DATING A SPY ISN'T ALL FUN AND GAMES
by
Andie Alexander
~~~~~
PUBLISHED BY
Andie Alexander on Smashwords
Dating A Spy Isn't All Fun And Games
Copyright © 2010 by Andie Alexander
(originally published under penname Markee Anderson)
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
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I’d like to thank those who believe in my writing and have encouraged me throughout the years. Without you, I’d have given up a long time ago, but would still have a story to share in my heart. And thank you to my family who gave me a sense of humor. I’ve found if you don’t laugh, you cry…and I prefer laughing.
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DATING A SPY ISN’T ALL FUN AND GAMES
~~~~~
Chapter 1
“There’s a mime convention in town,” Mitch said to me. “That’ll be fun to watch. I bet if you tell them you were a beauty queen, they’ll put on fake crowns and wave.”
My ex-husband was turned in the seat in front of me on the Metro while we rode from Northern Virginia to work in Washington, D.C., on a Monday morning in May. Mitch was gay, announcing it the minute after we said ‘I do,’ seven months earlier. The marriage was annulled the day after my ‘new best girlfriend’ and I shopped till we dropped in Vegas, so it wasn’t a total loss. However, he did get better deals on women’s bikini underwear than I did, and I’ll never forgive him for it.
He looked up from the newspaper he was reading, staring behind me. “Hey, someone’s watching you.”
“Who?” I started to turn, but Mitch touched my arm, still staring behind me.
“Don’t look,” he whispered. “You’re such a typical blonde. It’s an older military guy, with dark hair and dark eyes. He’s wearing business casual, an upper end dark red polo and stone colored pants.” He studied the man for a while. “He’s wearing a wedding ring, or I’d be over there chatting him up.” Mitch licked his lips and winked, making me scoot down in my seat.
“Any response?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m feeling the heat, and it’s in a good place.”
“In him,” I whispered. Mitch was so ready for a homosexual relationship; it was scary. He’d date anything.
“Oh, right.” He studied the man for a moment. “He knows I’m watching.” Mitch looked out the window. “I’m close to my stop. What will you do if the guy follows you?”
The subway slowed. “Ask him out, just to make you jealous.”
“He’s married.”
“So? I’d be the kept mistress.” I smiled. “Then I'd date Shawn on the side, keeping me very happy.”
“Did you ever notice how much Shawn and I are alike? We both have dark brown hair, very blue eyes and are both adorable and very sexy.”
“He’s straight. That’s a major difference.”
He stood up. “Yeah, or I’d ask him out.” He chuckled as he walked off the subway.
I was afraid to turn around, concerned because the seat beside me was empty. However, if the man wanted to talk to me, he certainly could’ve moved next to me at any time.
My stop to change trains came, and I figured I’d lose the guy as soon as I got off the first train. But, as I waited on the platform, I felt his eyes watching me while I tried to ignore him. After a few minutes, my next train came, and I got on, heading east. I wanted to lose him, so I found a seat next to a very pleasant woman. Because she was reading, I acted like I was studying my calendar. If I didn’t make eye contact with the man, he didn’t exist, in my mind. Beauty queen training didn’t prepare me for anything like this. Darned beauty queen training. World peace my foot. This was one guy I didn’t want to meet or make world peace with.
The trained slowed, the driver yelling out the stop for Union Station, near my work. I stood up, walked out the doors and happened to glance around me. The stalker stood two people back, watching as I stepped closer to the door. The color red lit up in my head from the terror I was experiencing. I suddenly wished my beauty queen talent had been self-defense so many years before, instead of singing Jingle Bells while throwing fake snow into the air and wearing a parka in the middle of August.
Just as I got into the station and headed up the stairs, my cell phone rang. Checking the identification, I realized it was Mitch, so I answered it with a smile. “Did you miss me already, or are you having a pseudo-male ego crisis?”
“Very funny,” he said. “Is he still following you?”
I glanced behind me. “Yes. Even after changing from the yellow to the red lines on the Metro.”
“Don’t take any back alleys to work to meet with your drug contacts.”
I laughed at his attempt at humor. He knew beauty queens didn’t do drugs. It would ruin their complexion. “Like I’d do that. Do you think I should worry?”
“Yep. I didn’t like how he was watching you. Be careful and call the cops if he tries anything.”
“Got it.” We said goodbye and ended the call.
I suddenly felt very alone with someone following me to work. I didn’t have to just feel it, because it was true, terrifying me.
I snapped back to reality. It was possible the guy worked in the same area where I worked and I just hadn’t seen him before. I was probably over-reacting and it was all Mitch’s fault, because beauty queens could be naïve, according to Mitch.
Flipping my hair back from my shoulders, I walked upstairs from the subway through Union Station, passing shops and out to the street, a little over a block from my office. My phone vibrated and rang in my pocket, so I grabbed it and opened the thing. Glancing at the caller id, I saw the name of my true love, Shawn, and pushed the talk button.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” I said. “How’s work going?”
“I’ve been here since three this morning and nothing’s working. Tell me you’re beautiful and wearing a sexy red dress with your diamond tiara from your beauty queen days? You are meeting me for lunch, right?”
I glanced around behind me, walking toward my office building. “Yeah, but no red dress. I left the tiara at home. Try black slacks and a light blue blouse.”
“Close enough.” He listened for a moment. “You’re out of breath. What’s going on?”
“I seem to have an issue.”
“Issue?” I heard him take a bite of something, probably a breakfast bar. He loved breakfast bars, but, to me, they tasted like cardboard and bark. He really needed someone to cook for him, and I really wanted to be that one.
