by A. S. Green
“Righteous.”
“When you’re done practicing the install with Murray,” Jax says, “come to me. I’ll show you a picture of the woman you’re after. If you feel ready, we’ll go this afternoon.”
“We will?”
“Yeah. I’m going with you.”
He breezes past that little detail like it means nothing, but it means everything to me.
“At any time you’re there, if you feel you don’t have enough time, or it feels out of your control, you bail. We’ll come up with a plan B.”
…
A tinny-sounding bell rings when I open the door and enter Wright Way Insurance Agency. A blonde is sitting at the front desk. It’s the same woman from the photo Jax showed me, but at first she catches me off guard—partly because her hair is up, and partly because she looks too nice to be a thief, especially from someone like her uncle, who I understand is only out of the office because he’s taking his wife on an anniversary cruise.
“May I help you?” the woman asks with a warm smile.
My body feels heavy as I walk toward her. I would say it’s exhaustion from the last few days, but honestly? It’s probably just a reflection of how amped up I am. With any luck, it’s only noticeable to me.
I clear my throat. I’m wearing a wire, so hopefully Jax can hear me and he’s already entered the back with the client’s key.
“Um, yes.” For a second I’m distracted by the small plant on her desk, some kind of succulent in a terra-cotta pot, then I refocus. “I’ve never done this before, but a friend told me I should get some renter’s insurance?” I pose it like a question. I’m just an innocent, small-town girl, alone in the big city for the first time. “I just moved here from Minnesota. I still can’t get over how big everything is here.” I make my eyes go wide.
The woman gives me a closed-lipped smile, then says, “I can absolutely help you with that. The agent is taking a short vacation, so he won’t be able to submit your application until Monday when he gets back. How soon do you need it to be effective?”
“Um…the first of the month?”
“No problem. Do you want to have a seat?”
“Oops! I should probably do that, shouldn’t I?” I sit and clasp my bag in both hands, holding it tightly in my lap. I hope I look like a nervous country mouse instead of a rookie spy kid with a bag full of electronics.
“The apartment broker told me my neighborhood is very, very safe,” I prattle on, “which is good because my mother is already freaking out that I’m here, but my new friend said I should still do something to protect my stuff because you never can be too careful.”
The woman doesn’t acknowledge my comments other than to give me another patient smile.
“Name?” she asks, looking at me from over her computer.
“Oh! Natalie O’Brien. That’s with an I-E-N.” I feel funny using my real name, but with no time for fake credentials, we’re going with what’s on my driver’s license and bank card, just in case she should ask to see something.
“And the address you want to insure?”
I rattle off Denny’s sister’s apartment address as I check out where I could stick the other camera. She doesn’t have a desk lamp. Maybe one camera will have to do. That would give me more time for the keylogger, and that’s the part I’m most nervous about.
A phone rings in another office, and she says, “Excuse me for a second. I’m the only one here today.” She gets up and walks away. This isn’t the distraction Jax planned. He was going to knock something over in the back room. Make a big noise. Did his key not work? Is this his plan B?
I quickly open my bag and unzip the case, shoving the pick camera into the potted plant just as I hear her say goodbye to the caller. Well, at least I had enough time for that. It wasn’t a total bust.
As she comes back, I notice she’s wearing red spike heels with open toes and lots of complicated straps. They must have cost a mint.
“Wow! Awesome shoes,” I tell her. “Are those Jimmy Choos?”
“Yes,” she says proudly. “I just got them. They’re too nice for the office, but I want to break them in a little before I have to spend a whole night on my feet.”
“Good idea. I wore new shoes to my friend Kate’s wedding last year—they weren’t anything as Sarah Jessica Parker as those—and I had to ditch them even before they cut the cake. I swear I still have blister scars.”
The woman sits down and rolls her chair in closer to her desk. “Now what is the value of what you’d like to insure?”
