brother?”
His eyes give away the emotion he is feeling. “He is alive.”
I nod, understanding. What else is there?
Condensation drizzles off the side of his untouched glass of water. It is obvious he has been here awhile and has not ordered. For a place so busy, I am surprised the waitress isn’t haranguing him. “How much did you bribe the waitress to leave you alone?”
His lips twitch. “No bribe. I tipped her when I sat.”
“Must have been a damn good tip.”
He laughs and the sound is good to hear.
His hands are hidden under the table, out of sight, reminding me of an old western and making me wonder if he has a gun trained on the front door. I reach across the Formica, hoping he will take the hint that I need to touch him. Leaving one hand hidden, he puts the other in mine and the solid warmth of his palm is a balm to my soul.
“I need you to run an errand for me.”
“There are a dozen people in this town you could ask favors of.”
“Not. This.”
His gaze holds mine an extra long minute, his intensity a worry. Wishing I could lie to him, I say, “I would do anything for you.”
Reaching inside his coat, he retrieves a checkbook, driver’s license, and social security card. Taking the items from him, I see the name on all three reads Blaire Harrington but it is my face on the license. No. No, no, no, no, no! Do not ask me to runaway with you. Please. My hand trembles as I look the items over. In addition, he hands me a business card advertising a real estate agent. It has her photo on it.
“I need you to meet with this real estate agent and buy a property. The address is noted on the back of the card.”
As if I don’t believe him, I turn the card over. An Artist District address is written in his hand. It can’t be more than a block or two from Lewd Larry’s.
“It’s a foreclosure. The asking price is nine hundred thousand.”
I look at him stupidly.
“Pretend to negotiate. Offer seven-fifty.” He assures me, “There’s more than enough money in the account to cover the full price, but I don’t want you to appear overly eager. The most important thing is to close the deal. All the paperwork can be taken care of in-house today. As soon as you have the keys, call me using this cell.” He hands me a phone. “It’s registered to Blaire, remember that. You are Blaire. The number I want you to use to contact me is programmed as work . Do you understand?”
“Tell me you don’t have time to explain all the cloak and daggers to me, Thomas, so that I can walk out of here and not look back.” Issuing what amounts to an ultimatum, my heart is pounding so hard I think it will explode. Is this his every day workday? Always pretending to be someone else?
“Nikos is going to need a safe place to live. No one looks at eccentric creative types too closely.”
I snort. “Is that what you think? Because you stand out, even in this getup.”
He smiles patiently. “Only you see me .”
I tap the business card on the tabletop nervously. I know the address. He’s right, eccentric about covers it.
“And…the sooner I have my brother established someplace safe, the sooner we can be together.”
“Do you think your cover here has been blown?” We’ve never discussed what he does for a living, and right now no one could convince me otherwise of my suspicions. Undercover cop. Spy. Assassin. Mercenary. He is something and to deny that would be ludicrous.
“It hasn’t.”
“Do you honestly believe I won’t be followed?”
“I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way. Right now, no one is looking for Nikos in the United States. I want to make certain I have him well hidden if anyone ever does.”
I tuck all of the documents into my bag. “I can’t keep this a secret from Garrett.”
“You can. You must.”
I shake my head, not liking that he has put this responsibility on my shoulders. Garrett could have done this for him. George. The man who was just sitting here. Unless he is
His eyes give away the emotion he is feeling. “He is alive.”
I nod, understanding. What else is there?
Condensation drizzles off the side of his untouched glass of water. It is obvious he has been here awhile and has not ordered. For a place so busy, I am surprised the waitress isn’t haranguing him. “How much did you bribe the waitress to leave you alone?”
His lips twitch. “No bribe. I tipped her when I sat.”
“Must have been a damn good tip.”
He laughs and the sound is good to hear.
His hands are hidden under the table, out of sight, reminding me of an old western and making me wonder if he has a gun trained on the front door. I reach across the Formica, hoping he will take the hint that I need to touch him. Leaving one hand hidden, he puts the other in mine and the solid warmth of his palm is a balm to my soul.
“I need you to run an errand for me.”
“There are a dozen people in this town you could ask favors of.”
“Not. This.”
His gaze holds mine an extra long minute, his intensity a worry. Wishing I could lie to him, I say, “I would do anything for you.”
Reaching inside his coat, he retrieves a checkbook, driver’s license, and social security card. Taking the items from him, I see the name on all three reads Blaire Harrington but it is my face on the license. No. No, no, no, no, no! Do not ask me to runaway with you. Please. My hand trembles as I look the items over. In addition, he hands me a business card advertising a real estate agent. It has her photo on it.
“I need you to meet with this real estate agent and buy a property. The address is noted on the back of the card.”
As if I don’t believe him, I turn the card over. An Artist District address is written in his hand. It can’t be more than a block or two from Lewd Larry’s.
“It’s a foreclosure. The asking price is nine hundred thousand.”
I look at him stupidly.
“Pretend to negotiate. Offer seven-fifty.” He assures me, “There’s more than enough money in the account to cover the full price, but I don’t want you to appear overly eager. The most important thing is to close the deal. All the paperwork can be taken care of in-house today. As soon as you have the keys, call me using this cell.” He hands me a phone. “It’s registered to Blaire, remember that. You are Blaire. The number I want you to use to contact me is programmed as work . Do you understand?”
“Tell me you don’t have time to explain all the cloak and daggers to me, Thomas, so that I can walk out of here and not look back.” Issuing what amounts to an ultimatum, my heart is pounding so hard I think it will explode. Is this his every day workday? Always pretending to be someone else?
“Nikos is going to need a safe place to live. No one looks at eccentric creative types too closely.”
I snort. “Is that what you think? Because you stand out, even in this getup.”
He smiles patiently. “Only you see me .”
I tap the business card on the tabletop nervously. I know the address. He’s right, eccentric about covers it.
“And…the sooner I have my brother established someplace safe, the sooner we can be together.”
“Do you think your cover here has been blown?” We’ve never discussed what he does for a living, and right now no one could convince me otherwise of my suspicions. Undercover cop. Spy. Assassin. Mercenary. He is something and to deny that would be ludicrous.
“It hasn’t.”
“Do you honestly believe I won’t be followed?”
“I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way. Right now, no one is looking for Nikos in the United States. I want to make certain I have him well hidden if anyone ever does.”
I tuck all of the documents into my bag. “I can’t keep this a secret from Garrett.”
“You can. You must.”
I shake my head, not liking that he has put this responsibility on my shoulders. Garrett could have done this for him. George. The man who was just sitting here. Unless he is
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