“But I’m decidedly not on the market.”
“I see.” He takes a bite of a fry. “No wedding ring though. And Tara isn’t married, I looked you up. In fact, Tara doesn’t have much history…”
“Trust me,” I say. “My boyfriends are very much real.” Unlike Tara.
“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll give you mine, and if anything opens up, let me know.”
I laugh. “Well, you’ve got balls, Petey.”
“That I do,” he agrees with a grin.
“Maybe next lifetime,” I say.
But I accept his card when we’re done eating. “Amazing to meet you,” he says. “And thanks again.” He glances down at Blue before turning and walking away.
“Ready?” Luisa asks.
I nod, watching All-American walk away…it’s not a bad view.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The car ride from the international airport to the private one lulls me to sleep, Blue’s head on my lap, his body stretched across the seats next to me. Blue’s head lifting off my leg wakes me as the car comes to a stop in front of a low-slung building.
The driver, John, gets out and comes around to open my door. I’ve gotten strangely used to people opening my doors for me. It used to bug me—a combination of I can do it myself and I’ll do it when I’m ready. But now I recognize it as a custom that isn’t trying to mess with me. While yes, I can open my own door, it’s not a sign of weakness to have someone else do it. And I don’t have to hurry myself in order to match their speed.
Blue leaps over me and out the open door and I grab my duffel off the floor, following him out into the sunny day. Inside the small private airport an Indian woman in a navy pantsuit greets me. “Welcome,” she says, her eyes warm and smile wide. “I am Lakshmi, we are happy to have you here.”
“Thanks, it’s good to be here.”
“Your friend has already arrived,” she says, gesturing to a closed door with the words “waiting room” over it in three languages—English, Fijian, and Hindi, the three official languages of Fiji.
“Oh, good,” I say. “Has he been waiting long?”
“Not too long,” she answers with a smile. “Your plane is ready whenever you are.”
“I guess we’re good to go.” I smile, headed toward the door.
She nods. “I will inform your pilots, and we will coordinate with traffic control.”
I push into the waiting room and find Dan, Nila, and Frank on the other side. Dan looks up from his phone and grins. My eyes prick at the sight of them all. “Hey, Dan,” I say.
“Hey,” he says back. Dan sits in a wheelchair, his leg in a cast and propped up. His eyes still sparkle the same pale green, but his once chin-length sandy blond hair is shorn. A jagged scar, pink and healing, starts at the crown of his head and dives behind his left ear. A car accident can seriously fuck you up. Especially when it’s on purpose.
He was attacked by a group of “Action Men” back in Washington DC. They rammed his car with their own, breaking the fuck out of his leg and fracturing his skull. They had a fake ambulance nearby and loaded him in. We’re not sure what their plan was because all the people involved died.
Dan looks okay, though…not as tan, not as healthy, not as vibrant as usual but breathing and smiling. In lives like ours, violence and the repercussions are normal, but I never get used to seeing people I love hurt. Or dead. I push away the thought, refusing to ride those rails right now.
Frank and Nila, Blue’s puppies, stand on either side of the wheelchair, their tails wagging. They both have the pure white coat of their mother—a Kangal mastiff who belonged to Rida. My heart clenches for a moment as Rida’s face swims in front of my mind’s eye. I push those images away too, concentrating on the room I’m in and the happiness I feel at seeing Dan and my dogs again.
“Hey, guys,” I say, which they take as an invitation to run forward. I crouch down and hold out my arms. Frank, as tall as Blue but not yet as broad, has paws that still look too large on him. Nila, smaller than her brother, has a piercing blue gaze that radiates fierce intelligence. She reaches me first and I wrap my arms around her. She leans into me, a soft sigh escaping. Frank barks and spins, trying to figure out how to be closer to me.
“That dog is a real doofus,” Dan says.
“I know,” I say as Frank pushes his sister out of the way and maneuvers himself center stage. At which point he flops onto his back, paws in the air, and whines. I rub his belly. Frank’s whine morphs into a weird purring sound that makes both Dan and me laugh.
The door to the waiting room opens and Frank rolls back to his feet, facing it with a loud bark of excitement. Nila comes and sits by my side, leaning against my leg while Frank acts as though Lakshmi might be his long-lost best friend—his tail whipping around with such joy that I can’t help but grin.
“Your plane is ready.”
Dan begins to roll himself forward, and I circle around to give him a push. “Thanks,” he says, placing his hands in his lap.
There is a special wheel chair lifting device over the stairs of the plane. Dan faces me as it slowly clicks up. He rolls his eyes at the oh so special treatment and I grin back at him. On board, Dan maneuvers into a large leather seat. The flight attendant disappears with his chair, now collapsed for storage. He props his leg up on the seat across from him and rests his head back, closing his eyes. A line of sweat beads his forehead.
“You okay?” I ask, taking the seat across the narrow aisle. Blue sits on my right, against the plane wall, and puts his head in its spot on my lap. Nila curls at my feet and her brother cuddles against her. She growls at him softly, a warning he totally ignores as he makes himself comfortable with his head on her back.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Dan answers my question without opening his eyes. “Just tired.”
I stare at him, grateful for the moment to examine my friend without him looking back. Dan’s got surfer good looks—blond, tall, broad, athletic. Not what you usually think about when you picture a computer genius. He recently fell in love with a Homeland Security Special Agent—Consuela Sanchez.
She arrested me and then agreed to help me bring down Robert Maxim. The fucker trapped me into marriage—you can do that when you’re a witness with the potential to make a federal case stick. A Federal case that would have left me imprisoned for the rest of my life. Pregnant for the first 9 months, and then separated from my child for the rest of my life. He had a shit ton of leverage over me. As my husband, Robert could refuse to testify against me. Which he did.
But Consuela saw through the bullshit. She recognized I was served up on a platter, a reward for all Robert did to help Homeland Security bring down some of the most powerful criminal organizations in the world.
I don’t know the details of what happened between Dan and her, but I do know that her niece was kidnapped and we got her back. Consuela was suspended and couldn’t help me bring down Robert anymore. At least not right now…
And I’d kind of stopped trying to escape the prison he built for me. When I realized the doors weren’t locked, it didn’t feel as uncomfortable. If anything…being his wife unlocked doors for me. And what was a piece of paper? A legal document. It’s not like I spent much time giving any fucks about the law. Why start with marital ones?