Right then there’s a huge crash from the back room. “What the—” she cries out, and honestly it rattles me a little, too. I wasn’t expecting plan A anymore. I guess we’re back on script.
“Ooh-eee! That sounded bad,” I say. “I can wait. You better check that out.”
“Yeah. One second. I’m so sorry.”
She hustles out of the front office and into the back room. She won’t find Jax, but I know she’ll find a mess. I shoot around the desk and crawl under to where her hard drive is stowed. I flip it around best I can with the tangle of wires she’s got going on. Cable drive, cable drive, cable drive. I think it’s this one. I slip the keylogger into the port and push the cable into the other end. God, I hope that’s right. It looks different than the one Denny and I practiced on, but I don’t see any other alternatives.
“You would not believe—” the woman says as she reenters. “Excuse me, but what—”
“Uff!” I say, trying to stand but cracking my head on the underside of her desk. “Ow!”
I get to my feet and raise both hands to my left ear. “My earring popped off, bounced across your desk, and rolled onto the floor. Can you believe it? Thank God I found it.”
“Oh,” she says, looking down at the floor, then up at my ear.
“Going-away gift from my boyfriend back home. He’s not happy I moved here, y’know what I mean? He’s supposed to visit in a couple weeks, and it would break his heart if I wasn’t wearing his gift.” I sit down again in the chair on the opposite side of the desk and exhale with relief.
She slides a brochure and an application form across the desk and tells me where to sign. I give her a fake phone number, and if anyone checks the apartment address, it won’t be my name they find. Still, I know this is one application the agent, our client, won’t be bothering to follow up on.
“That should do it,” she says after I fill in the value of my property and slide the signed form toward her. I stand and shake her hand, pumping it profusely.
“If you have any questions before Monday”—she pulls her hand back and gives me her business card—“please don’t hesitate to call.”
“Thanks,” I say, glancing at the name on the card. Gennifer. The woman gives me another professional smile. “Thank you for stopping in, and I hope you enjoy living in New York.”
When I get outside, I walk briskly to the corner. Jax pulls up a few seconds later in his Escalade, and I hop in.
We didn’t come together, so this is the first time I’ve been in a car with him since our road trip. In fact, it’s the first time we’ve had more than a few seconds alone. My fingers curl into tight fists, and I bite my lip.
“Did you get it done?” he asks, and I can see the worry in his eyes. Whether it’s for me, or about having to make a report to the client, I can’t tell.
“Pretty much.”
“Pretty much?” He pulls away from the curb and hits the gas hard. We’re not far from the office and traffic is light.
“Keylogger is in, I hope in the right spot. I only got one of the cameras in, though.”
“Should be enough. We’ll check it out when we get back to the office. You did good.”
I shrug. I wish I wasn’t so nervous. “We’ll see when we get back.”
God, what if I’ve let him down? This was my idea, and he trusted me. If I make him look bad, I’m not likely to get another chance.
“Are you okay?” he asks, glancing over.<
br />
I’m suddenly exhausted, boneless, and feeling like I could dissolve into the seat. “Just tired.”
“Adrenaline withdrawal.”
“That would make sense.”
“I meant what I said, Natalie. You did good just going in there, but I heard your performance. You were quick on your feet with the earring bit. You have the knack.”
“Jax, I—” My voice sounds plaintive. There’s so much I want to say, and now that we’re alone I can finally say it.
“I know.” His face has gone soft. We aren’t touching, but his tone feels like a caress.
“What do you know?”
“I know it’s been weird between us. Strained. Whatever. I knew it would be like this. But I did try to warn you.” He glances over, then his eyes go back to the road. “It’s just that I…”
He signals and pulls into JSI’s underground parking. He never finishes his thought, so I’m left wondering, What? Exactly what is keeping us apart?
Jax parks, but neither of us gets out right away. “Y’know, I don’t think any of your employees would be upset if we were together.”