I lowered my voice. “Someone’s following me.”
“Where are you?” His voice sounded serious.
“I have about a block to go. I just left Union Station.”
“Keep walking. I’ll take care of it.” He ended the call and I stared at my phone. What could he possibly do? He worked as a computer analyst in a governmental contracting firm closer to Dupont Circle. Lately, his hours were horrible, working seventy or more hours a week with one day to completely crash, usually at my place so I could take care of him. I knew how to cook well, so he’d relax and I’d wait on him. It was kind of fun, because he was really a nice guy.
I headed toward the building where my job as a mathematical statistician for the Bureau of Labor Statistics was located. I may have been blonde and an airhead, but I wasn’t stupid.
As I walked, I saw my building within running distance. However, I also saw the mime group heading toward me—white faced, gloved, and all wearing black and white striped outfits with black hats. Of all times for the tourists to interfere. There were at least fifty of the beasts heading my way, making believe they were pulling on ropes, stuck in a room, or walking across a tightrope. My life could be on the line and these people were acting stupid. I could run out into the street, but I’d learned that the fastest way from one point to another was in a straight line. Besides, there were so many mimes; they were also walking in the street, winding between stopped cars at the red light. I had to get past the mimes. Not a fun thing to do.
Quickening my pace and dodging mimes, I was certain the scary man was following me, because every time I glanced back, he was getting closer and closer. As I made my way through imaginary ropes and balancing sticks, I realized these people were just weird. I hated mimes, now more than ever. They weren’t on my ‘world peace’ list, either. But I kept my mind on the prize—getting away from the man stalking me.
Glancing behind me, I saw the stalker getting closer. I kept walking as fast as I could, stopped suddenly by a stupid mime with some sort of weird fetish. His face met mine as I ran into him, turning my head. He acted extremely surprised, overacting, as usual. He embraced me, and as I tried to get out of his grasp, he planted one right on my lips.
“Watch it, buddy!” I pulled away and glanced backward. The man on my tail was mere inches from me, his arm outstretched to touch me, being held back by a tickling mime. I took off running, glad I was wearing my required governmental sneakers every female employee wore, to save their good shoes from wear and tear on the sidewalks.
When I was about ten feet from my office door, I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Lauren McDonald.” He spun me around and reached for my earlobe. Just as I tried to back away from his scary dark eyes, a black unmarked car screeched to the curb and two men in black suits jumped out. They grabbed the stalker, threw him into the back seat and sped away.
Every single one of the mimes put their hands to their mouths, overacting their surprise, while the rest of the crowd, mainly governmental workers, began clapping for the mimes. The crowd cheered them on, not realizing my stalker had just been kidnapped.
I stared, not sure what to think. The man knew my name, he touched my shoulder and he looked driven—scary driven.
My cell phone rang the familiar tone of Shawn’s call, the talent song of ‘Jingle Bells’ from my beauty queen days. I reached down and opened my phone, still looking around to make sure I was safe. “Hello?”
“How are you doing, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know. There were these stupid mimes—” One of them passed me, lifted his nose and crossed his arms as if offended, but I continued talking. “This man just touched my shoulder, and now—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Shawn said. “I’ve got your back and saved you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing for you to worry about. I want you to do me a favor.”
I looked up into the sky and at the streetlights, trying to figure out how he had my back. “How did you know to save me? No, how did you save me at all? Did you know those guys who stopped and grabbed the stalker?”
He ignored me. “Go to the brewery and restaurant on the next corner. I’ll be right there to make sure you’re okay.”
I was suddenly surrounded by mimes making fun of me. I guess if you tick off one mime, they have this psychic link to let you know you’re in trouble.
I kept talking to Shawn on the phone. “I’m fine, I think, other than these stupid mimes mimicking me.” One wagged his finger at me, while another mimicked paddling me. If I didn’t have this sense of style, thanks to the beauty contest, I’d be kicking their butts.
“I’ll meet you in about thirty seconds.” Shawn ended the call and I checked my watch. I had ten minutes to get to my desk. It was weird, to say the least, but I had to meet him or some other unmarked black car might hunt me down. For some reason, I had to think he was linked to the black car, but had no real way of knowing.
Moving out of the circle of mimes, I walked to the brewery restaurant, where Shawn was leaning against the outside wall with his arms folded and one foot crossed over the other. I even noticed a toothpick hanging out of his mouth as if he were relaxing on a porch after a huge meal with not a care in the world. He was dressed in his usual computer-geek outfit of jeans and an old white t-shirt, looking out of place with all the mimes and professionals making their way to work that morning.
I approached him as he walked toward me with a grin. “My sweetheart. You made it.” He leaned over and wiped my lips. “Mime paint.”
“One stupid one attacked me.” Grabbing a tissue from my purse, I wiped my lips again, trying to get the thought out of my head. I’d have to fix my lipstick now. “The guy kissed me, the idiot…I mean he doesn’t understand the ways of world peace. It means no kissing.” Even though I was no longer a beauty queen, I had to keep the thoughts in my head. It was my duty to be the ambassador for the world, even though I came in third place.
I studied Shawn’s brown hair and very blue eyes, seeing the man of my dreams, suddenly so mysterious; I didn’t know what to say. I cleared my head and studied him, confused. “How did you get here so fast?”
He pointed toward the brewery restaurant, moving away from the wall. “I was hungry.”
“But it’s not opened yet. What’s going on? Who was that man behind me and who was in that black car? Do you know what I’m even asking you?”
