Actual Stop (30 page)

“What time?” I wanted to claw my own eyes out. If staying in one place for only a couple of hours bored me this much, the rest of this visit would really be rough. I still had at least six days of this fiasco left.

“He’s getting ready to move now.”

“He’ll be walking over, I presume?”

“That’s the plan. The cars are going to relocate out here on Lex once he’s inside. They’ll probably pull right in front of you, actually, so they’re stacked for the next movement.”

“Okay.” I eyed the empty street in front of my car as I attempted to size up the space and mentally calculate whether the necessary part of the motorcade would fit there or whether I should back up my car to make room. I was a little close to the door they’d be using. The pertinent cars probably wouldn’t fit if I didn’t move. But first, I had a question. “Do they want me to come in and shadow them for the walk? Or do they want me to wait out here?”

Anna’s expression turned thoughtful. “Good question. Kyle didn’t say. Do you want me to ask him?”

“Nah. That’s okay. I’ll do it. Thanks, Anna.”

“No problem. Have fun. I have to get back up to the security room.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need me to bring you anything.”

Anna held up a white plastic bag. “I just grabbed some food. I’m all set, thanks.”

She turned to go and almost ran into a middle-aged gentleman approaching my car with some sort of purpose. He seemed determined, and his posture radiated focused intent.

Anna stiffened and took a step back, creating distance between her and the man. She shifted her right arm so her forearm brushed the butt of her weapon and put her little bag on the ground, which freed her hands. I presumed this was in case he broke bad on us and started a brawl right here on the street. I’d always found her to be serious and intense, but this was taking it to a whole new level.

“Can I help you?” I asked the man, flashing him a smile.

His gray eyes flicked from Anna to me, and he appeared angry, though I couldn’t imagine what could’ve set him off.

“Who’s here?” he demanded, his voice gruff, his words clipped.

Ah. Now I understood the problem. But I played dumb. “I’m sorry?”

I could see the man’s demeanor made Anna bristle, but I kept my tone pleasant and light. We were trained to establish rapport with the public, and I took that training to heart. It was an especially good idea when you considered how readily people called the office to tattle on us if they thought we’d treated them with anything less than total professionalism and respect.

He gestured to the police checkpoints and officers scattered all over the nearby corner, as if to emphasize his point. “I want to know who’s here.”

“You mean besides us?” I asked. I didn’t often play the bimbo, but occasionally I found it necessary. It tended to put guys like this off guard.

The man rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated, but his apparent anger seemed to have ebbed. Chalking up his small change to my acting skills, I turned up the wattage on my smile and ran my hands through my hair, brushing it back off my shoulders.

“Yeah, besides us. This whole mess is seriously screwing with my commute. You and your checkpoints and road closures. I work my ass off. My taxes pay your salary! I have a right to know what you’re doing here.”

I wanted to laugh aloud but was careful not to. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that take on my chosen career. The notion never failed to amuse me. “Well, I pay taxes, too, so does that make me self-employed?”

The man frowned, but before the discussion could go even further south, I made a show of looking around and motioned him closer. He leaned in toward my window, forcing Anna to take another step back in order to maintain a safe distance between them.

“Have you ever heard of the Marshall Islands?” I asked him.

He blinked and eyed me almost suspiciously. I merely continued to smile up at him. Finally, he shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”

I spread my hands out in front of me and shrugged, allowing my smile to grow.

“Lot of pomp and circumstance for nothing,” the man muttered to himself as he abruptly turned his back on me and stalked away.

“Why did you tell him that?” Anna wanted to know.

“Tell him what?”

“That we were working the Marshall Islands.”

“I didn’t actually tell him anything. I asked him a question. It’s not my fault he assumed it was the answer he was looking for.”

“Okay, so why’d you ask him that?”

“Why not?”

“It’s none of his business who we’re protecting. You shouldn’t have to answer him at all.”

“No, of course it isn’t his business. But he was looking for some sort of answer, and I didn’t think he’d go away until he got one. I merely killed two birds with one stone. I preserved OpSec by not actually telling him who was here, and I got him to leave, which was my ultimate goal.”

