“I’m sure you’re going to like it.”
The artist walked by and we were introduced. He was very young and I found his nervous smile funny. The paintings were modern and leaned towards the abstract. Cool stuff, just not my type.
Also, my mind was elsewhere. On how Bobby kept squeezing my hand and stayed so close our arms were brushing all the time.
It was when Rafael pulled him away to say hi to someone that I got a breather.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Romulus materialized out of nowhere.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I was invited.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “We’re accommodating Douglas with Cisneros and, well, this is an open event so I’m not the only police here. Although it feels weird to be amongst so many drug dealers.” We were standing next to each other but facing opposite ways. “My hands are itching to get my handcuffs out.”
“Are they?” I upended my glass.
“Or is it that they miss you?”
“Ask them.”
“There’s Max MacGowan next to the food,” he said in a low voice. “The bastard.”
I turned on my heels to be able to see the fat man with the blond hair combed back eating shrimp and laughing, deep in conversation with another, taller, sophisticated looking guy.
“And that talking to him,” he lowered his voice further, “that’s Armand Sayer.”
I gulped. Two of the most powerful drug lords in London occupying the same space. Mind-blowing.
“Cisneros is doing business with them, so we’ll be able to hit them pretty soon.”
“Can’t wait.” I glanced down at my empty glass.
“Neither can I. Seven days is too long a wait.” He’d turned sideways to face me and plucked the glass from my hand. “I say we get out of here, find somewhere quiet, and make some noise.”
“Sorry. I can’t.”
“Your date seems occupied with something else.” He pointed his chin to where Bobby and Rafael were talking to some people and the first took notice.
Shit. I didn’t need Bobby making a scene, even if it were a private one.
A hand on Rafael’s arm and Bobby was excusing himself from the conversation.
“Now you’ve done it.”
“What? Is he the jealous kind?”
“Go away. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“He’s married, you know?”
“I said I’ll call you.”
“Everything okay?” Did Bobby just fucking glide across the gallery?
“Yeah.” I noticed he was glaring at Romulus. “This is Romulus. A friend. Romulus, Roberto Cisneros.”
“Oh! The half-brother!” Romulus reached out to shake Bobby’s hand. “So nice to meet you. How’s Miami?”
“I don’t know, actually.” He took notice of Romulus holding both glasses with his free hand. “Been busy working at Langley.”
“CIA?” Romulus knew and was trying to humor Bobby.
“Yes.” Bobby crossed him. “We should go.” Then set a hand on my back. “We’ve got reservations elsewhere.”
“Sure. Yes. Pleased to meet you.” Romulus was playing innocent. “Have a great night.” He nodded my way and scurried towards the bar.
Bobby’s hand on my back became an arm draped over my shoulders as we made our way through the crowd, grabbed our coats, and stepped out into the street.
“Reservations?” I asked once we started down the road.
“We’ll just go somewhere and grab some take-out.”
“Really?!” I stopped to twirl away from his ever-tightening grip.
“I didn’t like how that guy was looking at you.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
It was late and the street was empty, making our voices echo into the nothingness.
“Stop it!” He went to grab me but I slid away. “Don’t do that!” I stepped back. “Scarlett!”
“I’m not taking any more bullshit from you, Bobby. I’ve been more than forgiving all these years.”
“Are you fucking him?”
“What do you care about who I fuck?”
“I do care, Scarlett. I’ve always cared.”
“I will not reduce myself to being someone’s mistress.”
“That’s not what you are to me.”
“Is it not? Goddammit, Bobby, you’re married. You have a baby on the way and here you are making a scene about this. You want the truth? You really want the truth?”
“You know damn well I do.”
“Then yes. I’m fucking that guy. There. Now you know.”
He took a loud breath. “Come here.” And beckoned me to him. “Come the fuck here, Scarlett.”
He was fuming but he’d never do me any harm, so I got closer and was enveloped in a bear hug that lasted for as long as it took him to slow his breathing.
“I’ll leave tonight if that’s what you want,” he whispered. “I’ll leave you be.” His voice broke. “And never get in your way again.”
I held on to him, to his words, for a bit.
