gun. My handgun filled my other hand. Tristan whipped out his gun too, but mine was aimed at a potential target.
The closer I crept to the source of the machine gun, the further away the artillery became. Then the fire broke. The bullets stopped, and the sound of shooting gave way to a stomping of footsteps running out of the parking lot.
He was getting away!
“There’s one, get him!” I let go of Tristan’s hand. We both ran forward, hearing the footsteps at the same time. I ran slightly faster than Tristan, but he kept up close behind me.
The perpetrator ran faster than either of us. I sped up the empty ramps, past the numbers listing the different parking areas, and beyond the abandoned toll gate. Light broke at the end of one of the ramps, and before I could shoot at the tall shadow against the wall of the parking lot, I was out on the street.
Beep beep!
Cars drove around me, swerving in time to miss me by inches. I backed up and heard Tristan’s footsteps right behind me also drawing to a halt. The bright sky above us couldn’t have been farther from my suddenly dark mood.
“Were we just ambushed by the CIA?”
“No, there’s no way.” Tristan shook his head. “Marge wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Then someone followed us. Someone knew where we were going to be.” I tucked my gun back underneath my skirt and looked over my shoulder. The parking lot remained abandoned, not a soul around. I gazed back to the road ahead of me, cars whizzing by in the crazy Roman traffic and antique buildings filled with overstuffed shutter boxes. Not a single gunman in sight. “I don’t even know whether it was you or me being targeted.”
I groaned, resisting the urge to break something. There was nothing, though, nothing but a getaway gunman and another busy road would make finding him or her impossible.
“We’ve gotta tell Marge about this.” Tristan’s hand slipped into mine without warning and he began walking toward the pedestrian walkway. He peered both ways, checking for incoming traffic. “She needs to know.”
His voice trailed off as I pulled away from him. He flexed the hand I’d let go of, as if to shake away an imaginary burn. I backed away from him.
“What are you doing, Tristan?”
He walked toward me, his pace brisk and his voice urgent. “You can’t tell me the reason we’re not together is because of… some businessman who broke up with you.”
“I never said it was because of Adrian.”
“I’m not an idiot.” Tristan’s eyes flashed. “Why do you still care about a guy who acted like he barely knew you this morning?” He stepped closer to me, closing the space between us. Tristan rifled a hand through his hair. “He’s cold, kid.”
“Stop!” I pressed my palms against his chest. “I can’t.”
I hailed a taxi and walked toward it with Tristan—our hands definitely apart. “He’s an important source of information.”
“Seems like we can get rid of him to me.”
“Get rid of him?” I opened my taxi door and sat far from Tristan’s wandering hands. “I need him for the demonstration to close the contract, don’t I?”
He let out a harsh laugh.
“Adrian’s better off dead, kid.”
****
I was dead.
So incredibly, totally dead.
“I’m already half an hour late to my meeting!”
“I cannot go any faster.” The taxi cab driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror as he edged around the circle of traffic. We zoomed by the Coliseum, the gray ruins reminding me of my own professional credibility falling apart. My executive career was over.
I sank back into the leather seats and sighed in defeat. So yelling and demanding illegal speeds in Italian hadn’t worked.
“What is the meeting for?”
“What? Oh.” I stopped drumming my fingernails against the windowpane and scanned the taxi driver through the mirror. “I have a meeting with my boss about a business deal. We have to impress a client.”
“What kind of deal?”
I glanced at my suitcase next to me in the car. The flyers and presentation ideas and spreadsheets prepared last night were still fresh in my mind, along with all the details which weren’t quite suitable for taxi rides. “He’s getting rid of a competitor.”
I resisted the urge to pull out my compact and check my make-up for the three-hundredth time. I glimpsed the time on my phone again. Forty minutes late. There was no way Adrian would wait for me.
Still, when I approached the white building I stepped out of the cab and through the revolving glass doors. Endless windows with shutter boxes suddenly gave way to one-way black glass windows and paved concrete instead of cobblestone. The modern building appeared so out of place among all the ancient buildings of Rome.
