Jagger

 

 

 

“You’re not Jagger?” Tiffany’s cute little forehead crinkled.

I kept glancing back to see if her friend, Morgana, was about to return but she hadn’t appeared. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that she wasn’t coming back yet.

“Yes, I’m Jagger Chance. I mean, not exactly. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.” I ran my hand through my hair.

This was much harder than anything I had ever done. Infiltrating the Luciano family and learning Italian in less than two weeks was easier than telling Tiffany I was her husband.

“How could you be and not be Jagger Chance? That doesn’t make sense. Did you change your name?” Tiffany said but right after she spoke her eyes widened.

She straightened her back, and I realized she was remembering. What happened in Vegas was finally coming back to her. But how much? Because I said some things when I was drunk that I shouldn’t have. Thankfully, Katlin can’t get reports on that, unless Tiffany tells someone—specifically, someone in the government.

Shit.

“Yes, I did, but that’s not what I came here to talk to you about. As I can tell from your expression, you are starting to figure it out. Now, in my defense, I had a little too much to drink. I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here, to rectify it,” I said as I lifted the papers in the air.

“I don’t care if you were inebriated. That’s no excuse.” Tiffany scowled and pressed back into the leather booth seat.

“Look, if we could go somewhere private to talk, I could explain what happened.” I reached for her arm, trying to push out the memory of how her earlier touch sent a shiver straight to my cock.

She stumbled to her feet but stretched over the table to grab her purse before stepping back. “No, we cannot go anywhere to talk. Why would I want to be alone with someone like you? Did you think you could trick me, too? When you showed up at my door, ready to do what you do best, you felt a little sympathy for the single mom with a kid that required extra help? I guess you think I should be thankful for that?”

“No, I mean, I was there to—”

“Save it.” Tiffany held up her arm. “I’m going to leave right now and call the police, so no one has to be hurt by you ever again.”

I began to stand and stop her but as I did, I saw two women come through the front door of the bar. Both women had the power to make this so much worse than it already was.

My heart picked up speed and my training kicked in. I appraised the room to find an out. Unfortunately, the only other way out was through the back hallway that led to the bathrooms and the kitchen—the same hallway Morgana was now exiting.

I was trapped.

My only alternative was to find the less dangerous of the two escapes and take that route. At least, for some reason I couldn’t understand, Morgana didn’t remember me from Vegas, either. We all drank at the bar, walked around the strip, and eventually ended up at the chapel together. Morgana was the witness that signed the marriage certificate.

Yet, both women didn’t remember me. They hadn’t appeared drunk when I met them at the bar that night, but I guess they both were drinking for a while before I came.

I turned toward the Morgana escape route and made my way toward the back.

“Are you all done speaking with Tiffany?” Morgana asked as she met me just outside the hallway by the corner of the bar.

“Yes. And I wanted to discuss something with you, but I don’t want Tiffany to find out. Do you mind if we move back here to talk?” I pointed toward the hallway from where she came.

“Okay.” She tilted her head in confusion.

As I leaned against the wall between the men’s and women’s bathroom, I looked down at Morgana with a serious expression. “Tiffany told me what you two had been discussing.”

This was one of the tricks I learned as an agent. If you wanted information out of people, pretend as if you were included in their secrets and discussions. If a person felt safe with you, they would reveal everything.

“Really? Well, I guess if you are David’s physical therapist it makes sense she would talk to you about it.”

Nodding, I rubbed my chin. “Of course, it does. That’s why I’m here. What do you think about it, in regard to David, of course.”

She shrugged. “Tiffany would know her son better than anyone, but Henrik, my fiancé, felt he would be able to stand throughout the ceremony. I don’t think Henrik would have thought of forcing David to stand throughout the ceremony, as a groomsman, if he didn’t think he could handle it.”

“Tiffany doesn’t think David could stand as a groomsman during the course of the ceremony because of his strength?” I asked just to be clear I understood.

“Yeah. I’ve met David a few times, and he was so happy for Henrik when he found out we were getting married. He loves Henrik so much and Henrik loves him. We thought it would be a great way to include him. He’s family to Henrik.”

My jaw tightened and I tried to keep my features calm, but it was hard. Tiffany seemed like a good mother, but now I wasn’t so sure as she sheltered her son like that. Sometimes too much of a good thing can turn horribly bad.

“I know he has the strength. I may have only had one session with him, but that boy is stronger than she realizes.” I blinked and wondered for that brief moment if David and my cousin would have been friends.

Ben was David’s age when he died.

“That’s what Henrik thought too. Maybe since you’re his therapist, you can talk to Tiffany. We don’t want to ask David until we have Tiffany’s blessing.” Morgana reached her hand out, laying it on my arm.

