any reason, I won’t have options. I can grant you an extension, but I have a feeling we’ll be seeing you prior to the first six months.”
Meaning that if I don’t check in, I won’t be able to come back at all. I’m fairly certain he has his suspicions as to what I’m planning. Any spy would do this. He would do this. There’s more at stake than just finding my father’s killer. It’s also about taking a very deadly and blood thirsty terrorist down. Even though there’s nothing concrete connecting Mazir to my father’s death, I’m certain he was. Call it a hunch. Call it intuition, but either way, I’ll have my answers soon.
“Thank you.” I stand, grab my clutch, and walk away, completely on my own.
Well, except for the former Navy SEAL who’s on his way.
What was I thinking when I called him?
One week later
He’s late.
I don’t do late.
I check my watch for the tenth time, then my phone, and my watch again. He’s got exactly one minute.
My phone rings and Mark’s name pops up.
“You better have some fantastic excuse planned,” I warn.
“How many more times are you going to check your watch?”
I scan the area.
“You’re spying on me.” I laugh.
“I out-spooked the spook.”
He seems genuinely pleased with himself. I’m impressed. Well, and irritated with him—and myself.
“I didn’t know I had to be on my A-game with you.” I fight the smile that forms knowing he’s watching. Last thing I need is him to have a read on me.
But the reality is that I like him. He makes me laugh, which isn’t easy. The adrenaline rush wore off on the plane, which caused my impenetrable armor to develop a small gap. He found it and used it. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it a little. Feeling like a woman, allowing myself to laugh, joke around a little, just have fun. Mark knows who I am. I don’t have to lie and use my alias. There is no need to talk about antiques, which I hate. They seriously gave me the worst cover story ever. I would’ve rather had to study biology over antiquities.
“I’m more than just a pretty face, Charlene.”
This is going to be when I kill him. My real name is my secret. My mother still feels the need to use it but never around anyone else, and sometimes not even in private. There’s something about my name. It’s sacred to me, and the only piece of me I’ve never given away.
“You guessed it.” I roll my eyes.
“Nope, you just told me I didn’t.” I continue to look around for him.
I grab my coffee cup and put my earpiece in. Once I stand, I go on autopilot, trying to look like the antiquities dealer I’m supposed to be. My long black hair is in a low bun. My knee-length pencil skirt clings tightly to my legs, and my pearls adorn my neck. I smile to the cute little girl sitting with her mother who’s too busy on her phone to notice the chocolate all over the girls face. I hoist my Michael Kors tote over my shoulder and scan the area as I walk. “Are we going to play this game or are you going to be a man and face me?” I ask.
“Well, Charity. If I’m going to work with you, I need to see how good you are. So, if you can find me, I’ll be happy to let you have me . . . and my skills.” His deep voice is layered with the challenge.
“Mark,” I say as sexily as I can. I hate using the female card, but I want him slightly confused. “What do I win if I find you?”
He groans softly, yet loud enough for me to hear. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself. “What?” he starts to say then stops. “Well . . .” Mark chuckles.
“Marco,” I tease.
“Polo,” he replies.
“I’m not new at this.”
“Neither am I.”
“Seems the question now is: who is better?”
Mark doesn’t answer. I start to peek my head out of the alley I ducked into so I could survey the area more discreetly. Arms wrap around my torso and pull me back. I raise my foot, prepared to stomp.
“Ahh, you wouldn’t want to do that, Charlie.”