Mr. Nice Spy Read Free Page A

sitting at my desk, hitting refresh like a desperate teenager who wishes he could rewind the sad turns of his little life and take back . . . something. Like Shanna will leap out of bed after her late night to reply to my email and unsay what she’s obviously been holding in for too long.
    “Bad news?” Talia’s voice yanks me out of my thoughts. I didn’t know she was here already. If she’s finished with her law intern cover job, that means it’s after 3 PM.
    “Sort of. The recording didn’t make it through last night. Had to figure out why.” I shift in my seat and hope that covers the real reason, too pitiful to share.
    Talia eyes my computer, though she can’t read my screen from her desk. “If you need anything, you know who to call.”
    “Tech support?”
    Without taking her gaze off me for a second, Talia flips a pen in my direction. I bat it away and dial up the charm. “Oh, was that an offer?”
    I can tell she’s sliding into that I’m-tough-enough-to-keep-up-with-you mode that forms the basis of basically our entire relationship when she smirks. “It’s an offer, but I doubt you could handle it.”
    “Believe me, sweetheart, I’d handle it.”
    The flirting edge of the playfulness in her eyes melts, leaving something a little harder, a little sharper, though her words are still in our juvenile joking mode. “I’ll handle your face.”
    That’s definitely an offer — but not in a good way. I crossed a line. Shanna would’ve played along, but here, now, I need to play this off. “My face would love to see you try.”
    “Your face will have to remain sadly disappointing. I mean, disappointed.”
    I lick one fingertip and chalk up an imaginary point in her favor. Will, our chief, breezes by from Eric’s desk in time to make it clear he heard the whole thing. Fear tugs at my gut. How much of the “whole thing’ did he hear?
    I suddenly remember the way Mack at CSIS eyed Will’s back across the room when Mack asked for my help after one of our weekly meetings. I knew then it was a risk. That might be part of the reason I signed on, despite the gamble: the idiotic adrenaline junkie in me couldn’t resist — and it never hurts to have someone like CSIS owe you a favor.
    But when Will jumps in, he’s playing a role in the same flirting game. “You know, Talia, they only tease you when they like you.”
    She scoffs. “Hold that call till he starts pulling my pigtails.”
    Just being in the ring feels so good that I’ll let her take this round. Messing with Talia — and having her challenge me right back — is sometimes all that gets me through an op or a day.
    Though there used to be someone else who had that same effect, banter or no. Shanna’s blue eyes flash through my mind, but not like I want to remember them. Like last night. Teary. Pleading.
    I hit refresh on my email again. Nothing.
    I turn back to the traces on my Lebanese scientist friend, as if I haven’t already memorized everything we know about him, from his curriculum vitae — professorships in Egypt and Bahrain — to his current vitamin regimen — E and B12. Talia’s been hard at work on one of his Russian-speaking colleagues from Turkmenistan, another professor visiting for the summer. She has that feminine advantage over me, especially since she’s also contacting him at the gym. It’s not like she’s seducing potential assets, but I bet it isn’t hard for Talia to at least get his attention.
    “You got something?” Talia slices into my thoughts again, and I blink. I must’ve been staring at her, judging from the way she’s arching an eyebrow at me.
    “Yep.” At least I’d better have something. I refresh my email one more time — and it bails me out. Two new messages: one from Angela, one from Shanna.
    There’s no helping it: I click on Shanna’s first.
    Not what I want to see.
     
    I’m sorry, but I really need some time to sort through things. Anything you want to talk about will be there