Anna’s expression turned thoughtful. “Is the Marshall Islands a real place?”

“Yeah, it’s a chain of islands in the Pacific between Hawaii and Australia. They were my first lead when I got out of the academy.”

“What if you’re actually guarding the Marshall Islands? What will you say then?”

I paused in my reply to pay attention to the radio traffic, which was announcing that the delegation was moving to the elevators. “I’ll pick another country I don’t think anyone has ever heard of. Mauritius or something.”

Anna waved good-bye as she hustled back toward the Waldorf. I hopped out of the car and stretched a little. Slowly, I ambled to the corner of four-nine, gazing around, checking out the foot traffic on the street. I’d made the executive decision to wait for the delegation right there, smack in the middle of the walking route. The president had his entire shift with him. I didn’t need to jump into the middle of all that chaos. I’d serve the detail better by remaining where I was and warning them if anything nefarious cropped up.

A minute or two later, Kyle Taggert, the lead advance agent for the visit, popped out of the Waldorf and started heading toward the corner of 49th and Lex where I was lingering. He was scowling darkly and shook his head when he saw me.

“Rough day, Kyle?” I asked softly as he neared. The rest of the delegation was about fifteen steps behind him. I did a quick check up and down the block, looking for trouble. People gawked a little—they always did when we went anywhere with anyone, as we aren’t exactly a discreet bunch—but no one seemed particularly interested in approaching the gaggle, which made me happy. One of the many perks of working in New York.

“Dude, this sucks,” Kyle muttered as he strode past.

I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my grin and turned slightly so I was facing north looking up Lexington Avenue and had my back to the procession and my eyes on the opposite side of the street. Keeping my eyes off the front door to The W was a Herculean feat, and I’m afraid I didn’t manage it as well as I’d have liked. But after a long moment, the din of activity and motion behind me subsided, and a glance over my shoulder confirmed what I suspected; everyone was inside. Now the waiting game began anew until departure.

My BlackBerry vibrated on my belt, and I gritted my teeth. I almost never got good news on that thing. I doubted that now, smack-dab in the middle of the Iran visit, the trend would suddenly change. It was much more likely that whoever was on the other end was about to throw my world into bedlam, and I wasn’t in the mood for the complete destruction of my already crumbling world.

“O’Connor.”

“Hey,” a low voice murmured in my ear, sending shivers up my spine.

My heart raced, and my stomach flailed around like a cartoon character walking across hot pavement. I eyed the motorcade cars as they rolled slowly by, so they could position for the departure. “Hey.”

“Are you working right now?” Allison wanted to know.

“Yeah, but the delegation just went into a meeting, so I have a few minutes.” I hesitated as I cast around for something to say, my eyes drawn back to The W completely against my will. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

I was alternating between hot and cold and was light-headed. She’d called. I couldn’t believe she’d actually called. I was thrilled. I was terrified. I also had no idea what I wanted to tell her.

“So,” Allison said after a long pause. “Are you still mad at me?”

“What? I was never mad at you.” I shifted my attention back to the cars. There’d been ample room for the limo in front of my car, but the Follow-Up was double-stacked next to me. I sighed and ambled over slowly.

“Really?” She sounded skeptical. “So you never answered my text because you’ve been too busy?”

“You texted me?” I rapped forcefully on the driver’s side window to the Follow-Up. “Hang on a second, Allison.” I rested the phone against my chest to muffle the sounds of my conversation.

Bill Steelman, an agent in our office who I didn’t want to deal with on a good day, looked surprised. He cracked the door a little so he’d be able to hear me. “Yeah?”

“Do you need me to back up so you can stack behind the limo?”

He shook his head. “Nah. We’re okay here.”

“You sure? I don’t mind.”

“No, you’re fine.”

“Okay.” I turned my back on him and returned the phone to my ear. “I’m sorry, Allison. You were saying something about texting me?”

“Yeah. I did. The day I flew back to D.C.”