Removing his toothpick, he took my arm and gave me one of those toe-curling, heat-induced kisses that transcended all other kisses from any man I’d ever dated—or married. I backed off, lightheaded, and composed myself.
“Now, what were your questions?” he asked with a grin.
“That’s not fair. You messed with my synapses. Let me think for a moment.”
He dusted off my shoulder, then began massaging my back. “Done yet?”
“No.” I studied his face. “Oh, I remember. Who was that man and who were those men in the black car?”
“What man? What black car?” His face turned concerned. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you had my back and…something else.” I hated when he made me forget what I’d been thinking.
He kept rubbing my shoulders, then kissed me again. “I do have your back. Feel that?”
My eyes were closed. “I feel something and I think it’s hot.”
“You’re so easy,” he whispered into my ear. “Go to work and meet me for lunch. I’m hungry today, and not just for food.”
I backed away, staring at his face. “But I told you I wanted to wait. I have to keep up my innocent reputation. Remember, world peace and innocence? Beauty queen stuff?”
“I know. Just seeing if I can talk you into something.” He checked his watch, then pulled me to his chest, his eyes mere inches from mine. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”
I grinned. “No. Do you love me?”
His kiss was sweet. “More than anything. And you’re absolutely beautiful, even without the red dress and tiara. Now go to work and I’ll see you at lunch at your desk.”
“But you have to have a badge to come upstairs.”
“Let me worry about that.” He turned me around so I’d face my building. “I know I have an effect on your senses after just one kiss.” He lifted his finger right near my face and pointed. “That’s your building and watch out when crossing the road.”
“Thanks.” I shot him a grin. “I love you, too, Shawn.” I walked away, and when I got to the other side of the street, I turned and shot him my queenly wave. He waved back as he laughed, then turned, going down the sidewalk in the other direction.
As soon as I got inside, I punched a speed dial number into my cell phone, put my badge up to the turnstile reader before walking through it, and headed toward the elevator with my phone at my ear. As soon as he answered, I interrupted him. “Mitch, I need to talk to you.”
“I’m in the middle of going over a presentation. The agriculture numbers are due, and you know I have to help present it on Capitol Hill. Can’t it wait?”
I stood at the elevator, watching the numbers above the doors. “Sorry. That guy was following me. Shawn called me and I mentioned it. Right when the guy said my name and touched my shoulder, a black car pulled to the curb and the guy was whisked away. Shawn called me back and met me, but acted like nothing happened.”
“Time to get a new boyfriend. This guy sounds freaky.”
“Or is he my knight in shining armor? What do I do?”
“Do you know anyone in the FBI?” he asked.
I covered my mouth, hoping no one else was listening. “No. But you know people who work there, right? If you play your cards right, you may even get lucky with one of them.”
“You want me to have someone look up your boyfriend? Why not just ask him?”
I stared at my phone. What kind of man had I married and had an annulment with? Considering I was still a virgin, there was only one answer. I was stupid to think he could help me, but that wasn’t a queenly thought at all. I put it out of my head. “I can’t ask him or I tip my hand. Mitch, time to call in a favor. Find out.” The elevator door opened. “I’m going to work now.”
I ended the call and stepped inside the elevator. Glancing around at the people surrounding me, I felt like I was being watched. It was going to be one of those paranoid days where you feel like everyone is out to get you. In my case, it was true.
The trip to my floor was long, with people getting in and out at every stop. I worked in the CPI, or Consumer Price Index, statistical area in the Bureau of Labor Statistics, helping to get the numbers ready for presentation later in the month. The economy was doing well, so it was fun to crunch the numbers to give to my bosses who presented them to Congress. I was a lackey who did the work behind the scenes, not making me that happy, but at least I wasn’t taking the heat if the numbers weren’t good.
When the elevator stopped at my floor, I walked past our secretary and into my office.
As soon as I sat down to fix my makeup and get rid of the mime paint on my lips, Gina the gossip ran into my office. “Did you hear? Someone was kidnapped right outside this building not more than five minutes ago. Stacey, down the hall, saw it. Everyone thought it was a show for the mimes, but as it turns out, it was a real-live kidnapping.”
I didn’t look up from the mirror in my hand, still working on my lipstick. “She did?”
“She said these two guys jumped him, beat him up, then slammed him against the car before they threw him into the back seat. She called the cops, but they haven’t gotten here yet.”
I lifted my eyes from my mirror and smacked my lips. “Is that right?” I wasn’t about to tip my hand. “Are they coming up here?”
“Yes.” She looked out into the hallway. “They just walked in.” She ran of my office, and as she did, I shut the door behind me and put my lipstick and mirror into my purse. Lifting my phone, I called Shawn, who was probably en route to his job.
“My adorable sweetheart,” he said. “You must want to hear my voice or something.”
“Something’s right. I want an explanation and I want it now.”
“What happened to world peace and the rose-colored glasses?”
“Forget that. The girl down the hall saw what happened and is embellishing it for the police right now.” I opened my door a bit and saw a reporter and a cameraman beside the police. “Oh, and someone called the press. They’re up here right now.” I shut my door again, wondering how they all got through security to this floor.
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” I heard him clicking at a computer. “It’ll be taken care of.”
“Wait. Are you at work already? I just left you, and it’s at least a twenty minute drive to Dupont Circle from here in the morning traffic.”
“I caught the Metro. It’s faster.”
I knew better. He was lying. “I want the truth. Shawn, what’s going on?”
“I’ll see you at lunch.” He made a kissing noise into the phone, then ended the call.
I opened my door again and saw the cops, the cameraman, and the reporter being forcibly taken out of the hallway by four men dressed in black. One of the men was from the car—the one who grabbed the guy who knew my name.