“You might be right.” He exhales a laugh through his nose. “Murray’d be fucking ecstatic. But it’s more than that.” His face looks pained. I don’t get it. Why won’t he let me in? “We better get upstairs.”
When we enter command, Mo is sitting in my chair, looking at the monitors and making adjustments. Denny is standing behind his shoulder, and when his gaze lands on me his eyes crinkle at the corners.
Jax walks quickly to reach the monitors first. He leans in. Taps a few keys. Then turns to face me with wide eyes and a little shake of his head.
“Oh, no! Did I screw it up?”
Denny and Mo laugh. Jax’s face gives me nothing, but he crosses the floor, arm outstretched like he means to shake my hand. Startled, I take his hand, and my heart squeezes at both the joy and the pain of our physical contact.
“Your friend Katherine was right,” Jax says.
“Kate?” I ask. Am I missing something?
“Seems Natalie O’Brien really is the girl no one can live without.”
“Oh!” I say as pride floods my chest. “So it’s working?”
“Like a charm,” Denny says.
Still holding my hand, Jax pulls me in closer, close enough that only I can hear him when he whispers in my ear, “I’m so proud of you.”
His breath against my neck sends a shiver down my arms, and when he pulls back, our hands still clasped, I can see how much that public display has cost him. His eyes drop to my lips, and he swallows hard.
“Thanks,” I say, wishing I could bottle this moment and bathe in it nightly.
Jax’s body jolts as if he heard my unspoken thoughts, but then he pulls his phone out of his pocket and frowns. Without looking up, he storms out of the room.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jackson
I quickly exit command when I see the name on my screen. I only answer the call once I’ve rounded the corner. “Yeah?”
“Is that any way to greet your mother?” There’s a nasty edge to her voice. She always knows what buttons to push.
“Gram was the only one who deserved that title, and she’s dead. How much?”
“Getting right to it, I see.” Full-on bitch.
I lean one hand against the wall. “How. Much?”
“Two grand.”
“Jesus, two grand?” Usually it’s only a couple hundred for food, electric, occasionally rent. “For what?”
“That’s none of your business.”
It isn’t. But she knows she’s not getting a dime if she doesn’t make it my business and make it damn quick.
“I’m…in the hospital.”
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. She could be telling the truth—it’s possible—but history tells me any money I give her will go straight up her nose…or be burned in a pipe…
She keeps talking. “Don’t worry, darling. No need to visit.”
Strange comment, given I hadn’t offered.
“You’d probably only be in the way. Let the doctors do their thing. There isn’t anything you can do to help.”
She’s got a point there. I never understood what visiting someone in the hospital was supposed to accomplish (besides rub it in that they’re the one who’s hurt while you made it out unscathed).
And if she really is in the hospital, she’s right: I’m not a doctor. I can’t make her well. I can’t even get her into treatment. Wait. Is that what she’s doing?
“What kind of hospital?”
She doesn’t answer the question, which actually answers it just fine. She’s not in treatment. Right now I doubt she’s in any kind of hospital, but I’m too tired to fight. I haven’t slept in days.
“Leslie will have it deposited in your account by morning.”
Chapter Forty
Natalie
One Week Later
“Can you do Korean?” Nisi asks me as she plucks away at her keyboard. She hasn’t said much about what she’s working on, but I think it’s a new persona for Jax, given how often he’s stopped at her desk today. Each time he has, we share a look but no words. It’s now been hours since I saw him last.
“You mean speak it?” I ask, not taking my eyes off my screens. It’s only one o’clock, but I’m bone tired. This morning’s rainy weather hasn’t helped, and my socks are still damp.
Gennifer, the potential embezzler I’ve been watching for days, isn’t doing anything to make my day more exciting. So far today she’s answered phones and clipped recipes out of a Good Housekeeping magazine. She’s up to something, though. I’d bet my left tit no one affords Jimmy Choos working in a rinky-dink insurance office.
