Ella hadn’t said much on the car ride to the airport, or when we boarded the commercial flight booked for us. She wore, what I thought looked like, a mask of muted emotion. She was neither happy nor unhappy. If anything, she seemed like a human shell devoid of emotion. It made me more than a little uncomfortable to see it. And I couldn’t help but wonder what to say, or how to act around her.

The plane bumped down the runway. The hum of the engine grew louder as the pilot pushed the heaving metal can forward, making everything shudder before the ground disappeared under the wheels and inertia shoved me back against my seat.

At least whoever had booked our seats thought to put us in first class and not the cramped seating in economy, I thought as I stretched my legs out. Plus, it gave us a little more privacy to talk about the mission. I’d read the file, and it was pretty cut and dry. Arrive at the Port of Miami, board the multi-million-dollar privately owned yacht christened The Enchantress, and then pretend to be someone else for a leisurely four weeks.

And who the hell could afford the use of a private yacht for a four-week vacation? Apparently, the bride’s father was loaded. And not only that, but the bride, Allyson, was none other than Ella’s childhood best friend.

I glanced over at her as she stared out the window, watching an ocean of clouds swallowing us whole. How would Ella handle pulling the wool over Allyson’s eyes for four weeks? I knew I’d have a hell of a time keeping any sort of secret from my own friends.

I’d cornered Oliver before we’d left, asking how Ella was requested if no one was supposed to know the identity of Cole Enterprise operatives.

It was simple. He’d said, “Garret Baron is a high-profile client of Cole Enterprise. Has been for years. He’s the reason we have Ella.”

I’d meant to ask more, but we’d been interrupted. Between packing and being ushered to the airport, there hadn’t been time.

“Ella…” I said her name cautiously, turning in my seat once the plane leveled off. Her head, never leaving the headrest, rolled my way.

I fought the urge to fidget. What was it about her that made me feel so jittery… so not myself? Then again, I’d always had the support of my friends around me, and I wore the comfort their presence gave me like an invisible cloak.

I used the jarring bout of turbulence to gather my thoughts. Pull yourself together, damn it. She’s the same girl you spent time with in Barbados.

Ella shifted in her seat and, with each singular movement, something woke up inside of her.

“Do you have the file?” she asked, sitting forward and giving me her full attention.

I shook my head. “I left it with Oliver.”

Ella groaned, head bouncing back, once again, to the headrest. Her fingers came up, pinching the bridge of her nose as she fumed. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t just wing it if I haven’t got a clue what it is.”

I fought the urge to berate her. To give her a little bit of hell for being so wrapped up in finding a dead man that she’d put us in a situation that, if not handled right, could get us the same big fat red check-marked box next to the words deceased on our own files.

She jolted forward, snatched up her travel bag from under the seat, yanked out her wallet, and then jerked the air phone from the back of the seat in front of her. The black credit card slid inside the card reader as Ella put the phone to her ear.

I sat back, arms crossed, wondering who the hell she planned to call. It wasn’t as if room service was available thousands of feet in the air. But I knew a man should sometimes watch before opening his mouth and demanding answers. The bottom of a situation could be gotten to a whole lot quicker when the other person had a chance to purge everything out so it could be pieced all together.

“Oliver,” she snapped. A second later, “Why are you laughing, asshole. You knew I needed that file to look over the mission. Why the hell didn’t you send it with him?”

Him? Oliver had asked for it back. I’d given it to him, thinking he was going to give it to Ella to go over. What was Oliver playing at?

She bristled beside me. “Send it to me.” A short pause. “I don’t care,” she continued, her voice rising to a level of desperation. “Send me pictures if you have to, but I’m not going in blind.”

I watched as her face morphed between every angered emotion. Her face pinched, lips pulling into a firm, thin line as she listened to whatever Oliver said. She was like watching a tornado rip through a town. Everything about her was wild and unpredictable, and it stirred something in me I’d rather keep locked up.

A moment later, Ella let the phone fall from her hand and then shoved up from her seat. When she moved into the aisle and marched off toward the bathroom, I blindly reached for the phone, dangling from its cord, and put it up to my ear, smiling at the attendant as she passed me by.

“Ella.” Oliver’s voice barked into my ear. “Ella, listen to me.”

“No, it’s Josh,” I said as I sat up a little more.

He groaned. “You’ll need to fill her in on the mission. I hope you remembered everything you read in that file, because I’m not sending anything to either of you because files don’t leave here. She knows better than to even ask.” Oliver sounded completely put out. Even a bit wary. Which given the situation, I’d feel the same if our roles were reversed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I outline it all for her,” I said as my stomach tightened. “At least she knows the client. Filling the rest in won’t be difficult. But… what’s our cover?” Nothing had been outlined in the file, and Oliver had never told me. I’d thought he’d spoken about it with Ella since the two of them had way more experience with undercover missions.

“I’m leaving that up to you. I told Ella that the other day,” he said with a clipped sigh.

I couldn’t tell if it was his patience slipping, or if it were an admittance of some sort of defeat.

“Look, Ella knows the client better than any of us. I told her that, which was why she was supposed to come up with your cover story. Had she done what I said instead of spending countless nights up looking for that traitor, she wouldn’t be in her current situation.” He paused. “But,” he continued, his tone loosening up, “she didn’t. So now it’s up to you to fill her in. You two need to have a solid plan before you get off that airplane.”

I gripped the phone a little tighter in my hand, nodding along with what Oliver said as if he were face to face with me as I said, “Don’t worry, we’ll get it figured out.”

“Figured out?” he said, his voice heightening.

I squirmed in my seat.

“No, Josh, you better be ready to put on an Oscar-winning performance. Nail this shit down and stick with it. No matter what. Understood?”

I gritted my teeth. “Perfectly. I understand perfectly. Bye, Oliver.”

I hung up the phone and moved back into my seat, arms crossed firmly over my chest as I stared out the window, looking at the endless stretch of clouds under the belly of the plane. He wanted me to brief someone who was about as easy to talk to as a wall. Someone whose current mindset was stuck on a man who had betrayed her, and not the mission set before us.

I couldn’t help but wonder if the mission was already doomed. And if that were the case, we should just turn around and board the next flight home. To hell with the high-profile client and his spoiled daughter. As selfish as it was, our lives meant more to me.