“But we have to investigate,” one of the cops said.
“Freedom of the press!” the reporter yelled.
“Not here.” The man dressed in black pushed the three out the door while all my coworkers stared. Whatever was going on, Shawn knew about it. It almost seemed like he called the black suit squad of men, because they showed up right after I told him about the visitors.
The office got back to normal and I began working. I was right in the middle of studying the data on my screen when someone knocked on my door.
“Come in,” I said, never turning around from my computer. My desk faced away from the door for a reason, so no one would bug me. If they saw my face, they’d think I wanted to talk to them, especially since I was a beauty queen. I made it a point not to make close friends with the people on my floor, because they’d tell me everything about their lives, and I honestly didn’t care or want to invest the time or energy into their problems. I didn’t need to lie awake at night thinking about them, when I had my own life to deal with.
“Lauren, this is Special Agent Kirk. He’d like to talk to you.”
Turning, I saw my boss, Robby Galvin, standing next to a man dressed in black. I stood up and shook the man’s hand, then pointed to a chair at a table near my desk. “Have a seat.”
Agent Kirk glanced at my boss, who left, closing the door behind him. He sat down, looking at my screen. “Are those the CPI numbers for Congress?”
I turned and clicked on the monitor screen, turning it off, as I sat back down. “Yes, and they’re confidential until released. I don’t need to lose my job because of someone reading my monitor.”
The man tried to grin, but it was tough for him, I could see. He didn’t look used to smiling.
Going solemn, he faced me. “I’m investigating a kidnapping of one of our own right in front of your building this morning. Do you know anything about it?”
“Not really.” For some reason, I didn’t trust him.
“Well, he was following you to give you a message.”
“What sort of message?”
The man leaned closer. “Stay away from the agency. We know you’re working with a terrorist and we want you out of the picture. If we don’t get what we want, we’ll make sure you’re gone.”
“I believe that’s a threat, sir,” I said, getting to my feet. “What agency are you with, anyway?”
He stood up and reached into his pocket. If he had a gun, I was as good as dead. I stormed him, knocking him to the floor, hoping I didn’t mess up my makeup or break a nail.
“Help!” I yelled. “Man with gun!”
My door opened and the secretary stood at the doorway, packing heat herself. “Don’t move,” she said, aiming at the man’s head. “Or I’ll shoot.”
“I was just going to give her my card,” the man said to her. “How can you have a gun up here? You couldn’t have gotten it through security.”
“How did you get your gun through security?” she asked.
I loved her sense of right and wrong. Jatara was an African-American woman with street sense beyond that of the normal Washingtonian. She was raised in New York City and decided to go to D.C. because it was more crime-friendly.
“I don’t have a gun,” the man said. “I was giving Lauren a card so she could contact me.”
I got off the man’s chest and let go of my stranglehold on his wrists. “Sorry. I was sure you had a gun.”
“No. They won’t let you bring guns into this building.” Standing up, he turned toward Jatara, who had already pocketed her gun. “How did you get yours in here?”
Her hands flew to her hips. “My what?”
“Your gun?”
She glanced around her. “I don’t see no gun. Now if you don’t leave, I’ll call security and they do have guns. I’ll tell them shoot first, then ask questions later. I rule up here, mister, and I want you to leave.”
“For giving Lauren a card?”
She pointed toward the door. “Leave.”
He reached into his pocket and produced his card, handing it to me. “I want to discuss this further. Call me.”
I looked down at the white card, tempted to rip it in half and throw it at his face, but thought twice. It only had ‘Agent Kirk’ and the number listed, not mentioning his agency. If Mitch could get me a contact at the FBI, I could find out more.
“What agency are you with?” I asked him.
His face stayed solemn as he put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s a secret. Just remember, get out.” He turned and walked away, then out the door to the suite of offices. Jatara and I watched him go.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. But if any more men dressed in black suits come up here, stop them with your gun that you don’t seem to have any more.”
She smiled. “It’s fake. It’s not even real. My grandson gave it to me after 9/11 in case someone tried to get in here.”
It wasn’t funny, but I started to laugh anyway. “Stop them with the toy, then. I don’t want to be bugged, because my work is due to the bosses before the end of the week, and it’s going to take that long to get it done.”
“You got it.” She closed the door behind her and I sat back in my chair. I wasn’t sure how I’d taken the man down, because beauty queens didn’t fight. That was against the well-known world peace rule.
Not more than five minutes into making sure the data was in the proper format, my phone rang.
Whoever it was, they were going to get the royal Lauren blow-off. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” the male caller whispered. “Mitch.”
“Why are you whispering?” I caught myself whispering back and cleared my throat. “Why are you whispering?”
“I’m standing in the back of the Senate right now, and I don’t think they want to hear my conversation.”
“Walk out.”
“I can’t. It’s my job.”
“Don’t you have to go to the bathroom or something?”
He paused for a moment. “They’re taking a recess.” I heard the door open and the background noise intensified. He probably had gone into the hallway. “Okay, I have a contact name for you. He wants to see you at lunch.”
“I can’t. I have a date with Shawn.”
“Blow him off. You have a date with a hunky FBI guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can’t I just see the guy right now? That building’s not that far from here on the Metro.”
I could almost hear his head rattle as he shook it. “No. He doesn’t want you in his building for some reason. Lauren, this is serious stuff. When I mentioned your name, he got really professional and knew exactly where you worked. I tried to describe what you looked like and the guy slipped. Lauren. He knows you’re wearing black pants and a light blue top today. He also knows you’ve pulled your beautiful blonde hair up with barrettes—golden barrettes, and he knows you have blue eyes.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I could feel a chill down my spine. “I’m being watched?”
