Chapter Five
Rook leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. She’d been at the office since noon. At five o’clock, Eric’s preliminary analysis of the Diamond Credit hack had ceased to make sense, and she knew the problem was her, not him.
“Do you want me to repeat all that?” he asked.
“God no!” she said way more forcefully than she intended. “Sorry. I think I’m on information overload.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in. I can try to break it down better, but the gist is whoever released Diamond’s files is intimately familiar with their system protocols. I’m close to finding out who it is, but I’m not quite there yet. I probably shouldn’t have bored you with all this until I had something more juicy to share.”
“It’s not you.” She held back a yawn. “I need a nap or a triple espresso—maybe both.”
“You know you could just take off the rest of the day like normal people.”
“There’s one big problem with that statement.”
“I know. I’m not normal either, which is probably why you hired me. But if you don’t need me for the rest of the night, I actually have plans that don’t involve churning through digital files.”
“A date?”
“Something like that.”
Rook started to ask more, but held back, mostly because she didn’t want to start a back-and-forth that might involve her disclosing her own evening plans. In an hour, she was supposed to pick Zoey up and take her to Union Station for a tour of the monuments. Against her better judgment, she’d been looking forward to seeing Zoey but still dreaded the specifics of the outing. Faux trolleys filled with tourists, jostling to get the best selfies with Lincoln, MLK, and FDR—the prospect nearly gave her hives. Maybe she was a snob, but a good date was worth being a snob about.
Date. Was this really a date or just a kindness to an out-of-towner she’d helped from a jam? It felt like a date, but she wasn’t entirely sure that’s what she wanted it to be. Zoey would be headed back to her base soon and that was best. Military people, especially career soldiers, were a mystery to her. She understood young people falling for the be-all-you-can-be slogans and using the experience as a jumping-off point to other things, but anyone who re-upped after their first tour had seriously questionable judgment from her perspective. Who in their right mind would agree to spend their lives wearing a uniform and pledge never to question orders? Blind obedience was the antithesis of her entire existence and had the very real potential of getting someone killed.
Still, Zoey was charming and beautiful, and Rook was determined to enjoy their one night together since that’s all it would be. Struck with an idea, she sent a quick text to George and wrapped up her meeting with Eric. If she was going to suffer through a night of tourism, she was going to do it in comfort.
After she sent the text, she said to Eric, “Let’s call it a day. I’ve got enough to do to catch up to where you are. We’ll go back at this on Monday.”
Eric looked at her like she’d grown two heads. “You sure?”
“Positive. Go, now, before I change my mind.”
Rook shooed him out the door, and once he was gone, she made her way into the bathroom that adjoined her office. Lacy called it the executive washroom, which made her laugh since she was the only one who used it. The eight-by-eight room featured a glassed-in shower with a top-of-the-line massaging shower head, a closet stocked with expensive towels, and her favorite toiletries. The contractor who’d outfitted the office had deemed the room a luxury, but to Rook it was a necessity that allowed her to stay at the office whenever the team was in crisis mode. Her office featured a sleek leather sofa that folded out into a Tempur-Pedic bed on nights when she couldn’t make it home, and the bathroom was another extension of the home away from home.
She brushed her teeth and finger-combed her short curls with a drop of product, wishing not for the first time they would obey her commands. The eyes looking back at her in the mirror were puffy and tired, and she dug through the drawers and found a bottle of eye drops. Other than the eyes, she supposed she looked okay. People told her she was handsome, which she took to mean not quite girly enough, but still good-looking. Her features were chiseled, which gave her a hard edge, and she’d spent many hours practicing an engaging smile so her audiences would warm to her for her clients’ sake. She laid one on now and was surprised it came naturally. Whatever mixed feelings she might have about the circumstance, she was actually excited about seeing Zoey again. After a few moments of messing around with her wayward hair, Rook changed into a maroon cashmere sweater and light gray pants, and sprayed a light mist of cologne to finish out her transformation.
George was waiting at the curb, but she waved him back into the car before he had time to make it to her door. She sank into the cushy seat in the rear of the town car. “Did you manage to get everything?”
“Full picnic basket right up here. Wynn didn’t have the wine you wanted, but she said this bottle is even better. Difference is on her.”
“Thanks, George. You mind if I catch a few winks while you drive?”
“You must be tired. No documents to review or phone calls to make?”
“I think I might have reached my max for the day.” Rook caught his look of surprise in the rearview mirror, but rather than explain, she took advantage of the time alone and closed her eyes, letting thoughts of Zoey fill her dreams.
* * *
Zoey waited in the hotel lobby since Rook’s text had said she’d be there at six and would come inside to get her. Zoey had offered to meet her at Union Station where the trolleys picked up their passengers for the tour, but Rook had insisted on this courtesy, and Zoey was glad not to have to navigate her way around, although she’d soon have to learn her new city.
