SEVEN
It was early the next morning when my cell rang.
The name on the display told me it was my GAPS boss, good old Zane.
I answered, “Good morning.”
“Are you, uh, alone?” he asked, the word alone heavily laden with innuendo.
I frowned. “Yes. Of course, I’m alone. I was working your job last night. When the hell would I have had time to pick up anyone?”
“You know what I’m asking.”
Yeah, I knew what he was asking and I felt the insult to my core. “No, Zane, I didn’t spend the night with your target’s honey pot from the party, so don’t worry.”
“She wasn’t a honey pot and Mordashov wasn’t a target—” Zane sputtered to a stop. “You know, you really need to stop watching so many crime dramas on TV. There’s nothing real about them and you sound ridiculous misquoting shit you hear in them.”
More insults. Why was I friends with Zane again?
Letting out a huff, I said, “First of all, you taught me the term honey pot, not television. And secondly, if TV is so inaccurate maybe you should do something about it. Be a story consultant or a fact checker or whatever. Have Chelsea hook you up with someone in the biz. She must know people in the industry from her acting gigs.”
There was a brief moment of silence. “How do you know Chelsea has industry connections? Please tell me you’re not sleeping with her.”
I could almost hear the frown on Zane’s face.
“You told me she was an actress, dickhead. And no, I’m not sleeping with Chelsea.” At this point, all I could do was sigh at the ridiculousness of it all. “You know, Zane, I really wish I got laid half as much as you think I do.”
“You get plenty. Don’t act like you don’t.”
It wasn’t like I was some sort of man whore. I liked women and they liked me. So what?
I let out a snort at his accusation. “So did you, not so long ago.”
“Ancient history,” he said. “I’m very happily married now.”
“Fine. I’ll concede that point. But I’m not married so I’m free to do what I want and with whom.”
“Not with Chelsea or Viktoria, you’re not.”
“You left out Alexandra from last night. Don’t forget her.” I scowled at being told what to do.
I’d made it a point not to listen to my father as often as possible growing up. I sure as hell wasn’t going to listen to Zane now.
“Thanks for reminding me. Stay away from Alexandra too.”
I drew in a sigh and shook my head as he continued to be ridiculous. “Anyone else off limits? Wait. You know what? Why don’t you just email me a list? That way I can keep it on my phone and consult who I’m allowed to date.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. What’s all that noise I hear? Are you out and about already this morning? Or did you never get to bed last night?” Zane asked.
Again I scowled at what sort of opinion he had of me. Like I was some socialite who closed the bars every night then went in search of an after-party. I couldn’t run two companies plus keep up with my other responsibilities if I partied until sunrise then slept the day away.
“One day I’m going to take you with me for a typical workday and let you see exactly what I do.”
“Sure. And I’ll do the same with you for mine. But until then, how about you answer the question?”
“That question being where I am this morning? Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m waiting in line to get coffee.”
“Where are you? Starbucks?”
“Pfft. No. Way better than Starbucks. Montauk Bake Shop.”
Zane laughed. “You drove all the way out to Montauk for coffee? I hope it’s worth it.”
“It is, but I’m not here for the coffee. I’m here for the jelly croissants. They’re legendary and they sell out so you have to get here early. Especially in season.”
“These jelly things must be good to get you up and out this early.”
“They are. Believe me.” And I hated to tell him the croissants were going to take precedence over his call any minute now.
The moment the line crept up far enough that I was no longer outside on the sidewalk, but actually inside the bake shop, this call was over. I didn’t understand the shop’s no cell phones rule, but I wasn’t going to question it or break it. Not when my annual fix of jelly croissants hung in the balance.
“You still here in New York?” I asked, feeling generous. “I’ll grab an extra one for you.”
“Thanks, but I’m back in Virginia. I left as soon as Mordashov’s plane took off last night.”
So the Russian was gone and, consequently, so was Zane.
I guess his life did move as fast as mine. Or faster, since I was currently planning on spending a lazy Sunday gorging on jelly croissants and then lunching with the family in the Hamptons before heading back to Jersey.
Reviewing my agenda for the day, maybe I did understand Zane’s razzing me sometimes. But I didn’t deserve all of it because I did work hard—when I worked.
Work hard. Play hard. Nothing wrong with that.
“So that’s it then. My assignment is over?” I asked.
“That’s it,” Zane answered.
“Oh.” I’d never wanted it in the first place, but now that it was finished, I felt a little let down.
He laughed. “Don’t sound so disappointed. It was a success. Mordashov left New York as healthy and happy as he arrived.”
“Is he still in the country? How do you know he’s safe wherever he is now?” My portion of this job might be over, but I wouldn’t feel a sense of completion if I didn’t see it through all the way to the end—even if it was from afar while getting coffee and pastries.
“Remember, it was my guy driving his town car. So we had eyes on him from the Hamptons right up until he took off from JFK for Heathrow. He’s heading to London next so he’s now their problem. Not ours.”
