The woman nodded slowly, processing. “That’s not a lot to work with.”
“It’s what I can give you.”
“And if I need more?”
“Then you’ll have to trust that our mutual friend sent you here for a reason.”
One of the girls rose and began walking our way. As she reached our table, I met my counterpart’s eyes and said, “Do you know what I want to do to you right now? The ways I have missed you? The parts of you I haven’t seen in so—”
The girl’s giggles could be heard until the restroom door clicked shut.
Amusement filled the woman’s eyes. She was actually enjoying this.
“I can’t tell you everything, but I can tell you that if this meeting doesn’t happen, people will die, a lot of people.”
She held my gaze for a long moment. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her, because she nodded once.
“Fine. My team is the best. We’ll keep your asset safe. Anything else?”
I thought about the infrastructure targets, the night of the 14th, but that was too much—too specific, too operational. If Manakin wanted his team involved in that, he could authorize it himself.
“That’s all for now. If things change, I’ll be in touch.”
“We check the locker every six hours,” she whispered.
“I can’t wait for your next love letter. The last one smelled like you taste,” I said, loud enough to make the passing waiter blush.
She smiled and leaned closer. For a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me again. Instead, she murmured: “Drop the location as soon as you have it.”
“Understood.”
She smiled again. “You and your partner have stirred up quite a hornet’s nest.”
“That’s for sure.”
“Reckless, unauthorized, career-ending work, from what I hear.” She squeezed my leg one last time, then stood and gathered her coat. I hopped up and helped her put it on.
She craned her head back, curls falling across my shoulder. I leaned down and kissed her neck, earning a sound that had the girls tittering again. She turned to face me as she straightened her coat. Her lips grazed mine—brief this time, almost chaste, the kiss of a woman saying goodbye to a lover she would see again soon.
“One more thing,” she murmured against my lips. “Manakin wanted me to pass along a message for your partner.”
“What message?”
She pulled back, her eyes dancing. “‘Stop getting shot’ was an order, not a suggestion.”
Despite everything—the tension, the stakes, the weight of everything riding on the next five days—I laughed.
“I’ll tell him.”
“Do that.” She touched my cheek, a gesture that looked tender from across the room. “Stay safe, my love. I can’t wait to make you blush again.”
The door chimed softly behind her, leaving me standing there alone, staring after her, with the entire café gaping at me and the scent of her perfume drifting up from my coat.
I returned to the table and sat there for a few minutes, letting my heart rate return to something likenormal. The elderly man went back to his newspaper. The young women resumed their conversation. The professor was still scribbling. None of them had seen anything but a woman reuniting with her sweetheart.
That was the job.
That was the mask.
