“Usually,” she replied, before saying, “but I can make tea for myself at home. You’re the coffee master, so I was hoping for something a little stronger.”
“Hmmm,” Joe said as he put honey into a spoon instead of sugar. “I’m guessing you’ve had more than enough caffeine from the amount of chocolate you consumed, and adding more in the form of coffee might make you feel worse instead of better.” After a brief pause, he brought her the tea and reminded her, “Sometimes, too much of a good thing is just too much.”
“And sometimes the fun of a good binge is worth the consequences,” she argued, accepting the cup he offered, not doing much to mask her disappointment.
Joe seemed to find her lack of gratitude amusing and sat down on the love seat opposite her with a smile on his face before he picked up a mug big enough to hold a serving of chili and took a swallow of his coffee.
“Are you gloating over the fact that you have coffee, and I have…” Ellie glanced down into her mug and noticed that whatever was in the tea was turning the water yellow. “What do I have?”
At that question, Joe laughed out loud. “You have something I blended and keep on hand for when I need to relax.”
“Coffee helps me relax,” she nearly pouted as she spoke.
“No,” Joe disagreed, a slight smile crinkling the skin at the corner of his eyes. “Coffee is familiar and delicious, so you enjoy the sensation of drinking it, but that isn’t the same thing as relaxing. When you’re done with it, you usually end up wanting to do something because of the jolt from the caffeine. That tea is a blending of several plants, flowers, and herbs designed to be calming, not stimulating.”
“Hmmph...” Ellie hated it when somebody made an argument so logical that she couldn’t debate the point, so she gave her attention to the mini garden floating in what looked like a white silk sachet in her cup. Realizing he wasn’t going to bend on this, she took a sip so she could complain about the taste, but found herself pleasantly surprised at how smooth it went down.
“Don’t worry,” he interrupted her second taste to say. “I won’t make you admit that it’s good. I can tell from the look on your face that you’re surprised at how much you like it.”
“Is part of your job description knowing everything?” Ellie teased.
“No, it’s just a gift,” he returned. “Was your big chocolate dinner some place fancy?”
“Fancy?” Ellie repeated.
“Yeah,” he answered, “You’ve been here around work hours, so I know what your usual dressed-up appearance is like, but something’s different—more, somehow.”
“I spent a couple of days with my mother, and this is all her doing,” Ellie confessed.
“So the makeup and curls in your hair aren’t something you plan on repeating regularly?” Joe leaned forward as he asked.
“Oh God, no,” she quickly assured him. “I mean, every girl likes to get gussied up every so often, but this is all Janice’s handiwork.”
“You call your mother by her first name?” He wasn’t judging, but he was clearly interested in the answer.
“Not to her face,” Ellie replied. “But she and I are different, and when I think about her, I often use her name because her persona isn’t exactly motherly; although, from time to time, she has given me some great advice.”
“Most mothers do,” Joe agreed, throwing an arm over the back of the love seat, making the point he was getting comfortable because there was more to be said on this subject. “What good advice has she given you?”
Ellie thought what might be appropriate to share. Janice was full of advice, but not all of it fell into the “good” category. “How to prepare the perfect martini,” she began, seeing from his expression that he found her first answer funny, but insufficient. “She taught me that when things get overwhelming and you don’t know what to do, you focus tightly on something—anything, really—until you have it reduced to a minute-detail level. Then you can lose yourself in the details, and because they are so tedious and insignificant, they’re much easier to handle.”
“How did she manage to teach that to a young girl?”
“Not when I was young,” Ellie corrected his assumption. “She taught me that five years ago, when I lost my dad. It was…hard.” Ellie grimaced at how inadequate the description was. “I’m not a gushy person by nature, and trying to handle making a name for myself at the Bureau and deal with the hole of not having him around was overwhelming. She came to my apartment one day, the only time she’s ever done that, and sat me down, helping me to come up with a plan of what needed to be done. She kept pushing me to get more and more specific until I was looking at details so trivial, there was no emotional attachment and it was easier to function.”
“Hmm...”
The sound Joe made gave Ellie the impression he wasn’t entirely sure that advice was such a good idea. At the time, it had helped her to function and move on with her life. But in the context of the conversation she’d just had with Anne about how much she had changed over the last few years, she began to wonder if she’d followed Janice’s advice a little too well. Perhaps that was just meant to be a temporary coping mechanism, not a lifestyle choice.