“It sounds like it.”
I couldn’t let this happen, and in true beauty queen fashion, I was going to take this on by myself. “Give me the guy’s name and number. I’m calling him right now. I don’t like this one bit.”
“His name is Lowell Miller. He’s a friend of a male secretary I know over there who owes me at least one date. It’s a shame he’s straight.”
“I don’t even want to know. Do you have Agent Miller’s direct number?”
I heard papers rattling, then someone whispering to him. “I have to go.” I grabbed a pen, poised to write on the paper in front of me. He read off the number and ended the call.
I looked at the dead phone in my hand. “Thanks, Mitch.” Reaching out, I dialed the number. I had to get this problem off my back or I’d never get the report ready for my bosses.
“Agent Miller,” he said, as soon as he answered. He sounded military, which made me sit up straight and concentrate so he wouldn’t shoot me through the phone.
“Hello. My name’s Lauren McDonald. I was told to contact you by my friend, Mitch—”
“You’re not safe. This isn’t a safe line. Meet me at the front of your building in a few minutes.” The phone went dead and I stared at it, once again. I hated thinking what I’d gotten myself into, but knew there was no getting out quickly. Beauty queens didn’t back off in the face of trouble.
Before leaving the office, I checked in with Jatara to tell her I was taking a break, then walked out. No sooner had I stepped onto the sidewalk, a man approached me and flashed his badge. “I’m Agent Miller. Come with me, Lauren.”
“How do I know for sure that badge is real?”
He opened it again and I studied it.
“Do you have an I.D.?” I asked.
“They can be faked.”
“Show it to me anyway, and I want to see your driver’s license and any family photos you have in your wallet.”
“Are you serious?”
I studied his thick wedding band. “Yep. It looks like your wife has you whipped, so show me the pictures she’s forced into your wallet.” Enough world peace. I wasn’t happy.
Pulling his wallet out of his back pocket with a sigh, he showed me his Virginia license, pictures of his wife, children and two baby grandchildren. “Satisfied now?”
“I guess so. Where did you want to talk to me?”
“My car.” He grabbed my arm, but I stayed still.
“No way. Some place public.” My cell phone rang a familiar tone, the Jingle Bells beauty queen talent song. “Hold on a minute. It’s my boyfriend and if I don’t answer it, he’ll be upset.”
The man nodded and put his hands in his pocket. I grabbed my cell and opened it. “Hi, Shawn.”
“Where are you?”
I glanced over at Agent Miller. “I’m outside. Why?”
“Who’s that man you’re with?”
I looked all around me, but didn’t see Shawn anywhere. “FBI. Why?”
“Why are you meeting with the FBI?” His voice seemed nonchalant, making me suspicious.
“Mitch fixed me up. Have a problem with that?”
“Yeah, I do. The guy’s married, and he’s definitely not your type.”
“Where are you?” I asked, looking all around. “How can you see me?”
“He can see you?” Agent Miller asked, moving his hand to his gun on the side of his chest.
Shawn sighed over the phone. “I’ll be right there. Don’t move, and tell Mr. FBI I’m coming. I don’t need to be shot.” He ended the call and I stared at the phone. From as many times as I stared at my phone that day, I had the thing memorized, with the pink glitter all over it.
“What did he say?” Agent Miller asked.
“I think he’s jealous of you. He’s on his way here right now.”
“Your boyfriend is jealous of me?”
“You don’t know Shawn.”
Agent Miller pulled out his phone. “What’s his last name?”
“Delaney.”
“How old is he?”
“He just turned 33. He lives in Annandale and works near Dupont Circle for a governmental contractor. Anything else you want to know?”
“Not yet.” He dialed a number and repeated everything to someone on the phone. “I see.” He glanced over at me. “He doesn’t exist. I should’ve guessed. Am I dealing with a ghost?”
“A ghost? I know he’s real. I just hugged him this morning.”
He nodded and returned to the phone. “Yep. I may need backup.”
“For Shawn? I don’t think so.”
The man turned his back on me, but I could hear him. “It may be a more volatile situation. Call out the SWAT team and they have just a few minutes to assemble. Pronto.”
I was in deeper than I thought.
~~~~~
Chapter 2
As soon as I saw the building surrounded with SWAT members, undercover FBI men, police officers, and six meter maids—I wasn’t sure what purpose they served—a taxi pulled up to the curb. At least the mimes were gone.
Shawn got out, paid the bill and strolled toward me with a grin, glancing around at all the people watching me. “So you called out the big guns, huh? Even meter maids?”
“It wasn’t me. But it seems you don’t exist.”
He lifted his hands into the air, looking at all the agents covering the street and on top of the roofs. “I’m getting my badge. No one shoot.”
Agent Miller nodded and Shawn got his badge and wallet from his back pocket, handing them over. “My wallet is there, too, containing my license, just so you know I’m playing by the book.”
Shawn leaned closer to me. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me.” I crossed my arms. “I was just minding my own business in my office and this guy named Agent Kirk walked in and told me to stop getting involved, threatening me.”
Both Agent Miller and Shawn stared at me with the same strange look.
“Did he tell you which agency he was with?” Agent Miller asked.
“No.” I reached in my pocket and heard some guns lift and cock all around me. I stared at all of them, raising my voice. “I’m getting his card. Relax. I’m not armed and I hate guns. It messes with world peace and not the beauty queen way.”
Shawn chuckled, but I didn’t know why. He should know better than to laugh at me.
