TWELVE
The source of the buzzing barely registered in my sleepy brain as my peaceful slumber ended.
Waking wasn’t such a bad thing because as my senses began to become aware, I felt the warm body next to me. She rolled away and I groaned, reaching out to try to pull her back.
Alex did come back soon enough. “Somebody named Zane Alexander is calling you,” she said.
I squinted against the morning light and saw the cell phone she retrieved from the nightstand on her side of the bed glowing in her hand.
She thrust the device toward me and I groaned for an entirely different reason now. I was going to have to get out of bed and take this damn call.
“Thanks.” I took the phone and sat up, swinging my legs out from under the tangled covers and over the side of the mattress.
Why did Zane insist on calling when he could text instead?
I had a vague memory of shooting him a text at one point last night asking if he knew where our Russian was going to be this weekend because his female counterpart would be in New York for the event at the Museum of Modern Art.
Even though this crack of dawn phone call was probably my own doing, I still chose to be annoyed at him.
I slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind me so I wouldn’t disturb Alex any further before I answered the call.
“Dude, you can’t wait until the sun is up to bother me?” I dispensed with pleasantries given the hour.
Zane let out a short laugh. “Wow, you’re in a mood. For your information, the sun has been up for two hours. What’s wrong? You strike out last night? Cranky you didn’t get laid?”
It was petty and childish and definitely not gentlemanly behavior on my part but I couldn’t resist correcting him. “Wrong on both counts.”
“Really? Well, then there’s no reason for you to be acting like such an ass—oh. Wait. She’s still there.” There was far too much amusement in Zane’s tone for my liking.
And why the fuck was he so awake and chipper this early on a Saturday morning. I remembered he was married now. That had to be it. He probably had been sound asleep by nine p.m. last night.
With that justification making me happy, I said, “Not that it’s any of your business but yes. Why are you calling so early?”
“Dude, it’s not that early. I already ran five miles and had breakfast.”
I scowled at his level of energy. “Because you have no life.”
“Because I’m not out catting around like you.”
“You would be if you hadn’t found Missy.” I glanced back at the closed bedroom door and wondered why I was standing on the wrong side of it fighting with Zane when I could be back in bed making love to Alex. “Can we continue this debate when I’m back in Virginia?”
“And when will that be?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. Probably Monday.” I chose to assume my weekend was going to continue on the same tract—me and Alex and my bed with brief interludes for sustenance and to show our faces at the fundraiser. “I can get the comm unit back to you then.”
“I’m not worried about the comm. I’m concerned about that cryptic text you sent me.”
My guess had been correct. I’d inflicted this torturous conversation on myself by texting Zane last night. My one-time assignment for him might be over but I still felt the responsibility of it weighing on me.
“I’m attending another event in the city tonight. One Viktoria Mikhelson will be at as well. I just wanted to make sure Mordashov wasn’t back in the country.”
“I’ll check it out. As far as I know he’s still in the UK but as I told you before, your debt to me is paid. You don’t have to worry anymore. You’re done, Rosebud.”
I sighed, really regretting my code name idea more with every conversation I had with Zane. I should have known better. He never could resist an opportunity at mockery. Not as a kid and obviously not now.
“You’re a dickhead. You know that?”
“I love you too, bro. Oh, and why don’t you take the comm with you to this event tonight.”
“What?” I hadn’t even gotten around to making coffee yet but I was wide awake now, on alert as Zane did a one-eighty. He said he wasn’t concerned about the Russian. That I was done with my assignment for him. But his telling me to wear the comm to the event told another story.
“Why?” I asked. “Do you think something big might go down?”
He laughed. “No, I don’t think something big might go down because we’re not inside an episode of Hawaii Five-0. But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. You might have something interesting to tell me.”
Every muscle in my body tensed. Zane might joke around—a lot—but in the middle he’d casually sneak in something vitally important, like he had just now.
It was almost as if he’d hoped I wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t question it. That I’d just take the comm and roll with whatever happened next.
The SEAL on the phone with me might be able to do that. But since I was just a normal man, not one of the nation’s elite warriors, I wasn’t so sure I could.
“Brent, seriously, I’m not worried. I promise you.”
“Then why do you want me to carry the comm?”
“Because it’s better to have and not need, than to need and not have.”
That philosophy, worthy of Doctor Seuss in its delivery, contained way too many words for me to untangle at the moment.
As I sifted through his meaning, Zane continued, “Won’t it make you feel better to have it on you?”
“Yes.” That was one thing I was certain of.
“So there you go. Take it with you.”
“I will. But I’m not taking the gun.”
“Agreed. Concealed carry restrictions in Manhattan can be tricky.”
At least I’d won one battle with him. “Will you get back to me if you find out anything new about the Russian’s location?”
“I will.”
“All right.” I glanced again at the door. “I’ll, uh, talk to you later?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Go ahead. Get back to whoever she is warming your bed.”
I decided to piss him off. “I will. It’s Alexandra from the party, by the way.”
“What? I told you to steer clear of—”
I was already on my way to the bedroom and too close to the door to say what I wanted to—namely fuck off—without Alex hearing from inside the bedroom. Instead I said, “Good bye, Zane.”
I disconnected the call before pushing open the door. I startled when I found Alex standing just inside it.
“Hey. Sorry about that.” I held up the cell. “Old friend who doesn’t respect boundaries when it comes to early calls on weekend mornings.”
“It’s okay. I figured I’d get up and check my phone as long as I was awake. Make sure there were no emergencies.” She held up her own cell.
“Any volunteer emergencies, you mean?”
“Don’t laugh. They happen.”
“Well, even volunteers need personal time.” I tossed my cell on top of the dresser to free my hands for more important things. Reaching out, I pulled her toward me.
Alex held up one finger. “Hold that thought. I just want to run to the bathroom.”
“Of course.” I dropped my hold on her waist and watched as she turned, cell still in her hand, and headed for the bathroom.
I didn’t think much about that. Sad but true, I’d been known to check my messages while on the toilet.
She’d be back soon enough. Then we’d get back to business.