“Please do, Bobby. I beg of you.”
He released me and held onto my face for a kiss before taking my hand and leading the way back to my place.
On how Douglas and Scarlett got on Romulus’ nerves
Two months. Two whole months. Sixty days and I was still in training.
As if I needed anyone teaching me how to do my job.
I was ready to shoot someone or punch someone in the face but had to channel my anger by spending long hours working out in my personal gym or whipping Romulus’ back raw. And that last one was starting to get a little boring too.
Training is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. There’s no better way to get acquainted with your coworkers than training with them day in and day out. And Romulus, dear god, that man sure knew how to keep us on our toes during our exercises, working us until our brains turned to mush.
However, I was getting tired of holding an empty rifle, perched up on a rooftop, waiting for a fake signal, and, most important, NOT SHOOTING ANYONE. Even worse when I knew the rest were going out on missions and I was the only one left behind.
So Douglas convinced Romulus about taking me on one of his jobs.
It wasn’t anything exciting. Quite dull actually, eavesdropping on someone, but I was glad he thought of me.
“I know you’re frustrated,” he said as we sat at a table for two inside the crowded pub. “What will you have?”
“Can we drink?”
He half-grinned, then shrugged his shoulders. “Romulus isn’t anywhere near here. Lager?”
“Yes, please.”
He started for the bar and I let my eyes wander around the place. It was packed and the buzzing could turn anyone deaf. He hadn’t filled me in on the target, so I didn’t know who to look out for. All he told me was to be prepared in case things went awry. I sure as hell wished they would, if only to hit someone.
A smiling Douglas came back with two pints and we dove into an amicable conversation right away. He was such a nice guy, this Douglas. Always cheerful, always smiling. And being the oldest one in the group, he thought it his responsibility to keep an eye on us 24/7. He was slowly landing on that spot where I would’ve put an older brother if I had one.
By the time our first pints were dry I was wiping tears of laughter from my cheeks. Douglas had a keen eye for studying people and had the ability to make up funny life stories just by looking at someone from a distance. When he went to get the next round, I couldn’t shake off the image of a woman sitting across from us being a crazy cat lady and of the guy sitting in a booth with his mates wearing a pink thong under his suit. It made it hard to keep the laughter to myself.
“Having a good time?” A familiar voice thundered from above my head. “Why am I not surprised?”
Romulus was towering over our table, his hands clasped in front of him.
“Excuse me?”
“You were sent to eavesdrop on a target
, not get drunk and draw attention towards yourself by laughing your head off.”
I don’t think I’ve ever sobered up so quickly in my whole life. “What the fuck?” I stared hard into his face and he was sneering at me.
Oh to punch that sneer away!
“Romulus!” Douglas set my pint on the table. “Can I get you one?”
Romulus wasn’t dropping the attitude, his narrowed eyes switching from Douglas to me, then back to Douglas.
“I-” Romulus started.
“Oh, before anything…” Douglas dug into a pocket inside his jacket for something. “Job’s done. Here it is.” It was a digital audio recorder and a tiny microphone bug. “They were sitting at a table on the opposite side of the pub. The bug Ferdinand gave me worked wonderfully. I heard the whole conversation, even through the noise. They’re meeting again next week in another location.”
Romulus took a second to observe the device that had been deposited in his hand.
Douglas was smirking and I couldn’t help the chortle that came up my throat.
“Are they still at their table?”
“No. They just left.”
Chagrin was not enough to describe the look on Romulus’ face. Combine that with my jaw hanging in incredulity and it all made for a very happy Douglas.
“You were listening in on them this whole time?” I had to ask.
Douglas took a triumphant sip of his beer. “I was.”
Romulus snorted. “Having the talent of multitasking doesn’t exempt you from your responsibilities, Agent Hannegan.” I was about to protest when Douglas shook his head at me.
“And you, Miss Lang.” Romulus proceeded to grab my pint and take a long drink from it. “For someone who prides herself of following the rules, you seem too comfortable breaking them. I see your training isn’t complete yet.”
“Oi! Don’t take it out on her. It was my idea,” Douglas quipped but