Chapter Eight
I was still watching for pursuers who never materialized when he pulled the car away from the curb.
It wasn't until we were well down the block and the Ambassador's Residence was no longer in sight that I stopped looking behind us.
I glanced at Tristan and found him shaking his head.
"You really are not very good about hiding your thoughts, you know," he said.
That I knew. But even if I had been, these were particularly challenging circumstances. We could have been chased or worse. But I wasn't in the mood to remind him of that. What I wanted was answers.
"When did you make the hand off?" I asked.
"I didn't make it. I received it. And at the bar."
"From who? The only one standing near you was me."
"That's not true."
I thought back and it struck me. "The bartender."
"Yes." He tipped his head as he slowed for a light.
"But I didn't see him hand you anything."
He laughed. "What exactly do you think it was I was being given?"
"I don't know. Documents. A note." My eyes flew wide as an idea hit. "Ooo, was it written on the cocktail napkin?" I guessed.
Tristan's laugh was louder and longer than before. "You're adorable."
I frowned at what didn't seem like a compliment.
Glancing at me, he finally said, "It was a microchip."
I nearly slapped myself in the forehead. I'd watched too many old black and white spy movies. Of course it was a microchip. Jeez. I really needed that Spying 101 book.
He turned to me again. "You did well."
I felt the pout form on my lips. "No, I didn't." I was lucky I didn't get us caught.
"You did exactly as I needed you to. You distracted Gerald."
"Gerald?" My voice rose to a squeak. "He was the guy I was there to distract?" The man I'd made spit his drink by being sassy? Jesus.
"Yes. One of them, anyway" he answered.
Another thought hit me. "Who were you hiding from when we first arrived? When you, uh, kissed me."
I still felt the imprint of that kiss seared on my lips.
"Ah, that. She was a woman I'd gotten close to and things didn't end quite as she would have liked."
"The Housewives of New Jersey chick?" I asked, intrigued and a little envious of this woman. More than a little, actually.
"No." He laughed. "The woman at the embassy party tonight was a professional entanglement. Housewives chick, as you call her, was a personal one."
Exactly how many women was Tristan entangled with? Apparently so many that he had to categorize them.
It was pretty obvious which column I fell into. But that was the least of my worries right now. Gerald was the bad guy. Right in front of me. And I didn't even know.
Tristan glanced my direction. "Are you feeling all right? You look as if you might faint."
"I feel that way." I twisted in my seat to face him as best I could with the seatbelt on. "Why didn't you tell me about Gerald? I could have blown it."
"You were perfect. Just the right distraction."
"But who is he?"
Tristan eyed me, looking as if he was considering his words. "Let's just say he's working toward different goals than I am."
Well that was clear as mud.
"And what goals are you working toward?" I asked.
I really knew nothing about this man. I could have just helped him buy US secrets that he was about to hand over to the KGB for all I knew.
Was the KGB still even a thing? I needed to research this stuff if working for GAPS was going to put me in these situations.
"Home, sweet home." He pulled up in front of my building and shifted the car into park and I realized that once again he’d avoided answering me.
Damn. Why did he have to be so hot? There was a very good chance he was a bad guy. And I'd just helped him because I was swayed by his charm.
I was about to really panic about that possibility when his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his breast pocket and glanced at the display, smiling as he looked at me. "There's the devil. It's your boss." He punched the screen and pressed it to his ear. "Zane Alexander, where in the bloody hell are you?"
He listened for a bit, nodding occasionally as I strained to hear the other side of the conversation, but the bastard kept his volume down too low.
"I suppose I can forgive you for being out of the country when I needed your unique services since your girl Chelsea worked out perfectly . . . Yes, Chelsea from your office. She did quite well actually. I'll tell you about it over drinks next time we're both in town."
I waited. For Zane to freak out. For Tristan to learn I was the office manager and not an experienced operator as he'd assumed. For something, anything to happen.
And then my worst fears came true. Tristan held the phone out to me and said, "He'd like to speak with you."
My eyes went wide as I took the cell with less than a steady hand. "Hello?"
"So, it sounds like you've been busy." Was that amusement or annoyance I heard in my boss’s tone?
"I'm so sorry. I tried to call you. I even called the other office. I didn't know what to do. If I should help or not. If I was even supposed to."
"Chelsea, relax. You're not in trouble. I'm just surprised."
I blew out a burst of air. "You're not the only one."
He chuckled. "Anyway, thank you for stepping up tonight. Tristan's one of the good guys. He helps us and we help him whenever we can. I appreciate you handling him in my absence."
"No problem." I held in my overwhelming relief over Zane's confirming Tristan was a good guy and that I hadn’t just committed treason.
"I'll be back in the country sometime tomorrow. Then you and I will talk. In light of recent events, I might have to see about expanding your duties at GAPS a bit."
In light of recent events, I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one, so I said, "Okay."
"Tell Tristan I'll call him when I'm back. And I'll see you soon."
"Okay. Sounds good. Bye." I held the phone out to Tristan. "He'll be back tomorrow. He said he'll call you."
Tristan took the phone and slid it into his jacket. "So it seems you and I are both done with work for the night."
"It seems so." And since Tristan was one of the good guys and had Zane’s stamp of approval, I said, "You, um, wanna come upstairs?"
I bit my lip and yanked my gaze back to his eyes from where it had dropped to his strong chin and to what I knew to be an oh so kissable mouth.
Those lips tipped up into a smile. "I'd like nothing better."