Will:Then I’m tying you to the bed
Will:Just keep that in mind as you’re dealing with this fool
Shannon:Wow. That actually helped.
Will:Surprised?
Shannon:No…I don’t know. Maybe.
Will:Also, I’m making lasagna.
Smiling, I swiped through my contacts until I found the one I needed. I’d been putting off this call—and a few others—for weeks, but I was ready. The pieces were coming together, and I knew what I wanted now.
“Halsted,” Kaisall shouted when he answered. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve been shopping my offer with the way you’re dodging calls.”
“But you know better,” I chuckled.
Kaisall and I connected shortly before the visit to San Diego, and he shared plans to overhaul his firm, Redtop. He wanted to continue taking high-profile security details—gotta pay the bills—while branching out into kidnapping and smuggling cases, hostage negotiations, and the occasional clandestine task. In order to execute on this, he was reorganizing the company’s structure.
“Are we getting into bed together?” he asked. Sounds of the airport accompanied his voice. Travel dominated his life, and it suited him. He liked the thrill of chasing down contacts and clients, and being in the know. “All toasty warm for me yet?”
He needed someone in the command center; someone who could watch all the pieces on the chessboard and make the right moves. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it. The work was still important, even when it included running background checks on an heiress’s boyfriend of the month, and there was plenty of it.
“There’s a strong possibility, yeah,” I said.
“That’s going to piss the special warfare command right off,” he said. Flight announcements drowned him out, and he paused before continuing. “How long’s it been for you? Two, three months now? You need to get back in the action. I bet you’re playingCall of Dutyat three in the morning and yelling ‘hooyah’ at the screen.”
That was partially true. I missed the strategic nature of planning operations and working through variables, but I didn’t miss a war with no end in sight, bullets flying at my head, meals in vacuum-sealed pouches, or the thousands of miles between me and the woman I loved.
“Let me sort through a few more issues this week,” I said. “We’ll go from there.”
“You say that like you haven’t already decided that we’re going to be the best team in private defense contracting. This is the start of a long, profitable marriage,” he said. Another flight announcement trilled through the line. “That’s me. Talk soon, partner.”
When we disconnected, I saw another message waiting. I wasn’t ready to dump this information on Shannon yet. Given my contemplative mood, she’d launch right into problem solving mode, and I wasn’t adding another issue on her plate. I’d think it all over this afternoon, and we’d take this to the next step.
Shannon:Does it make me old and boring because I want to stay in, eat lasagna and drink wine, and watch The Sopranos with you on a Friday night?
Will:No, but you forgot about being tied to the bed and fucked straight through to Saturday
Shannon:The whole package works for me
Will:Let’s go to the beach tomorrow
Shannon:You’re in New England now, commando. It’s December.
Shannon:Beach season is over
Will:We can go for a walk
Will:I need some time near the ocean
Shannon:We jogged through the Waterfront this morning.
Will:That doesn’t count. That’s the bay. The harbor. I want a beach with dunes, sand, waves.
Will:Being in the city isn’t even close to the same.
Shannon:Ok, ok, relax, we’ll get you a beach