But if the outside of the building was sleek and modern, the inside of the European CO station remained as antiquated as the Trevi Fountain. Wooden floors held up oak furniture, gold-trimmed tables, and ivory sculptures carved into the walls like a Catholic cathedral.
The building wasn’t called a CO station, of course. The words “BANKS HOTEL” stood outside the building on the neon banner. There were even a few tourists wandering around, taking pictures of all the antique furniture and Murano glass chandeliers.
I walked toward the front desk, my heels clipping with impatience to reach the receptionist.
The middle aged woman fixed a judging eye on me. She studied me enough to take a look at my CO ID badge and immediately ask, “Welcome to the Banks Hotel, how can I help you?”
I leaned closer and whispered, “CO, Lu, appointment, 34596.”
She typed in my ID code into the computer and frowned when she saw what popped up on the screen. “You’re late.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
I flashed a smile, hoping I possessed at least enough charm to make it into Adrian’s office. “Roman traffic is the worst at this hour.”
She paused before hitting the enter key on her keyboard. With a sniff, she pressed it anyway. She picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke into it, “CO approaching.” After setting it down, she glimpsed back up at me. “Third from the left.”
“Thank you.” I raced to the elevators and pressed the down button. The receptionist at the front desk controlled the two settings for the elevator – one which led to a normal elevator and another which led to the CO offices. Goodness gracious, if CO stopped changing the elevators they used for the entrance to the CO suite, it would make everything so much easier. Still, security reasons, I knew.
The elevator third from the left swung open. The elevator glided down two floors, and then the entire room became blue. A whir of a machine came from behind the elevator, and then a pad with the outline of a hand appeared instead of the elevator numbers to press. I pressed my palm down while the scanner beeped with life. Satisfied, the whirring stopped and I removed my hand from the pad. The elevator stopped as well.
I tapped my foot as the elevator doors parted open. As soon as they parted, I clenched my suitcase tighter in my hand and raced out the doors.
Agents and executives speaking a multitude of languages stood in front of the elevators, all jabbering away on their phones sorting out contract details or finalizing mission plans while talking in code. I squeezed my way through, toward the east set of revolving doors and into the lobby of Adrian King’s office.
No one else was waiting, so I walked ahead to the receptionist’s desk and placed my ID card in front of her. “I’m here for the eight-thirty appointment.”
“Mr. King has a busy schedule. You are much too late to complete the appointment.”
“Is he in his office right now?”
The receptionist shifted in her seat with some discomfort. “He is, but there is no way you can visit.”
I started walking toward the big black doors behind the receptionist’s desk after her first two words. She protested behind me, but not before the doors had already swung open.
A huge window was the first thing I saw. The window formed the wall opposite from the doors, giving a full view at the city of Rome below. I spotted certain landmarks and the terrible traffic. At least my cover story for being late seemed somewhat plausible.
“You can’t go in there!” The receptionist stood next to me in the doorway, somehow out of breath from crossing a few yards to reach me. Her panicked look switched from me to Adrian, obviously wondering whether or not she’d made a terrible error by not physically using her body to block me from walking to the office.
“I was stuck in traffic…” I paused, nearly unable to form the formal title on my tongue. “Mr. King. Please forgive me.”
Mr. King, however, didn’t seem concerned at all. “It is fine, Miss Lu.” He nodded to the receptionist before she closed the door behind us. Adrian rose from his seat and clasped his hands behind his back.
As soon as I sat down opposite him, he started pacing back and forth in front of the window before me. He looked marvelous in the fitted blazer and dress pants, while the slim fit of his oxford shirt made him look toned.
I wasn’t sure about maturity, but definite exhaustion was etched on his face. Noticeable bags formed under his eyes, and the wrinkles in his forehead reflected stress. My first instinct was to walk over to him and smooth his hair and his cheek. I’d ask him what was wrong, tell him he’d been working too hard, and kiss him softly on his lips.
I pushed those thoughts from my mind as quick as they’d slipped in. The wall of formality stood between us. I was Miss Lu; he was Mr. King. Adrian and Jane existed only in memories.