“Go ahead,” Agent Miller said, still studying Shawn’s identification. He handed Shawn’s things back to him and shook his hand. “I’m honored to meet you.” He lifted his phone, took a step back and talked quietly to the person on the other end of the line.
As Agent Miller took the card from my hand while still on the phone, I saw the SWAT team leave, the undercover cops and police officers make a beeline for the coffee shop down the street, and the meter maids turn the corner, getting out of sight in an instant.
“I wish I had backup like that,” I muttered to Shawn. “I’d at least like the meter maids. They’re nasty and would take out those mimes.”
As soon as Agent Miller was done with his call, both Shawn and Agent Miller studied the card I’d handed to them, Agent Miller only holding it by the corners.
“Nothing,” Miller said.
“Prints,” Shawn answered.
I sighed out of frustration. “Will someone tell me what’s going on here?”
Agent Miller put the card into a plastic bag from his pocket and sealed it. “I wouldn’t worry,” he said to me. “We’ll take care of things.”
I couldn’t just do that and turn a blind eye. “No. Mitch and I are both worried that I’m going to be gunned down or something.”
“Who’s Mitch, anyway?” Agent Miller asked.
I rolled my eyes. Our tax dollars at work. “He’s the one who called your office.”
Shawn leaned closer to him, crossing his arms. “Her gay ex-husband who works for the Department of Agriculture. They’re basically two virgin girlfriends who have apartments next to each other. But in her case, that’ll change. In his case, I’m not so sure.”
“What? Are you saying I won’t be a virgin for long?”
He grinned. “I was talking about the apartment location. Want to move in with me?”
“You might have to,” Agent Miller said. “As well as the gay guy.” He turned toward Shawn. “If this is what I think it is, your work has spilled over into your private life.”
“I know. I dealt with some of it this morning already. That’s why we’re watching.”
“Huh?” I turned toward Shawn. “You owe me such an explanation, it’s not funny.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “I know. I think it’s time to quit your job and be my housekeeper or something.”
I threw his arm off my shoulder. “I don’t do menial labor.” I pointed toward my building. “This is my job, and I have a deadline for Friday or Congress doesn’t get their CPI numbers. Got that?”
Agent Miller lifted his phone, dialing a number. “I’d like to talk to Robby Galvin.”
“My boss?” I asked. “How did you get a number for my boss?”
He moved away from the receiver. “I know just about everything about you.” He listened on the phone. “This is Agent Lowell Miller with the FBI. You have an employee named Lauren McDonald working for you.” He nodded then continued. “Effective immediately, she’s resigning.”
“No!” I said. “How can you do that?”
“Yes,” Agent Miller said. “Have someone take over her work and an agent will be up to collect her things.”
I was more than frustrated. “I was working this morning on some things. It’s still on my computer.”
“You heard that?” Agent Miller said, looking up. “Want to talk to her?”
I held out my hand and he gave me the phone. “Robby, this isn’t my idea,” I said, putting the phone to my ear.
“I figured. Where’s your work?”
“Look on my computer. I was cleaning data. Any analyst can do it, but for the presentation work, you’ll have to find someone trustworthy.”
“I’ll do it myself. I’m sorry, because you’re the best employee we’ve ever had.”
“Thanks. I’m more than sorry.” I glanced over at Shawn. “It seems that no one told me I was in trouble and it has to do with the man I used to date.”
“Used to?” Shawn asked. “What about world peace?”
I nodded. “History.” I was talking about Shawn and world peace. Forget them both.
“I understand,” Robby said. “Take care, and if you ever want to come back, give me a call.”
“Thanks.” I handed the phone back to Agent Miller and crossed my arms, facing Shawn. “Fix this.”
He grinned, then wrapped his arm around my waist. “Not a problem.” He rubbed my shoulders, then lifted his hand and showed Agent Miller something on his finger. Miller nodded, took the small dot off Shawn’s finger and put it into another plastic bag. Shawn rubbed my shoulders, my back and my front for more black dots, or just to feel me out on the street in front of my business. Nothing was said until he was done.
Agent Miller nodded and walked away.
I started for the Metro station. “I’m going home to find another job. Good luck with your life.”
Shawn grabbed my arm and walked with me in the other direction, toward the corner with the brewery restaurant.
“Not so fast.” He waved and a black stretch limousine pulled up to the curb. “I need you to come with me.”
I pulled away from his arm and took a step backward. “What for? Isn’t this kidnapping?”
His hands flew to his waist. “No, because I asked nicely. I think it’s time to tell you a few things, but not out in the open and not until you’re searched. Someone had you bugged, and I intend to find out who it was.”
“Some foreplay.” I got into the car, where two other men, dressed in jeans and t-shirts, sat waiting for us. Shawn joined me and as soon as he closed the door, the three men, dressed like cheap groupies for a band, ran metal wands over me very slowly. Shawn lifted my arms and wanded my sides, while I waited. There was nothing I could do.
After they were done, which took at least ten minutes, I swear, they put their toys away and Shawn faced me. “Sweetheart, what I’m about to tell you is extremely confidential. Do you swear to never tell anything you’re about to hear?”
“Of course I do. I’ve been sworn to secrecy before and you know I can keep a secret. I had to do it since my beauty queen days.”
All three men began to laugh, making me angry. I set my chin, narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms.
“Relax,” he said, pulling my arms off my chest. “This is really important. It’s linked to national security.”
“For your contracting job?”
The other men snickered while Shawn just shook his head. “I need to explain everything to you. When I met you, I already knew who you were, where you worked and even what you weighed. I’d been watching you and had to have approval to date you. I just want you to know I chose you out of two hundred women I was allowed to date.”