It was funny, when Morgana touched me there was no spark. Morgana was beautiful, but Tiffany was the one that dazzled.

I nodded. “Yes, I’ll talk to her.”

“She’s a great mom. Tiffany loves that boy. I’m sure if she knew your opinion, she would see how far he’s come in the last six months.”

Why didn’t her friends see that Tiffany was holding David back? Maybe they didn’t want to see. As much as I had to get this divorce and rectify the PT situation, maybe one more session with David was necessary to convince Tiffany that her son had more strength than she realized.

“I’m heading back to the table. It was nice to meet you, Jagger.” Morgana patted me on the shoulder and walked out of the hallway.

I nodded and waved, lost in thought of how I was going to fix everything with Tiffany. Based on Tiffany’s reaction at the booth, she realized I was the man she married. Would she even let me into her home again?

At least now that she knew, I could easily get her to sign the divorce papers. But how do I convince her that her son had enough strength to stand in a wedding ceremony?

I may not be a family type of man but I liked David. He reminded me how I felt at his age. All I wanted to do when I was young was be a spy. I watched every spy movie ever made, no matter how unrealistic they were.

Scenes of agents sitting at desks filling out endless paperwork don’t make for intriguing storylines.

David appeared to be obsessed in the same way I was, but with ninjas. He needed extra help from me to do the moves that required a lot of strength, but I knew with time and training, he could do them on his own.

If just last year he wasn’t even able to walk and now he can get up and down from crouching positions with some effort, then I am positive that boy could one day do ninja moves. And he would definitely be able to stand in a wedding ceremony.

Just as I was about to move closer to the bar to see if Tiffany had left I ran into a woman, close to my height, with blond hair.

“Excuse me,” I said and was about to move around her when I realized who she was.

“Agent Jagger. When Edgar told me he ran into you a few days ago, I almost didn’t believe him. Considering all you have done for us, I wonder why he hates you so much?” Evaleen Bechmann said as her bright blue eyes flickered between me and the hallway.

She had the sense of an agent. I tried to convince her over a month ago to consider joining the government, but she gave me a knowing smile before telling me no. I was disappointed but understood.

“Edgar and I have a misunderstanding. I’m sure he’ll get over it in time, I know I have.”

She nodded, and I knew only the most trained psychologist would be able to decipher what she was thinking. “Why are you here?”

“It’s government business,” I said.

Her lips thinned as she shook her head. “You’ve upset Tiffany, haven’t you?”

My eyes widened. Dammit, she was good.

“Did Tiffany tell you?”

She smirked. “No, but you just did.”

I couldn’t believe I fell for that. These past few weeks I’ve been struggling to avoid mishaps and focus on work. Making careless mistakes like drinking and getting a quickie wedding, then avoiding seeking the divorce, and now easily giving in to a pedestrian question was now becoming the norm.

Something like that would never have happened to me a few months ago.

“Did she leave?”

Evaleen nodded. “Yes, and before she did Tiffany warned us to stay away from a tall man in a navy T-shirt with unkempt brown hair.”

I groaned. “She told you about the marriage then.”

That was all my fault. If I had taken care of it three weeks ago when I got back from out west, none of this would be happening.

As I stood there beating myself up inside and digging my nails into my scalp to let out some of my stress, Evaleen folded her arms and stared at me.

Her eyes narrowed as her lips curved slightly at the corners.

“Tiffany didn’t tell you, did she? Fuck.”

I wondered how I managed to make it all these years as an agent.

“No. She told us to keep an eye out for a thief. A man, fitting your description, who breaks into people’s homes while they are there and steals their stuff. That the thief almost tricked her but took pity on her and David, so he pretended to be the physical therapist instead.”

“What? How did she assume that? I never said anything about being a thief. It was a mistake. She assumed I was the PT and when I realized how big of a mistake I made back in Vegas, I was . . . It doesn’t matter. I came here tonight to fix everything.” I shook my head at what had occurred.

“Instead you made it worse,” Evaleen said as she leaned back against the hallway wall to let a woman through that was heading toward the restroom.

She bit her lip as her eyes sized me up. Her agent brain was hard at work, and I feared what Evaleen would come up with.

“I was grateful for what you did to help me, my mom, and Edgar last month. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t arrived,” she said.

“It was my job.”

“Regardless, I feel like I owe you. How about I help you with Tiffany? But, in order to do that, I will need you to be honest with me. Explain what happened in Vegas. She is my friend after all, and a wonderful mother to her son.”

How can I tell this woman? She wasn’t a government agent, tested and scrutinized to make sure secrets would always remain secrets.

“Fine, but I can only tell you on one condition,” I said.