“I am sorry, you know, for being late. From now on I will remain much more professional and keep to schedule.”
“Oh?” Adrian quirked his mouth up in surprise. “Are you late?” He peered down at his watch. “I lost track of time myself.”
The pile of papers on his desk backed up his words. The stack stood several inches thick, and two empty coffee mugs rested next to the pile.
He rubbed his eyes. I realized the pacing wasn’t a mindless new habit, it was to try to keep him awake.
Even when CO let us take vacation breaks, Adrian kept studying some new subject or learned a new language. He never stopped working, and I’d always been there to remind him to relax, to prevent him from driving himself crazy with work. Without me, who would tell him to take care of himself and sleep on time?
My fingers itched with the urge to embrace him then and there. Instead, I opened my briefcase and pulled out the paperwork.
“There are several alternative routes we can pursue for the demonstration, considering the current budget for this contract negotiation.”
“No budget.”
“Excuse me?”
Adrian stopped pacing. “The CEO has decided not to place budget limits on the negotiation. He wants Croyden as a client.”
“Doesn’t a limitless budget mean more work for you?” I regretted the words as soon as they slipped from my mouth. “I mean, not saying you can’t handle it. It’s…” I gestured to the pile of papers. “You seem swamped.”
He pulled out his chair and seated himself behind the proof of my words. “If the CEO wants Croyden as a client, I have to make it happen.”
I folded my hands in my lap. “You don’t have to do everything he says.”
He leaned against his desk in front of me and crossed his hands across his upper chest. “There are responsibilities I have to fulfill as the next CEO. There will be more work for you as well.”
But his features were haggard, though his blue suit was pressed with precision. He was taking way more work upon himself than he could handle.
“Did you want it?”
“What?”
“The CEO position.”
“Always.”
I pressed my lips together. I feared direct eye contact with him would cause him to refuse to answer. “Why did you never tell me, when we were together?”
“I didn’t think I would get the position.” Urgency slipped into his tone. “All the hard work, all the sacrifices I made, it’s all worth it now. I can change the structure of CO. I already told you about those plans.”
I struggled to maintain detached professionalism in my tone, trying to match the coldness of his. “Is it worth it—the power? Having all the prestige?”
“Worth what?”
Losing me, I wanted to say. I wanted to cry it out, to scream it, to write it down and read it back to him.
I took out the papers in my briefcase and laid them on his table. “The most impressive way we can manage the explosions and artillery presentation, if the budget has been increased, is to employ the new laser technology Marty developed. We will present a combination of our still-in-production localized silent bomb. The bomb will cost more money to develop, of course, but will no doubt impress Croyden.”
“It’s not about the power.”
I swallowed and kept my eyes fixed on the papers. “What?”
“Keeping the CEO position. It’s not about power, or prestige, or anything else.” He cleared his throat. “It was about you.”
My throat felt dry. Every part of my body wanted to look up at him, but I was too scared he’d see the vulnerability in my eyes.
“I wanted you to finally have some peace in your life. You were always talking about peace, remember? You were always talking about having some boring life in the country and getting married. A regular executive couldn’t give such a life to you. I wanted to keep you safe. And there is no safer position in the world than the CEO’s wife, Janey.”
I flinched at the nickname. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve always been interested in being in charge. You love how everyone has to answer to you.”
I finally glanced at Adrian. My look of cool detachment had been abandoned long ago. “You love power.”
His jaw clenched at my accusations, but he didn’t deny the claims I made.
“You still don’t understand. When you’ve worked so hard for something, when you’ve risked so much to reach a position, there’s no way you can give it up.”
“But you can.” I stood up, the papers on the desk forgotten. If I could give up the CO for the CIA, anyone could. “If it isn’t right for you anymore, you can give it up. Trust me. You don’t have to accept what’s been told to you if you want something else.”
“Trust you?”
“I know you’re thinking about the Griffith, but this is completely different.”
“No, it’s the same.” All the easy familiarity from moments earlier evaporated. Coldness descended between us. “I’m not going to give it up now. Even if you’ve decided you no longer want to be with me.”