“Allowed to date? What are you talking about?”
He glanced up at the other two men. “I guess I need to go back further. My employers are very picky about who we date and know. When we’re ready to get married, we have to put it in triplicate and beg for at least two years to request an inquiry to consider it.”
“What kind of business is this?”
“I’m getting to that. Regardless, you’re something special and I want you to know that. That’s why I treat you as well as I can, because this is my one shot at happiness in my personal life, and you’re worth it.”
“What if I dump you?” I crossed my arms. “Considering you’ve never told me this before, it’s a real option right now.”
“Then I have to wait two more years for an inquiry to request a different date. It’s just how things work, but don’t rule me out just yet. I chose you for a reason.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “You’re bright, beautiful, blonde, and have blue eyes, to start with. You had a perfect GPA in both high school and college with a solid personality and a real passion for helping people in need, proved by your rule for world peace.”
“Because of my pageantry background?”
He smiled at the other two men, who hid their laughter behind their hands. Shawn faced me, reining in his chuckle. “No, because you help out that loser Mitch all the time. I even knew you were marrying him, and since I’d already chosen you, it broke my heart. I put in for a new inquiry, but when the marriage was ended right after the wedding, I stopped the inquiry. That chance meeting in the coffee shop wasn’t chance. I knew you’d be there, because we have surveillance all over the nation’s capital. My coworkers even cheered me on, because they knew this was my one chance.”
“My first day back after my honeymoon, too. You didn’t wait a moment, did you?”
“No. I waited too long before, and you ran off and got married. I should’ve seen the signs, but knew Mitch was gay, so didn’t consider him a threat. I was trying to figure out a great way to meet you, because I was told by my staff that a first impression is the most important. When you annulled the marriage, I told them all off and waited for you to go out of your building that first day after you got back. I was ready to meet you anywhere, even the ladies’ room in Union Station, if need be.”
“So what does this have to do with today? Why did Agent Kirk come to my office to see me?” I leaned closer to his adorable face. “Is this because I’m beautiful?”
He grinned. “You are beautiful. What exactly happened when he came to see you?” He touched the back of my neck.
I thought back, my eyes going toward the floor. I couldn’t stop the playback in my head, repeating everything I thought. “My boss brought the man to my office, identifying him as Special Agent Kirk. He was dressed in a black suit with a gray tie, pretty innocuous and boring. He had a gray military cut with brown eyes and a scar on his chin, measuring about four centimeters in length. I shook his hand and asked him to take a seat. He looked at my computer monitor and asked me if those were the CPI numbers for Congress. It was just raw data, so I knew he couldn’t make money off the stock market, but I turned off the monitor anyway. I told him yes, they were confidential until released and I didn’t need to lose my job because of someone reading my monitor.
“He couldn’t smile. He told me he was investigating a kidnapping of one of his own right in front of my building that morning and asked if I knew anything about it. I told him ‘not really,’ because I didn’t trust him. He said the man was following me to give me a message, to stay away from the agency. He said he knew I was working with a terrorist and they wanted me out of the picture. If they don’t get what they want, they’ll make sure I’m gone. I told him that was a threat and asked what agency he was with. He reached into his pocket and I thought it was a gun, so I jumped him and sat on him on the floor, calling for help.
“Our secretary ran in, holding a gun and told the guy not to move or she’d shoot. He said he was going to give me his card, then asked how Jatara could have a gun in our building. She couldn’t have gotten through security. She asked how he had a gun and he said he didn’t, that he was just giving me a card. Jatara put her gun in her pocket and he asked how she had a gun. She said ‘what gun’ and told him to leave or she’d call security and they do have guns. She’d tell them to shoot first, then ask questions later. She rules up there, and she wanted him to leave. He handed me the card, put his hand on my shoulder, then told me to call him because he wants to discuss it further. I asked him what agency he was with and he said it was a secret, and to get out. He walked out the door and Jatara and I watched him go. She asked me what that was about, and I told her if any more men dressed in black suits come to our office, stop them with the gun you don’t have. She said it was a toy from her grandson—”
“That’s good,” Shawn said, moving his hand back to my neck.
I looked up. “What just happened?”
“He hypnotized you to have a photographic memory,” the man on the right said. He reached out and I shook his hand. “My name’s Bill and this is Will.”
“Bill and Will?” They looked very similar, with dark curly hair, dark eyes and no chin. Bill had a bigger nose, but not by much. “You’ll be hard to tell apart.”
“We get that a lot,” Bill said. “Just say ‘Ill’ and we’ll both answer.”
“Yeah, it would make me sick, too.”
Both men looked confused.
“Ill? Sick?” They shook their heads, still puzzled. “Oh, never mind.” I turned back to Shawn. “So did I tell you everything?”
He grabbed the notes one of the ‘ill’ men had been taking and looked it over. “Yes. And as soon as the FBI tells us what prints were on that card, we’ll know the identity of Agent Kirk.”
“Why would he say something like that to me?” I asked.
Shawn looked up at Bill and Will, shaking his head. “I have to tell her.”
“Not until you’re married,” Will said. “Those are the rules.”
“He’s our lawyer,” Shawn whispered, pointing to Will. “Everything by the book with that guy.”
I nodded. “Marriage? So I don’t find out anything until I go back to Vegas and go shopping again?”
The ‘ill’ brothers, cousins, or whatever they were, both laughed. “Shopping on your honeymoon for fun,” Will said. “That was hilarious to watch.”
I turned toward Shawn. “You watched me on my honeymoon?”
