I’m in too deep.
And I’m not sure I want to find my way out.
CHAPTER 17
MIA
The safe housesmells like Bayo’s burnt toast and stale coffee, and right now, it’s the most comforting combination in the world.
I made it down from 30 Rock thanks to a group of drunk twentysomethings who’d bribed their way onto the observation deck for an after-hours party. They found me huddled in Vanguard’s jacket, mascara smeared, hair a disaster, looking like a picture from the Walk of Shame Hall of Fame. One of the girls—bless her heart—just handed me a glass of champagne and said, “Men are trash, babe. You deserve better.”
If only she knew.
From there, I took the elevator down, slipped out through a service entrance, and grabbed the first cab I could get. The driver took one look at me in the rearview mirror and wisely chose not to comment.
Now, I’m sitting on the lumpy sofa in our SOE hideout, wrapped in a blanket that smells faintly of mothballs while Kat and Bayo stare at me like I’ve grown a second head.
The silence isexcruciating.
“Soooooo,” Bayo finally says, his voice carefully neutral. “Interesting turn of events.”
“You heard,” I say, panic coursing through me.
I want to die. I want the floor to open and swallow me whole.
“Miss Mia.” Bayo pinches the bridge of his nose. “I heardeverything. Every single sound. In excruciating detail.” He shudders. “There are things I can never unhear, things that are burned into my brain forever. I’m going to need therapy. Possibly a lobotomy.”
My face is on fire. “I forgot… The earring… I meant to…”
Oh myGod.
“You meant to turn it off before America’s superhero made you come three times on a rooftop?” Kat says, her voice like ice. She’s standing by the window, arms crossed, her face unreadable in the dim light. “That would have been thoughtful, yes.”
“Kat—”
“I had to listen to you moan his name while I was photographing Viktor Kozlov shaking hands with a weapons manufacturer,” she says. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain surveillance focus while your partner is having the orgasm of a lifetime in your ear?”
“Orgasms,” Bayo corrects, holding up three fingers. “Plural.”
I bury my face in my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I certainly didn’t plan on you being there for every moment.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Kat moves away from the window, her boots sharp on the wooden floor. “You didn’t plan. You didn’t think. You just let him fly you off to some rooftop and?—”
“Iknow.” My voice cracks. “I know, okay? I fucked up.”
“You more than fucked up.” She stops in front of me, looking down with those eyes that have seen too much. “You might have compromised the entire mission. If Mank finds out about this?—”
“He won’t.” I look up sharply. “He can’t. Kat, please.”
“Why shouldn’t I tell him? Shouldn’t I let him know you’re compromised? Because wouldn’t that mean we’re compromised too.” She tilts her head, studying me.
I swallow hard, trying to find the words to make this okay. There aren’t any, but I try anyway.
“Because I can still do this. I can still complete the mission.” I stand, letting the blanket fall away. “I’ve been in these situations before. It’s the classic honeytrap. It’s sexpionage. It’s just this one probably won’t end with death. I don’t know. I still don’t know what Vanguard was really created to do, don’t know if he’s a threat, and Roger did want me to get as close as possible.”
“There’s a difference between getting close to a target and getting close because you’ve lost all sense of control.”
“I know. What happened tonight—it doesn’t have to mean anything. It was just physical. A moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.”