“Of course I want to be with you!”
Adrian’s eyes widened at my outburst.
I bit my lip, wondering whether or not to continue. Ah, why not. He couldn’t disregard me any more than he was already.
“He kissed me. I haven’t spoken to him since. There is nothing going on between him and me. There never was.” Well, except espionage. But at least nothing romantic.
His eyes sharpened, as if seeing me for the first time. “You never cheated?”
“I would never cheat on you.”
He studied my expression like he was trying to figure out whether or not I was lying. Okay, so he’d become more cautious of the words I told him. But there was nothing dishonest in what I said.
“I miss you. And now I see you with Emma and I know there’s something between you two.”
“There’s nothing happening with Emma and me.”
“What?”
“I said there’s nothing romantic between Emma and me.”
I clutched my necklace between my fingers. I toyed with the pearls, preoccupied with images of Emma and Adrian talking before class. “But I saw all the flirting in the hallway between you guys.”
“What?”
The words echoed what I’d said to Tristan. Maybe Adrian was as bad at recognizing flirting as I was.
Adrian finally broke the fog of quiet by lifting up one of the papers on his desk. “So, how much money do you think the bombs need?”
I blinked at him. The sinking in my chest threatened to overwhelm me. Of course. Even if he didn’t want Emma, he could still be over me. Believing I was with Tristan didn’t mean he wanted to be with me.
Yet when I finally peered back up to answer, I noticed his smile. It was kind and familiar. Warmth flooded my gut. An ease to the conversation which hadn’t existed before suddenly emerged. The old Adrian had returned to me.
“Quarter of a million, but Marty told me all the scientists need is a week. The bombs could be used after the lasers to heighten the effect. Start off the demonstration small, you know, and build it up to a better finish.”
“Sounds like work.”
“I think we can manage. We’ll have to meet some more, of course, to decide the final details. We need a private venue, for example. Then we’ll need to decide what time would be best to show it off.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. It was like we’d returned back to the beginning of our relationship, back when we were still flirting with each other and before the drama between us began. It was a new beginning.
“So am I.”
A new beginning would be nice.
****
“Someone just told me ‘Ni hao’ and tried to sell me a T-shirt with ‘I love Rome’ on it. Then someone asked me in Chinese if I was part of the Asian travel tour too.”
“Tourism doesn’t reach a peak until July. Consider yourself lucky.”
“Still.” The Trevi Fountain crawled with tourists, a haven for pickpockets and a purgatory for locals. The clicking of cameras was the main sound heard beside the fountain, that and the laugh of tourists who threw coins behind their backs “the Roman way.”
Marge donned sunglasses and cargo pants this time, blending in with the tourists. She lifted the sunglasses to pass her gaze over the sculptures carved into the crevices of the Trevi.
“Adrian and I decided our demonstration outline. The target is Croyden’s brother, but don’t warn him yet. We still need Croyden as a client to find out more about the contract negotiation.” I pulled out papers from my bag and handed them over to Marge. “Those are the details Adrian and I have sorted out for Croyden, including copies of the official contract forms for executives and for clients.”
“Understood.” Marge drummed her fingers against the concrete we sat on, straight in front of the fountain. “And how is the partnership between you and Mr. King?”
A blush crept into my cheeks. “Fine.”
Marge gave a curt nod. “Then all is proceeding as planned. The board of directors want to know if you need Tristan to be more involved in any way, if there is any way he can be of greater use to you.”
“No, I have enough information on my own so far. Tristan needs to convince Croyden I’m good enough for the job. I know Professor George put in a good word, but for a client this important, wouldn’t a trained executive be better?”
Marge raised an eyebrow. “Do you not think you are qualified enough to handle this contract?”
“No, this has nothing to do with qualifications.” I spotted a scrawny Italian boy looking at my bag like a dog salivating at meat. I picked up the bag, away from the pickpocket’s reach and into my lap. “I guess Tristan put in a good word for me and Croyden picked me, or something.”