Seeing that she was getting lost in her head, Joe pulled her back, “And in a recent visit, she was still handing out handy tips.”
Ellie looked down at her newly manicured fingernails and smiled. “I think she’s given up on ever teaching me to do this to myself and instead looks at me as more of a project that needs to be fixed up, whereas I’m perfectly happy in my skin as it is and the window dressing makes me feel like an actress. It’s just one of many areas where we don’t see eye to eye.”
“So she thinks you need to be painted and polished and you don’t?”
“Among other things,” she agreed, nodding. “Painted, polished, married, in the suburbs, and devoid of any danger or excitement.”
“Are you an adrenaline junkie?” Joe was amused once more and managed to smile at her without making Ellie feel she was being laughed at.
“No, but I do like the idea of deciding for myself what I want to do,” she clarified.
“And your mother wants to do it instead,” he said, trying to understand.
“Her, or a husband,” Ellie added. “Either would be fine to Janice.”
“And you think having a husband would prevent you from making your own decisions?” When he spoke the words, his intonation went up at the end, implying it was a question, but the look on his face told her he had just realized something about her.
The silence stretched as she delayed in answering. Finally, she decided he had been nothing but kind to her since they met, and even if he’d denied her request for coffee this time, he was still the person most likely to feed her addiction over the long haul, so irritating him wasn’t in her best interest. Plus, there was something about the way he was looking at her that made her comfortable. Her usual aversion to sharing about her life didn’t jump up and keep her from talking.
“I think the right husband wouldn’t.” Choosing her words carefully, she continued, “But so far, I haven’t had much luck in finding someone who understands that the brain they seem to appreciate when they meet me isn’t something I’m going to turn off for their convenience as we get to know each other.”
“Maybe you’ve met the right one and you just haven’t recognized it,” he offered.
Ellie broke eye contact, something her father had drilled into her to never do. But trying to hold his gaze and understand exactly what he’d meant by that last comment was more than she could handle, so she looked into her tea instead. Weren’t there people who thought tea leaves could tell the future? All she could see was a small flower floating on top of a bunch of leaves in a bag. Ellie wasn’t sure what that might imply.
“The answers to life aren’t in the bottom of that cup any more than they would be at the bottom of a bottle,” Joe advised after the quiet began to grow once more.
“No,”
she agreed, finding the strength to look up. “I figure they’re at the bottom of a great piece of cake, and until I find it, I see it as my duty to keep trying all of them I can.”
As if sensing she needed a change in subject, Joe smiled, though it didn’t seem as genuine as his earlier ones had. “In that case, I’ll see if I can’t learn how to bake too, to be sure I keep you coming to my shop.”
“So you aren’t a fan of the makeover my mother insisted I needed?”
“You look great,” he wisely complimented. “But I think you look stunning when you’re in jeans and a T-shirt with your hair pulled back and a smile on your face.”
“I haven’t come to see you when I looked like that,” she argued.
“Not me specifically,” he agreed easily, “but you’ve come by the shop for a cup of coffee, and I noticed.” This time, his eyes lit up when he smiled her way. “In fact, it was that exact look that had me pulling my cousin aside to ask about you.”
Ellie couldn’t wait to get home and call her mother to say her natural face and uncurled hair had gotten the attention of the man in front of her. Then she realized that meant she had his attention and was suddenly worried that she didn’t know what she was supposed to do with it. Honestly, she’d never been a recluse; she’d just gotten out of practice over the last few years, so that was why this felt so new. The fluttering in her stomach, she rather enjoyed, but the fact that her face seemed to be warming and no doubt blushing, she wasn’t as fond of.
“Are you still on vacation, or are you heading back into the office tomorrow?” Joe prompted, giving her something to talk about other than his roundabout compliment.
“I’m going to the office,” she easily shared. “I was going to take the whole week off, but the three days I’ve missed are enough to do what I wanted.”
“You miss it,” he pointed out before draining his coffee and setting the bowl with a handle on the table between them.
“I like what I do,” she said, feeling the honestly of the words. “And there’s a case I’m working on that’s bugging me, so if I try to sit at home and stare at the walls, I’m just going to end up opening the file. If I’m going to do that, I may as well suit up and show up.”