“That’s very good to hear.”
“Anyway, thank you for your help. You’re done. I’ll grab the gun and the comm from you next time you’re in town.”
The gun and holster I’d be happy to return, but I frowned at the idea of turning in my communicator. “I don’t get to keep the comm?”
Zane laughed. “No. All equipment gets checked back in after an op so we have it for the next one. What in the world would you do with it anyway? You won’t be able to use it. It only works with our system.”
I might never need it again, but I was still unhappy that he wanted it back. I kicked at the crack in the sidewalk outside the bakery. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll have to help you again.”
“I’m pretty sure this is going to be a one shot deal. No worries, Brent. Your debt to me has been paid in full. I appreciate your help. You’re done.”
I didn’t like losing all my James Bond paraphernalia, but I said, “All right.”
“Hey. You in line or what?” The cranky complaint came from a gravelly-voiced old man behind me.
Apparently I wasn’t up the butt of the customer in front of me closely enough for the impatient guy behind me.
“Yeah, I’m in line.” I turned away from him. “Zane, I gotta go.”
“All right, Rosebud. Enjoy your jelly donuts.”
Regretting my choice of code names, which would no doubt haunt me for years, I scowled.
“Jelly croissant and you don’t know what you’re missing.” I disconnected the call without the courtesy of a goodbye.
I pocketed my cell before I incurred the wrath of the counter help, then stepped through the doorway and into the shop that did an insanely large amount of business in a crazy small number of square feet.
Once it was my turn, I was in and out fast. The staff always was efficient. They had to be given the number of customers waiting.
I’d justified ordering a dozen jelly croissants because I was stopping by Aunt Anne’s today.
The reality was, I’d probably end up eating more than my share. I wasn’t out here half as much as I used to be as a kid. Work and adulthood got in the way.
I’d run off the calories anyway.
With the box of pastries in one hand and my coffee in the other, I pushed through the door and headed down the sidewalk—and walked directly into someone who had me smiling.
I stopped in front of her. “Alexandra?”
“Good morning, Mr. Hearst. And you can call me Alex. Now that I’m off duty we don’t have to be so formal.” Her smile was warmer today. More genuine now that Alex was off-duty.
Alex. The name fit her. Especially now as she was dressed in yoga pants, sneakers and a T-shirt with her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Alex, it is. But only if you call me Brent.” I smiled.
The corners of her lips twitched up. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”
“Good.” Her answer as much as the good-natured humor with which it was delivered made me happy. “Funny seeing you again so soon. What a coincidence, huh?”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Not really. Who could be this close and not make the trip to get a jelly croissant at the bake shop?”
My eyes widened at her comment. “A woman after my own heart.” I held up the box. “That’s exactly what I came here for.”
“A whole box.” She bobbed her head. “A true fan. I’m impressed. I was going to indulge in just one. Now you’ve gone and upped the stakes.”
A man clad in a white apron leaned outside and slapped a sign onto the glass door of the shop. “Jelly sticks are sold out, folks. Sorry.”
“No.” Alex’s smooth forehead furrowed in a frown. She let out a loud sigh. “I knew I should have gotten here earlier.”
The guilt struck me hard. If I hadn’t bought a full dozen, the people in line behind me—Alex included—could have gotten some.
“Come with me.” I tipped my head toward a vacant park bench.
She followed me as I put the box down on the bench and broke the tape that held it shut.
“Sit.” I used a napkin to pick up one delicate tempting confection and held it out toward her as she sat. “Here.”
Alex shook her head. “No. I couldn’t take—”
“Of course, you can. I bought a dozen. Honestly, you’ll be saving me from my own gluttony.”
Her gaze moved from the croissant to my face. “If you’re sure . . .”
“I’m sure.” I handed it to her and went back to get one for myself.
Flipping the lid shut, I settled in the sunny spot on the bench next to her and leaned in for my first bite.
Since I’d given her my napkin, I had none for myself. I knew from experience that jelly was going to squirt out the end of the croissant and make a mess, if not on my pants, then at least on the sidewalk, but I didn’t care. It had been too long since I’d indulged in this particular treat.
I groaned as the flaky, buttery croissant melded with the smooth sweet jelly.
A giggle next to me brought my attention around to Alex as she watched me eat and laughed.
I noticed she’d been a bit more delicate than I had. She’d managed to keep her jelly and crumbs contained in the napkin while mine splattered the pavement.
“Don’t mock a man in ecstasy,” I warned.
“I’m not. It’s just nice to find someone who appreciates a Montauk institution as much as I do. I’m afraid that not one of those women at the party last night would even come near this thing.”
“Their loss.” I’d choose a woman I could dive into a box of pastries with over one who tried to survive on black coffee any day of the week.
She took another bite and shot a squirt of red jelly onto her hand, which she quickly licked off before her gaze cut to me and her cheeks flushed. “That was completely crude of me. I’m sorry.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. You can lick jelly in front of me any time.”