“Be grateful. I know the CIA is grateful for the information you’re providing us.”
I checked my watch—later than I thought. I stood up with my bag in tow, ready to catch my next appointment. “Anything else, Marge?”
“Yes.” She placed her sunglasses back over her eyes. “There are still investigations into the disappearance of the family you saved a month ago. None of the investigations have been authorized by the CIA or FBI. The CIA believes CO may still be looking for answers.”
“But there’s no proof I’m responsible.” I held my chin up and brought my elbow over the end of my bag to protect against any other pickpockets. “No one knows except you and my informant.”
“Let’s keep it this way. Stay alert.”
“I will!” I walked away from Marge and toward the road.
I relaxed once the group of tourists thinned out at the main road. The narrow cobblestone streets of Rome weren’t as crowded as the main streets. No one ever crossed this road, except for the people who lived in the luxury apartments above. The shutter boxes varied in as many colors as the buildings themselves, ranging from pink to green to beige. There was no end to the rainbow of paint along the walls.
Several minutes passed before I noticed the footsteps behind me. I stiffened as soon as I heard the noise.
I quickened my pace.
The footsteps behind me quickened.
I slowed down.
The footsteps slowed down.
Aw, shoot.
I increased the length of my stride, running now, as fast as my legs carried me. The person behind me broke out into a run as well, on my heels along the streets of Rome.
Bang! Bang!
I ducked as the bullets whizzed at the plaster wall in front of me. A dog in one of the apartments above began barking, and someone yelled in Italian to “lower the volume down there.”
I raced ahead, sticking to the path I knew and escaping the gunman at the same time. I tried, once or twice, to catch a glimpse of my assailant over my shoulder. The attempts were useless. All my concentration was needed to stay ahead of the bullets slamming into the walls on either side of me or the odd ricochet threatening to lop my head off.
My fingers itched to reach for the gun tucked against my thigh, but there was no time. Bullets flew past me no longer. The footsteps stopped too. But I wasn’t about to waste any time for a surprise attack. I hurtled my body faster down the road, in a race to reach my destination.
I made out Adrian’s shape waiting for me outside his own luxury apartment block. He leaned against the white wall, the only white building in the neighborhood. It was a beacon of light to me, a refuge.
“What happened?” Adrian grabbed me as soon as I reached him. The strength in his arms kept me from running further, even while the adrenaline in my body demanded flight. He pulled me close against him. “What’s going on?”
“Back there! There’s someone trying to shoot me!”
Adrian let go of me and ran forward. He disappeared around the antiquated street corner for a few moments until he re-emerged, his brow furrowed and his mouth twisted into a slight frown. “There’s no one there.”
“But I heard someone! I saw the bullets.” I tried to slow my panting and calm myself down. Deep breaths, Jane. “Whoever was trying to shoot me just left! Someone was following me.”
Adrian placed both of his hands on my shoulders. “It’s okay; it’s going to be okay.” He brought my head toward his chest and smoothed over my hair.
I jerked away. “It’s not okay. Someone’s after me.”
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this, I swear.”
Guilt wracked me. As if Adrian didn’t have enough to do already! “It’s okay. I was panicking. Maybe it’s the last time.”
Adrian shook his head. He glimpsed another look at the road behind us. “Someone’s trying to hurt you? I’m not taking any chances.”
“But you already have so much work to sort out. I’ll figure this out.”
A normal person would have called the police, I know. But CO agents and executives never trusted the government law force. Everything had to be taken into your own hands.
“Speaking of work…” I lifted up my bag. “I’ve got the paperwork which needs your signature before the bombs ship over from California. And I’ve picked a few possible venues, which we can run over to sort out the placement of the weapons.”
“No. Look, we’re not done talking about this.” Adrian lifted the bag out of my hands and placed it on the ground. I made a sound of protest, but Adrian ignored me. “I think I know who may have been following you.”
“Who?”