Sharp’s bombshell about the job at the Pentagon had left her with a boatload of logistics to consider. She’d been deployed for the last ten months, but many of her belongings were still at her base housing in Texas. She’d have the week to travel, pack, return, and find a new place to live. She’d spent the better part of the day online researching housing in DC. Thank God she was being promoted. She was going to need every dollar of her pay increase and step up in housing allowance to afford a place to live. If Sharp hadn’t cautioned her to keep the transfer under wraps until it was official, she would ask Rook for advice about options.
Of course, she was ignoring Sharp’s other advice about steering clear of Rook in the first place. She’d spent some time after he dropped her off at the hotel last night considering whether she should cancel her outing with Rook in light of the caution, but ultimately decided against it. It was a casual outing, not a date. There was zero chance Sharp would be on a tour bus in the town he’d called home for years, and if they did run into him, she didn’t mind explaining she’d already made plans with Rook before his warning. Besides, she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. A civilian like Rook Daniels was no threat to her.
She’d barely completed her thought when Rook strode through the double glass doors of the hotel lobby. She looked dashing in light gray wool slacks and a burgundy V-neck sweater that hugged her trim upper body. Zoey wrote off the accelerated beating of her heart to excitement about the tour, but she knew deep down she was fooling herself. Not a date. Not a date. She repeated the silent mantra in time with Rook’s steps until they were standing face-to-face.
“You look amazing,” Rook said, her eyes sweeping Zoey’s frame.
Zoey shrugged off the compliment. For the first time since they’d met, she was dressed in civilian clothes, dark blue jeans and a heather green sweater. “I didn’t pack much in the way of casual clothes. Of course, I assumed the tour would be casual, but you look anything but.” She stopped talking, conscious of the fact she was rambling.
Rook looked down at her outfit. “This is pretty casual for me.” She held out her arm. “Come on, I have a surprise for you.”
Zoey’s ears perked up at the word surprise—not her favorite word—but she took Rook’s arm and followed her to the town car she recognized from the airport. Rook opened the door and Zoey slid inside, spotting George behind the wheel. “Hi, George. Remember me?”
“Not likely to forget, Major Granger. I see you took my advice about the best way to see the city.”
“Indeed. I hear the weather is supposed to be perfect tonight. No clouds or rain.”
“Perfect night for a picnic, indeed.”
Picnic? Zoey looked over at Rook who had just slid into the seat beside her. “I just booked the basic tour, nothing fancy. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Well, that’s the surprise. Now, I hope you don’t mind, because George here has obtained the tour route and you’ll get the same exact features, but without a busload of tourists. And,” Rook reached around to the front seat and lifted a basket, “I have food and wine. I figured we’d take a little break between stops.” She paused for a second. “I guess I should’ve run this by you first. I’ll reimburse you for the tickets you bought.”
Zoey stared at the picnic basket and then back at Rook, astounded by the thoughtfulness, even if it was a bit presumptuous. Presumptuous, hell. Rook had planned the perfect evening. Who was she to throw a wrench into it? “It’s perfect. Really. And don’t be silly about the tickets. This will be so much better.”
“You say that now, but I’m afraid I only have a passing knowledge of most of these places.” Rook pulled a book from between the seats. “I, or rather George, got us a copy of the DC Lonely Planet Guide, and I’ll be happy to look up any questions you have.”
Zoey had a ton of questions, but none of them about monuments or anything tourist related. Was Rook always this thoughtful? How had she managed to live in a city and know virtually nothing about its most famous venues? One question topped the list. If this wasn’t a date, what was it?
* * *
Rook watched Zoey run her hand along the granite wall, tracing the words. The moral arch of humanity is large, but it always bends toward justice. The Martin Luther King Jr. memorial was their third stop on the tour. They’d noshed a little in the car, but Zoey had insisted she’d rather see a few of the monuments before their picnic. Rook was pleasantly surprised to find she was enjoying herself and she’d actually learned a few things along the way.
“The book says those cherry trees over there were positioned to bloom in a particular spot so it looks like MLK is gazing at them,” Rook said, pointing at the trees.
“I hear the cherry blossoms are a beautiful sight.”
Rook nodded. “We locals moan about all the tourists who crowd the city to see them, but you can hardly blame them. Too bad you won’t be around to see them.”
“When do they usually bloom?”
“A few weeks from now, toward the end of March, beginning of April.”
“Mmm,” Zoey said. “What’s next on the tour?”