“Thank you. You as well.” She licked her fingers one more time as I enjoyed the sight.
“I will. Thanks.” I grinned and reached for my coffee cup, which I’d set on the ground when I’d abandoned it in favor of the croissant. “Nothing like Montauk Bake Shop’s hot coffee and jelly croissants.”
“I would normally agree but I’m not sure it’s worth that line just for the coffee. But I’m a happy girl with the croissant. Thank you.”
I noticed Alex had carried a stainless steel travel coffee cup with her.
“Bring that cup over here.” I pulled the plastic top off my own paper to-go cup.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t take your croissant and your coffee too.”
“Come on. There’s plenty to share. I got a large.” And that was another reason I loved this place. A freaking large coffee was exactly that—a large coffee and I didn’t have to speak in another language just to order it.
She tipped her head to one side, eyeing the liquid in my cup. “Cream and sugar in there?” she asked.
“Yup. Both. And plenty of it.” I waited.
Was she an artificial sweetener and skim milk girl or could we share coffee with all the good old-fashioned decadent additions?
“Thank God. If you drank it with no sugar, I would have had to say no.” She popped the top off her reusable cup and thrust it forward. “I’d love some.
I gladly filled it. She’d passed the coffee test with flying colors. I wondered what else we had in common.
She drew in a long sip and groaned. “That’s good. Thank you so much.”
“You’re most welcome.” Small talk over pastries and coffee with Alex might be the best date I’d been on in a while, even if this wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination a date. I decided to extend our interlude and start a conversation that had to do with more than our food. “So, what did you think of last night’s party?”
“I think it was a success. The organization brought in a lot of donations.”
I laughed. “Okay, now take off your organizer’s hat and answer again. Did you enjoy it? Did you speak with anyone interesting?”
“Besides you, you mean?” She smiled.
“Besides me.” Though I liked how she was thinking.
“It was definitely an interesting mix of people. More so than usual thanks to the Russian component in attendance.”
I raised my gaze and found her watching me.
What should I say? If I were a normal guest, I shouldn’t know even half as much about the Russians as I did.
“You’re right.” I nodded. “It was an interesting mix of people.”
There. That reply was generic enough it shouldn’t tip my hand.
She cocked a brow high. “It’s okay. You can be honest.”
I nearly choked. I cut my gaze to her. “Honest about what?”
“I saw you watching them. I understand. She’s not only gorgeous, she’s a freaking heiress. Hell, I was staring at her too.”
Relief hit me. She wasn’t talking about my Russian at all. She was referring to the other Russian. Viktoria.
Calmer now that we weren’t in dangerous territory where I might spill some of Zane’s secrets about Mordashov, I relaxed.
“Eh, I guess she’s okay, if gorgeous and rich are your type, that is.” I grinned, teasing.
“Isn’t gorgeous and rich everyone’s type?” she asked.
I lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. I have more of an affinity for women with jelly on their face.”
Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Do I?”
Smiling, I reached out. “Here. Let me.”
She lowered her hand and I brushed a thumb over the faint red smear. It didn’t come off and I did probably the worst thing one person could do to another, especially someone they barely knew. I licked my thumb then rubbed off the stain.
Okay, yeah, that felt way too intimate. I leaned back. “Got it.”
Pink cheeked, she said, “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” I cleared my throat. “So, you heading out today? Unless you live out here—in which case, I’m jealous.”
She laughed. “I don’t live out here, unfortunately. I’m heading back to the city in a bit. It’s been a nice weekend at the beach but it’s time for Cinderella to get back to reality.”
“I’m heading back today too.”
“Manhattan?” she asked.
“Jersey City, actually. But I’ve got the best view of Manhattan you’ve ever seen from my apartment.”
“Nice.” She nodded. “You know, if you’re interested, there’s another charity event next weekend. It’s at the New York Center for Independent Publishing on 44th Street. Gorgeous old building. Beautiful architecture. The event is a reading by Billy Collins. He’s hysterical.”
I nodded. “He is. I’ve seen him perform. Years ago. What day is this event?”
“Friday night. Eight o’clock performance followed by a reception.”
“Sounds interesting. Are there tickets still available, do you know?” I asked, more interested in the fact that she’d be there than Billy Collins.
“I think I’ll be able to squeeze you in.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I know the marketing director of the not-for-profit.”
Her smile and joke had me guessing, “Would that be you, perchance?”
“Sadly no. I’m just a volunteer.”
“Never say just a volunteer. It’s the most important job title a person can hold.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And as for the event, it’s a date.”
She reacted to the word date. I watched her expression morph from surprise to what I’d like to think was satisfaction.
She smiled. “It’s a date.”
Now all I had to do was keep my date with Alex on the down low so I didn’t get a lecture from Zane since she was on my No Date List from him.
That made going out with her even more enticing.
Zane should have known better. Breaking the rules was the only thing I liked better than rising to a challenge.
Silly man.