“There’s a spy in CO.” His jaw set into a hard line of worry. “Remember when we landed at the family’s bookshop, and then there was no one there? The night Lucy was injured? Someone knew we were going to be there.” Excitement rose in his voice, his train of thought speeding faster and faster. “Those were FBI agents there—not just any private organization. Jane, someone’s spying for the government within CO.”
Oh dear.
I wasn’t sure how to react first—deny it all, or agree with every word he said. “How can you be sure?”
“I’ve been doing an investigation for CO. I had executives talk to the family’s relatives. I had everyone interviewed and their day-to-day schedule pieced together. Nobody they knew had ever informed them. It had to be the government.” Adrian’s eyes flashed. “What if someone’s trying to destroy your career with CO?”
“Who would want me destroyed?”
“I don’t know. But I have to find out who the spy is. Can you imagine someone inflicting so much damage on CO?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, it’d be terrible.”
“How can someone take everything CO’s given them and betray CO? Don’t they understand CO’s the worst enemy to have?”
“Well, obviously the spy doesn’t think he’s going to be caught.”
“Oh, he’ll be caught all right.” Adrian’s fists clenched. He motioned for me to follow him as he strode toward the main road. “I’m not letting anyone get away with stealing information from CO and hurting you.”
My heart fluttered. “Hurting me?”
Adrian hailed a taxi and opened the door for me. I stepped inside, checking to make sure I had my bag first. Adrian gave instructions to the driver, and then he concentrated his attention back to me.
“Of course I care.” He shifted in his seat. “You’re my business colleague.”
“Oh, yes of course.” Stupid girl. His every word both raised my hopes and then immediately crushed them. There had been the overly long glances, the slight touches, the words which seemed to say he still cared about me. But then came the formality of his, the cold barrier going back up between us whenever the atmosphere became anything but business.
“You’re important to the contract.”
“Yes.”
The passionate and fearful atmosphere between us limped back into a lame silence. I suppressed a sigh. So much for hoping he still cared about me.
****
There was no way this was happening. Not on an international call, halfway across the world, and without any real rational reason.
Lucy had admitted she was wrong.
“Well, as long as he’s not seeing anyone else.”
“I thought you told me to forget about him!” I fell back against my bed. The back of my head sunk against the overly fluffy hotel pillows.
“Maybe I was wrong!” Lucy’s voice sing-songed over the speaker, gleeful and all too happy to take back her own words. “Hey, you brought up Adrian first.”
“I thought Emma said he was dangerous.” I removed the speaker feature and raised the receiver to my ear. “Emma told me to stay away from him and you were scared, remember?”
“She did say something along those lines.” Lucy hesitated. I could see her curling her hair in thought, the bright pink bow in her hair keeping it all in place. “I wondered why he was too dangerous for you and not for her. Did you meet anyone else while you were there? An Italian boy, maybe?”
Tristan’s face flashed before me. “One, I guess. But I still love Adrian, Luce. The Italian guy kissed me and all I could think about was Adrian.”
“Some cute Italian boy kissed you?” Lucy squealed. “I would love a cute Italian boy to kiss me. Not that Dave isn’t perfect, of course. But how wonderful!”
“No, Luce, I knew then I still wasn’t over Adrian.”
“Then you have your answer, don’t you? Be with Adrian.”
I flipped over, my right cheek flat against the pillows. My voice sounded muffled with half of my mouth against the pillow and the other against the phone. “It’s not simple.”
“Love’s never simple.”
I jumped off the bed and walked toward the mirror. My dark hair hung straight and glossy against my head instead of its usual dry waves. The black dress I wore was brand new, the tag removed a few hours ago. “Even if I still like him, if he doesn’t like me anymore it doesn’t matter. He sees me as a business partner.”
“What about the Italian guy, then? When was the last time you saw him?”
Oh wow, when was the last time I’d seen him? The weeks flew by in a predictable routine of meetings with Marge and business negotiations with Adrian. I hadn’t seen Tristan or Croyden since the parking lot incident nearly a month ago.
“Hello? Jane, you still there?”
I snapped back to reality. “Still here, Luce.” I checked the time on the clock. “Listen, do you think my black dress looks better with the pink lipstick or the red?”