Rook started to call her out on the quick change of subject, certain it was a cover for something but wasn’t sure what. Could Zoey already be missing their connection? Silly really, since they’d barely met, but Rook had to admit the idea of Zoey jetting back to wherever she was assigned left her feeling unsettled. Was it possible Zoey was feeling the same? “I’m a little hungry. Ready for a short break?”
“Sure.”
They returned to the car and Rook told George they were ready for the next stop. When they pulled into the parking lot for Meridian Hill Park, it was deserted. Zoey looked around, the expression on her face making it clear she thought the destination was a no-go. Rook suppressed a grin and pulled out her phone. When the call connected, she said, “Hey, Nancy, we’re here…Okay…See you in a minute.”
She slipped the phone into her pocket and reached for the picnic basket. “Ready?”
Zoey’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded and followed Rook out of the car. Rook told George she’d text when they were ready to leave and led Zoey to the gate at the edge of the property and waited.
“I hate to burst your bubble,” Zoey said, pointing to a sign, “but I think they might be closed for the day.”
“Oh, they’re definitely closed. To the general public that is.”
“And we’re not the general public.”
“Not tonight.”
“Okay.”
Rook didn’t bother hiding her grin now, but before she had a chance to explain, Park Ranger Nancy Evers appeared at the gate.
“Hey, Rook, how’re you doing?”
“Great, Nance. I’d like you to meet Major Zoey Granger. She’s in town for a few days and is trying to see as much of our fair city as she can.” She hefted the basket. “Beautiful night for a picnic, don’t you think?”
“Perfect and you picked the best place in town for it.” Nancy held the gate open and ushered them through. “Text me when you’re done and I’ll come back down and let you out.”
“Will do.” Rook waited until Nancy disappeared back into the park and took Zoey’s hand. “Shall I give you a little history of the park while we find the perfect place to have dinner?”
“If you’re trying to impress me, you can consider this mission accomplished. What is this place?”
“It’s Meridian Hill Park. In 1819, John Porter erected a mansion here on Meridian Hill so called because it was on the exact longitude of the original District of Columbia milestone marker, set down on April 15, 1791. In 1829, the mansion became departing President John Quincy Adams’s home. After its conversion to a public park, Union troops encamped on the grounds during the Civil War.” She paused to catch her breath, but before she could go on, Zoey held up a hand.
“Got it. So, this is either your favorite place in the world or you memorized that out of a brochure or…”
“What’s the last ‘or’?”
“Or you bring all the girls here to impress them.”
Rook laughed as she spread out a blanket and began to unpack the picnic basket. “Fair question, but I’ve never brought a girl here or anyone else for that matter. It’s one of my favorite places, but it’s always been just my place.” Rook let the words trail off as the significance of her remark hung in the air between them. Zoey stared into her eyes, and Rook could swear Zoey was trying to read her mind. Good luck with that, she thought. She didn’t know why she’d told Zoey about her affection for the park. When she played the words back in her head, they sounded private and intimate, like something lovers shared. Time to move this conversation in a different direction, preferably with the focus on Zoey.
“I guess you’ve traveled all over the world.” Rook didn’t wait for Zoey’s response before pressing on. “What’s your favorite place?”
Zoey broke their stare and looked off in the distance. “Hard to say. I was stationed in Okinawa, Japan, for a while. For a farm girl from Texas, it was quite a shock. Instead of acres of land with just a few people, there were people and buildings packed into every corner of that island. At first it felt suffocating, but then…” She stopped as if considering the right description. “Then it was comforting. Like when you wrap a scared dog in a blanket and pull it tight to soothe him. It was so easy to lose myself in the large crowds. No one cared that I didn’t speak the language or understand the culture. I was just swept up in it all and eventually found my way.” She focused back on Rook. “Does that sound stupid?”
Rook smiled. “No. I totally get it. There’s freedom in anonymity. It can give you the space to be who you want to be.” She reached for the bottle of wine. “I guess you don’t have that anymore.”
Zoey’s laugh was hard and humorless. “You think? I noticed it even when I was playing tourist yesterday. People would stare. Most of them didn’t have a clue who I was, but they knew they’d seen me somewhere. I even caught a few taking pictures, no doubt in case I turned out to be someone famous. Boy, will they be disappointed.”
Rook popped the cork on the sparkling rosé and poured them each a glass. “Maybe. Or maybe they’ll have a new hero.”
Zoey made a face. “That sounds a little sappy, don’t you think?”
“A little, but hey, a lot of people think you are a hero. I bet your parents are proud.” No sooner had the last few words left her lips than Rook noticed Zoey’s expression darken. “Sorry, that was insensitive. No parents?”