“No,” Nisi says while laughing. “Eat it. I’m talking Korean food.”
“Oh.” When Gennifer gets up from her desk, I switch on the camera zoom so I can see what shoes she has on today. “Never had it before, but sure.”
“There’s a place a bunch of us go every couple months. Good bibimbap, and then they’ve got karaoke on Thursday nights. You gotta see me get my Gloria Gaynor on.”
“‘I Will Survive,’ I take it?”
“Survive?” Nisi spins around in her chair to face me. “Bitch, I totally crush it.”
I reach forward, still without taking my eyes off my monitors, and give Nisi an exploding fist bump.
Mo walks by, and Nisi says, “New girl’s in.”
“This new girl?” Mo asks, looking around like there could be others. “The one we suddenly can’t live without?”
“Stop,” I say. It felt good when Jax said it before, and I can’t deny that I like Mo’s assessment, but I know it’s not really true. Every member of Jax’s team is amazingly talented.
I stifle a yawn and stretch in my chair, but then something causes me to squint at my top center screen. Little Miss Office Manager is starting to look a wee bit shifty. She’s leaned in to her computer, typing quickly, and she’s looked over her shoulder toward her uncle’s office no fewer than five times in the last minute.
One of my monitors is picking up her keystrokes and converting it into screen shots. She’s logged in to the online banking. I note the time on my computer so the client can check the time stamps on his bank withdrawals. I also jot down the time ticker on the monitor so Denny can watch the tape back.
While I’m doing that, somebody enters the command center from reception. “Welcome back, Spanos!” Nisi says. “We’re going to Hoban tonight.”
I haven’t seen Nick Spanos since my first day, because he’s been on the road tracking a particularly difficult skip across New Jersey. He comes to stand beside me at my desk. Out of the corner of my eye I can tell he’s in similar clothes to the last time I saw him: black nylon track pants and a black polo with the JSI logo. Hair pulled back in a man bun. He still reminds me of a cage fighter.
“You goin’?” he asks me, which seems weird because I don’t really know him.
Weirder still because he’s now got one hand on the back of my chair, one on my desk, and he’s leaning in. He hasn’t crossed too much into my personal space—yet—but he’s definitely coming on strong.
I jot a few notes on a pad of paper without reacting to him. “And miss Disco Nisi? No way.”
Nisi chuckles and shakes her head.
“Natalie’s in, I’m in,” Nick says, straightening, but with his hand still on my chair. “I can catch up on my Netflix shows another night.”
“Got a table reserved for seven o’clock,” Nisi says.
“Does everyone go?” I ask.
“Pretty much,” Mo says. “Unless you’re on night shift, you don’t miss Hoban.”
“Gotcha!” I exclaim, meaning Gennifer. She’s just transferred money to an unnamed account. I bet I know who owns it. “Gennifer with a G, you can kiss those Jimmy Choos goodbye.”
Nisi hoots, and Mo gives me a high five. Nick gives my shoulder a squeeze and says, “Attagirl.”
Someone clears his throat, and Nick steps to the side, revealing Jax, who has suddenly arrived and is standing beside my station.
“What’s going on?” His eyes are on Nick’s hand on the back of my chair, and his gaze rises to give him a hard look.
“My girl here just got her man,” Nick says, and Jax’s already hard look shifts into a death glare.
The caveman attitude is ridiculous, of course, but I have to admit it gives me a thrill to know Jax hasn’t totally cooled to me.
“Natalie clocked her first thief,” Nisi says with pride, oblivious to their testosterone standoff, “and we’re going to Hoban after work to cel-e-brate!”
“Are you going to come?” I ask Jax.
“No,” he says.
“But you’ve got to come.” I’m practically begging. He needs this. I need this. Some time away from work to remember what we’re like together. “You never take a break.”
There’s a beat of silence as everyone registers what I’ve said or—more to the point—how I’ve said it. In other words, like a whiny girlfriend.
