“It is so good to see you.” He hugged her tightly, then pulled back and cupped her cheeks, looking her over. “You have cut your hair.”
Evie nodded, smiling. She’d chopped it into a layered, shoulder-length bob a few days earlier, unable to handle how hot her waist-length hair made her feel in the humidity. She loved how simple her hair routine had become, how it complemented her round face, and how the layers took the heaviness away. “Like it?”
He ran his fingers through it with a smirk, tousling it playfully. “It suits you very well, and I cannot say I will miss all the random long hairs I usually find after you visit me.”
She batted his hand away and smoothed the chaos he’d made of her hair. “Yeah, I don’t miss that either.” Taking his hand, she sat down, gave a light tug to get him to sit beside her, then cuddled into his side.
“How was your assignment?”
“It took much longer than I anticipated,” he admitted, stretching his legs out and making himself comfortable. “I originally suggested six weeks to give myself ample time, but I expected to be back in three. This group was much more organized and had more support than anyone realized.”
“Luckily, it wasn’t so much an assassination plot as a plan to remove my client from his position by any means necessary. Their death wasn’t the goal, but it wasn’t off the table either.” He continued, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on Evie’s shoulder.
“You said it was someone in their inner circle. Did you find out who it was?” Thorn was the only one who would give her any details of his assignments. He never went into anything sensitive, but he always shared enough to give her a general idea, enjoying her fascination with the way he operated and, she suspected, getting a small ego boost from how impressed she was by his intelligence-gathering skills.
He nodded. “I figured out it was the spouse leaking information. They weren’t directly involved in anything, just venting about their marriage to the wrong people. Given the client’s high position and very left-leaning policies, it was extremely embarrassing. A quiet investigation is underway now.”
“Wow.” Evie shook her head, grateful she wasn’t important enough to ever deal with something like that. “Why did it take longer than you thought?”
“I was told there was a potential assassination attempt, which had me looking in the wrong direction at first. I did look into the spouse, close friends, and family, but there was nothing tying them to anything. So I shifted to the wider circle, which meant more people to sift through.” He reached up and messed up her hair again.
“Hairdressers and barbers are great sources of information. Every four to six weeks, you spend hours with someone, share your life with them, and then forget about them until your next appointment.”
Evie stared at him, disbelief washing over her. “No way, you did not figure things out based on the spouse’s hair appointments.”
Thorn let out a low chuckle and lifted a shoulder. A faintly smug look crossed his face. “It was an example.” He leaned forward and picked up the bag from the coffee table. “Here, I brought you something.”
She took the bag, giving him a faintly amused look. He insisted on bringing her little things from his work trips. Trinkets he thought she might like, sweets he knew she’d inhale, or pens and notebooks to feed her addiction to pretty stationery.
“You really don’t have to bring me something every time you go away, you know.” She admonished him gently as she opened the bag and pulled out a tissue-paper-wrapped object. “I’m not complaining, and I don’t want you to stop, but I hope you don’t feel like I expect a present to make up for your absence.”
“I do not look for things for you.” He stood and headed toward the kitchen. “But if I see something I know you will like, I cannot help myself.”
Evie grinned, peeling back the tissue paper to reveal a small, intricately carved wooden bear. “Oh my gosh, this is adorable.” She held it up, turning it over to admire the details that had been painstakingly carved into the wood. The fur texture looked soft enough to touch, the face was startlingly realistic, and the age-darkened scratches told her it was an antique crafted by a master.
Thorn returned to the couch with the bottle of Sprite she always kept stocked for him, a pleased smile settling on his face. “I know how much you love animals that could kill you with a swipe of their paw, and figured you would like it.”
“Thorn, this must have cost a small fortune.” She looked up at him, affection rushing through her. “You really shouldn’t have.”
“I am sure it probably would fetch a small fortune.” He opened the bottle and took a sip. “But it was given to me as a small expression of thanks by the client for preventing the scandal that would have happened if their spouse's poor judgment had been exposed.”
“They just happened to give you an antique carving that I would love?” She raised her eyebrow at him, not quite sure she believed his story, knowing how often he deflected when she questioned how much he spent on her.
“They gave me two, actually. Their great-grandfather carved them in the late 1890s.” He explained, taking it from her and running his fingers over it delicately. “They had about a dozen different carved animals in a glass cabinet in their office that I would frequently look at while they were in meetings, including a much larger owl with its wings spread and claws outstretched like it was coming in for a kill. They offered that one to me, but I asked for the bear.” He smiled and passed it back to her. “So, they gave me both.”
Evie looked down at the bear in her hand. If the owl were done with even half the precision and detail as the bear, it would easily be worth a couple of thousand euros. “They must have been very, very, very grateful then.”
“Oh yes, image and family life play a significant role in Germany when you have power.” Thorn inclined his head slightly. “Having it come out that your spouse was passing on information to a far-right extremist group, even accidentally, would have destroyed their career.”
He cleared his throat. “Speaking of careers, before I left, I spoke with Tommy about switching to Consulting. He was not exactly happy, but he agreed it was the best place for me. Even admitted he was putting off discussing it with me because he did not want to add the Security Services back to his plate.”
Evie leaned forward and set the bear on the coffee table. “That’s great! How long before you make the switch?”
“He asked me to stay in the director role until January and put together a short list of potential candidates to take over. We will let them know they have been chosen on Monday, giving them until July 31st to decide whether to remain in consideration or drop out. Then we will start assessing them for the role in August, announcing who will get the promotion after the new year.”
“Five months of assessments?” Evie tilted her head, confused. “Why?”
“Mostly because I am so heavily involved in all aspects of the division. We won’t expect that from the successful candidate. Instead, we will create several leadership roles across the different areas to help ease the amount of work the director needs to do.” He rested his arm on the back of the couch behindher head as he explained, leaning back as he got comfortable again.