“Let’s just say I don’t think anyone’s sitting at home in Imperial, Texas, watching C-SPAN so they could cheer me on because A, they wouldn’t know where to find C-SPAN on the dial, and B, approving of me and my choices isn’t in their playbook.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“It’s my reality, but I try not to think about it too much.” Zoey took a drink from her wineglass. “What about you? Family in the area? Do you come from a long line of fixers?”
“Fixer,” Rook repeated. She hated the moniker since it made her sound like someone who built houses or worked on cars. “I prefer public relations specialist. My specialty is helping people and/or organizations who’ve found themselves in difficult situations navigate their way through the nightmare that public relations has become in this era of hundred-and-forty-character take downs.”
“Nightmare is a good word for it.” Zoey appreciated the frank assessment. She’d avoided Twitter and Facebook since she’d blown the whistle on Nine Tech, but she needn’t have bothered. Every time she flipped on the news, social media feeds were the secondary source of the day.
“And I’m the first in my family to take on this particular business.”
Zoey studied the hard lines of Rook’s expression. “Let me guess. Your family doesn’t approve of your occupation either?”
“They can’t really deny my success, but they pretend they don’t understand what I do. I get a lot of ‘why did you bother to go to law school?’ at family gatherings.”
Zoey nodded, but she couldn’t help but wonder what Rook’s response to her family’s question was. She’d gone to school on an ROTC scholarship, and without it she would’ve been stuck at community college. Graduate school had been out of the question, but thankfully, she’d had the Army to supply her with options for her career. No one else in her family had attended college, let alone law school.
As if she could hear Zoey’s thoughts, Rook added, “My family has a history of producing fat cat lawyers who work at large firms, billing big bucks to keep their clients out of trouble. No matter how hard I try to explain the similarities, my particular niche is lost on them.”
Zoey sensed there was a deeper story about Rook’s motivation to avoid the family business, but she simply said, “That must be hard.”
“It was, but I solved the problem by being as successful as I could and not caring what they think. Needless to say, we don’t spend a lot of time together.” Rook reached into the picnic basket. “Now, enough depressing, dysfunctional family talk. I’m starving.”
On cue, Zoey’s stomach growled and they both laughed. With the change in tone, Zoey decided to abandon drilling deeper into what made Rook tick. Rook pulled out a selection of cheeses, crackers, charcuterie, and olives, and they dug into the food. Zoey couldn’t help but wonder if both of them were avoiding conversation until they could steer it to something innocuous, but for her part, she wasn’t sure where to begin. She liked Rook’s sense of humor and her easy manner. If they were different people in different roles, she might even consider seeing her again despite the vast disparity in the way they approached the world. Rook had grown up with every opportunity but wasted her talents helping famous people cover up their problems. Zoey had grown up with nothing and had dedicated her life to service so the world could be a better place. Okay, perhaps that wasn’t a fair comparison, but she’d seen real problems that created real news, not the gossip column problems of the rich and famous that Rook was hired to spin. Boiling it down that way made it hard to deny the striking difference. She decided to enjoy the moment and put aside deeper thoughts. “This cheese is amazing. What is it?”
“It’s a Manchego with truffles,” Rook said. “One of my guilty pleasures.” She sliced another piece and placed it on a cracker. “Try it on this. I plan on having this at my last meal.”
Rook reached toward Zoey’s mouth with the cheese-laden cracker. Zoey held a hand out to take the food, but before she could, Rook’s fingers grazed her lips and her traitorous mouth opened on cue and her tongue touched Rook’s skin sending currents of pleasure throughout her body. If this hadn’t been a date before, it sure felt like one now.
A loud buzzing interrupted her thoughts, and Rook reached into her pocket with a sheepish look on her face. “Sorry,” Rook said as she answered her phone. “Daniels here.”
Rook’s expression hardened as she listened to the voice on the other end of the conversation. Zoey sipped her wine and tried not to eavesdrop, but the urgent tone and clipped phrases pulled her in.
“You’re kidding…How long?…And they don’t know?…Be right there.” Rook slipped the phone back in her pocket. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Is something wrong?” Zoey asked, hoping Rook’s worried frown wasn’t a harbinger of some dire personal emergency. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No, it’s work. I’d send someone else, but this particular client demands my personal touch.” Rook packed up the picnic basket as she spoke. “I’m so sorry to cut our d—outing short.” She stood and held out a hand. “Rain check for next time you’re back in DC?”
Zoey took Rook’s hand and climbed to her feet. They were standing only inches apart, and the heat she’d felt earlier flared up again. Rook had been about to call this a date and, in every way except this abrupt parting, it was one. But it was the last one. She would’ve understood if Rook had raced off to care for an ailing relative or to help someone in need, but a 911 for PR trouble on a Sunday night? Nope, Rook’s priorities were all wrong, and even if neither one of them was willing to call this night what it was, there would be no repeat performance.