“You were chosen. What did you expect?”
I turned away from him, looking out the window. “This is just too weird for me.”
He touched my chin with his fingers, turning my face toward him. “Do you love me?”
“Of course I love you. I’m upset, but not ready to walk away. No man’s ever treated me as well as you treat me and loves me for who I am.”
His lips met mine for a moment, then he backed away, his eyes mere inches from mine. “Do you trust me?”
I studied his face, then crossed my arms. “Trust is a two-way street. If you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on, how can I trust you?”
“I can’t, by order of the President. You know how you have things you can’t tell at your job?”
“Sure. The CPI numbers. If I tell, I lose my job and might be thrown in jail, because of possible speculation on the stock market.”
“Well, if I tell anyone not cleared, I not only lose my job, I lose my life.”
“You’re being a bit melodramatic, aren’t you?” I asked.
All three men shook their heads.
“The death penalty,” he whispered. “It’s not as much fun as it looks on TV.”
“All right, assuming everything else you’ve told me is true, that you love me and you’ll always be there for me, then yes. I trust you.”
“And all of that is true. I love you and will always be there for you.” He kissed me again, then reached into his pocket and produced a small black velvet box, opening it to a diamond. “Marry me?”
I stared at it for a moment, the diamond glistening in the sunshine coming through the window, then looked up at him. “Marry you? What would I do all day long? I have no job and can’t even pay any bills.”
All three men started to laugh.
As soon as Shawn stopped laughing, he faced me. “I forgot to tell you something. One thing we have to have when we look for a spouse is someone who can fit the company profile. You’ll be working with me, if you want to.”
“You? I’d be married to you and would work with you? Are you nuts? We’d kill each other. World peace would go out the window.”
He grinned slightly, looking up at the ‘ill’ twins. “The one weakness.”
“Yep,” Will said. “We thought it might be a problem.”
“What weakness?” I asked. These men were just annoying.
“Worry.” Shawn shook his head. “Take it one day at a time, and we’ll worry about it later.” He looked down at the yellow golden ring, still in the box in his hand. “Can you find it in your heart to marry me?”
When his eyes met mine, I knew the answer. His very blue eyes cried out to me, begging me to marry him. Yeah, I loved the guy, but I also thought I’d loved Mitch once. I should’ve seen Mitch’s fascination with entertainment news and channels and knowing labels on clothing—but I was blind. Was I also blind to Shawn’s faults? I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.
“What if it doesn’t work out?” I asked.
“We divorce and you’re put under lock and key in a relocation house.”
“When am I allowed out?” I asked.
Shawn glanced at the ‘ill’ brothers then looked at me. “Never.”
“But nothing happens to you?”
“I’m not allowed to marry again, and I get pushed to the bottom of the totem pole, with a desk job for twenty years.”
“Oh.” I had to figure this out. “What other faults do you have that I don’t know about? Do you like women’s clothing and can you find better deals on bikini underwear than I can?”
He laughed aloud, sitting back on the seat. “The only time I’d get women’s clothing is if it were for work or for you. I don’t make a habit of cross-dressing. According to my file, my faults include being overly cautious, slightly thrifty, and lacking all fashion sense.” He looked down at his clothing. “This was picked out by our secretary for me to wear. Does that help?”
I turned toward the ‘ill’ brothers. “Do you know of anything he’s missing?”
“No,” Will said. “And he was psychoanalyzed by our psychiatrists, half of them female, to see if he’d be a suitable mate. They all deemed him worthy, and one psychiatrist wanted him to take her out, even though she’s already married.”
Shawn nodded. “Marcie. She was something else. She even knew I had my eye on you and that would never change.”
I had to think this through. “Let’s say we get married. Can I keep my friends and stay in touch with my family?”
“Yes, for the ones who check out,” Bill said. “In your case, you don’t have anyone in your history who’s considered a threat. Whenever you want to make new friends, it has to be cleared with our company first.”
“Including Mitch? Does he check out?”
Will leaned closer. “He’s very solid, believe it or not.”
“I’m not sure I believe that one.” I turned toward Shawn again. “When?”
“Now.”
“Now? But I have an apartment full of stuff to go through and bills to pay. I can’t afford a wedding right now.”
He checked his watch. “It’s done.”
“What’s done?”
He smiled at the ‘ill’ brothers. “Everything. Your apartment is bare right now, and all your things have been either stored or put into my place.”
“Your place? But my apartment’s bigger.”
He grinned. “Relax. Your bills have been paid, even the credit card that you’re only making minimum payments on. Everything’s done, and your bags are packed. It all comes down to this one question.” He moved closer to my face. “Lauren McDonald, will you marry me? Your job will be fun and you’ll get to spend the rest of your life in luxury with a sexy husband who loves you more than life itself.”
I swallowed hard. “Well, since you put it like that, I’d say yes. I will marry you. But before we go to work, can we have a honeymoon? I like the sexy idea.” I grinned and winked. “I’m ready to leave the innocent beauty queen behind and become a wife.”
He slid the ring onto my finger. “We have a day for our honeymoon, because we have to figure out who’s after you.” He pressed a button on the side of the limo. “To the company jet. We’re headed out to get married.”
The driver chuckled. “Yes, sir.”
The ‘ill’ brothers shook our hands and Shawn pulled me in for a kiss, then backed away, resting his forehead on mine. “Good choice. I promise you’ll be happier than you’ve ever been. You’ll also be safe.”
“Thank you.” I turned toward Bill. “So Mitch is solid?”
“Very solid. We’ve been listening to him a lot, but that’s a secret.”