“I didn’t get a text from you. Oh, shit!” My intestines performed a few spectacular backflips as it finally dawned on me what’d happened. “You texted my personal phone, didn’t you?”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to email you on your work phone.”

I closed my eyes and scrubbed the middle of my forehead with the palm of my hand. “I don’t have my personal phone.”

“Did you lose it?”

“Not exactly. Someone else has it. I’m sorry. I didn’t get your text. I would’ve answered if I had.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, now I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t. I’ve been spending the past few days wondering if you were upset with me, too.”

“No, Ryan. I’m not upset with you.”

“Good.”

“But I do think we need to talk.”

My heart tried to climb into my lungs. Not that I didn’t agree with her. I did. We had a lot to work out. But in my experience, those words never preceded anything good. “Okay. Now?”

“No. Not right now. We need to have this talk face-to-face.”

“Ah.” That didn’t make me feel any better.

“Do you think maybe we could try to set something up for when I get back?”

“Sure. Where are you?”

“I’m doing an advance in Hong Kong.”

“Nice. I’ve never been. How is it?”

“It’s okay. Busy.” Allison paused. “I’m ready to come home.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I—I’m here for two weeks.”

“Well, I’m pretty wrapped up with this visit for the next week or so, anyway. So that works out.”

“It does.”

“So…uh…what time is it there?” I closed my eyes and smacked myself on the thigh with the side of my fist. I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. I was such an idiot.

“I think we’re—” Allison broke off, and I heard some sort of commotion on her end of the phone. “Hang on a second.”

“Sure.” I waited as she covered the receiver so she could talk to someone. I could hear muffled bits of conversation but not enough to make out what they were discussing.

A few moments later she was back. “Ryan? I’m really sorry. I have to go.”

I was disappointed, of course, but I understood. “That’s okay. I’ll talk to you soon. Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

Though we’d left things between us up in the air, my smile lingered long after I hung up. This day wasn’t shaping up to be half bad. Speaking to Allison for even two minutes had completely altered my perspective. Wow. Some things never changed. Even our impending talk didn’t dampen my mood. It was extremely likely I wouldn’t like whatever she had to say, but I refused to let that possibility bring me down. I was floating.

An all-too-familiar voice behind me spoke. “Ryan?”

I tensed. My blood ran cold, and my heart suddenly plummeted from its previous Allison-induced heights to land somewhere in the vicinity of my knees. Clearly, I’d spoken too soon. I turned around very slowly.

“Luce.”

Lucia stood a few feet away from me with the strangest expression. I couldn’t read it, and, frankly, I was too tired to even try. She didn’t look happy, though I had no idea what her current mood was.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised to see her.

Lucia’s eyes narrowed, and she studied me with an unnerving intensity. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable moment, she jerked her thumb in the direction of the front of the motorcade where I knew the NYPD intel car sat idling along the curb several cars ahead of mine. “I was asked to fill in.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell thick and heavy between us, and I rubbed my palms against the legs of my pants. My insides twitched, and I bit my lower lip nervously, unsure what to say. This was unbelievably awkward. I wanted to ask her whether she was filling in just for today or if she had to work this detail for the remainder of the visit, but I was as afraid of her reaction to the question as I was of her answer. I just kept quiet.

I’d been incredibly busy with the numerous interviews, typing my PI report, and all the prep work for the visit. Not to mention being tied up in knots over Allison. I’d become completely wrapped up in everything, and while I’d meant to meet Lucia to switch our phones, I’d somehow never gotten around to it.

Of course, some people would speculate I’d purposely put off the meeting because I’d been dreading, well, this…the moment where Lucia and I stood face-to-face and our inevitable strained interaction. I’d had no illusions we could fix what’d happened or we’d ever be able to get back together, but the thought of us having one last, stilted conversation brought the situation into sharp focus. It solidified the end of our relationship, made it seem more final somehow, and I hadn’t been eager to rush that reality check.

But here we were, tongue-tied and avoiding all but the most fleeting traces of eye contact, as we stood motionless on a New York City street corner. This situation resembled a cheesy Hollywood movie, and the notion made me unbelievably sad.