“The red, definitely.” Lucy giggled. “Are you going on a date tonight, then?”
I coughed. “What? No way. It’s a business meeting.”
“And you’re wearing a black dress and lipstick?”
“Maybe.”
“A business meeting with who, may I ask?”
“It doesn’t matter. How’s Dave doing?” I set the phone back into the stand, turning the speaker feature back on.
She talked about Dave for a while, describing how great he was to her and how much fun they were having. They weren’t having any issues. They were happy together.
No complications; no lies. I envied her more than she knew.
I opened my container of red lipstick and started to apply it. So I’d straightened my hair and wore my tightest dress. A dress didn’t mean this was a date. It was, however, the last meeting I was going to have with Adrian to decide the details for the demonstration. The venue was decided, the weapons were finalized, and all we needed was one final meeting before the practice run.
I unscrewed the top of my mascara case and leaned toward the mirror. The brush swept up my lashes, coating the tops. So maybe I was wearing some makeup. Makeup didn’t mean I was trying to impress Adrian.
Lucy took a break from her description of her last date with Dave to ask the question I’d been waiting for. “What if Adrian doesn’t want to be with you? Not saying he’s going to say that, or he doesn’t want to, but what if…”
“Then I’ll be fine.” I stepped back from the mirror. I didn’t need any more makeup. If I wanted to impress Adrian, it was going to be with what I said to him about the contract—not the amount of paint on my face. “I can survive, whether or not he wants to be with me.”
The sound of applause permeated the air. I realized Lucy was clapping for me over the phone. Maybe her speaker was on, too.
It definitely was, because then Dave’s voice entered the call.
“Lucy? Come back to bed.”
I smirked at my reflection. “Hey there Luce, think I better end the call now.”
“Oh.” I imagined Lucy’s blush at being caught. “Sorry! I’ll call you again next week.”
“Please do.” My finger hovered over the “END CALL” button. “Bye, Lucy.”
She hung up, and I pressed the button to end the call. So Lucy was happy in love at last. She deserved it more than anyone else I knew. There were no problems in her relationship. No espionage or murder.
I checked the time again—time to go. As I picked up my black bag, the necessary papers rustled inside.
The taxi spent fifteen minutes getting to the warehouse Adrian wanted to meet at. I paid the taxi driver using the stipend CO wired to my account. There was so much money I didn’t even know what to do with it all. Well, the dress had been one of the items, I thought as I tried to pull the tight material down. Maybe it sat a little higher than I’d thought when I’d bought it. The taxi pulled away, leaving me standing alone in front of the warehouse on the outskirts of the main city of Rome.
I shivered in the cool December air, my knees knocking against each other. The wind made me wobble a bit on my stiletto pumps. I took a deep breath, determined to conduct myself as professional as possible. If Adrian wanted a pure professional relationship, then professional was what we’d have.
I pulled out the key to the warehouse as I walked closer to the door. I stopped, staring at the door in front of me. It was already open, slightly ajar. Even the lights were on. Maybe Adrian had forgotten to close up behind him.
My heels clicked on the concrete floor as I stepped inside. “Adrian, I’m here.”
The sound of footsteps approached, and I quickened my pace. “Hey, remember how you told me last meeting you thought we couldn’t time the artillery fire correctly? I figured out a way to solve the problem.”
“Great, kid. Let’s hope he can solve this one too.”
The man in front of me raised his gun and aimed it right at me.
I gasped.
“Tristan?”
Tristan sneered at me, sinister and cold. “Sorry you had to be involved in this, kid.” He inclined his head as he inspected me from head to toe. “Was your outfit for him?”
“What are you doing?” My body’s instincts urged me to attack him, but my brain told me to stay still. Why was he aiming a gun toward me? We were on the same side!
I whirled my head around. Three tall, broad-shouldered men loomed toward me, their fists clenched and ready to throw a punch. I screamed right before one of the fists made contact with my flesh.
My head hit the floor first as I slammed into the concrete. Blinding pain surged through me. Shadows swirled before my eyes before darkness descended over my vision.