“Are vacations that much of a burden for you?” He was back to finding her amusing, which Ellie preferred over him being flattering.
“Not if I have something to do, but I’ve taken care of everything I wanted to, and I hate to be bored, so it’s time to head back in.” As she spoke, she looked down to her watch and realized she’d taken enough of his time for one evening.
“Tomorrow’s not an early day for me, but I’ll be around late if you want to stop by.”
“Not for tea,” she warned, trying to sound stern, even though she’d enjoyed the drink he’d made for her and had finished every drop.
“Not for tea,” he repeated softly, making her think they were talking about something other than her beverage.
Ellie drove to her apartment on autopilot, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. Janice had promised her that men liked being hit by the women they were interested in. She didn’t think her makeover had that effect on him, but she could certainly testify to feeling dazed.
Chapter Twelve
“Why are you back?” Phil demanded, tapping his rubber-tipped cane on the floor, as though sending a message via Morse code that Ellie wasn’t able to interpret.
Unable to ignore the fact that there was a definite pattern to his tapping, she held up her hand. “Will you stop banging on my floor and tell me what’s bugging you? I’ve never gotten in trouble for showing up at work before.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” he replied, obviously annoyed at something.
Even though he was scowling in her general direction, years of working with the man told her it wasn’t actually Ellie that had him on edge. She tried one of his tricks and just stared at her boss, hoping he’d cave and explain what had set him off.
With a final hard smack on the floor, he stopped moving his cane and rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his closed eyes. “We need to talk.”
No good conversations began with those four words. Usually, people dreaded it when someone they were dating used them, but in this setting, they were equally ominous.
“Have I done something wrong?”
The fact that Phil didn’t answer and moved into her office in order to shut the door did nothing to calm her newfound fears. He hobbled slowly to the chair in front of her desk and lowered himself, giving the appearance that the movement was more difficult than usual.
“Are you okay?” Suddenly, her concern that she might be in trouble was overshadowed by the fact that Phil was in pain. Ellie knew his knee and leg gave him trouble every so often, and he usually made a joke out of it. But the man in front of her was the closest thing she had to a father figure, and she had the nearly uncontrollable urge to tell him he could yell at her later, but right now, he needed to go home.
“Stop looking at me like some kind of mother hen,” Phil snipped once he stopped moving. “I get enough of that from my wife.” He glared at his current cane, which appeared to have the word “help” in bold lettering and various languages. Apparently, Phil had been sent to the office with a subtle hint that he wasn’t in the best shape ever.
“Then stop looking like you’re suffering,” Ellie countered, realizing she enjoyed fussing at her boss. It might not be the traditional FBI chain-of-command-type of relationship, but it worked down here in the bowels of the building.
“You were supposed to be out of the office through Monday.” He seemed to be ignoring her comment, which only reinforced that he was in pain.
“I finished up everything I needed to do, and since I figured I’d just be sitting at home going through files anyway, I might as well come in where the internet speed is better.”
He made a sound, as though her logic made sense but he still didn’t like it. “I don’t believe in scaring people unnecessarily, but you can’t be here.”
“Why not?” Ellie was pleased her voice was even when she spoke. He might not want to scare her, but his comment couldn’t really do anything else.
“Because I’m getting some pressure to expand your job duties, and until I figure out where it’s coming from, I was more comfortable being able to tell people you were on vacation and out of contact.”
“What kind of expanded job duties?” This was a setting where breaking down something big into smaller chunks wasn’t going to be possible.
“Field duty,” Phil mumbled.
Ellie leaned forward, trying to pick one question out of the dozens that there floating around in her head.
“The higher-ups saw where you connected the dots between two paper-thin cases, and they’re impressed with what you picked up on. Right now, the only real leads are ones you came up with. Because there are two offices involved, they want to pick a lead agent to do the leg work on the investigation, and they are leaning on me to make you do it.”
“I can’t do an investigation,” Ellie blurted out what should have been obvious.
“Can’t isn’t the right word here,” Phil replied. “Technically, you can. You have the same training as every single agent in the field. Hell, if anything, you have twice as much because of how your father hauled you around from the time you were old enough to see out the windshield of his car. I can’t make an argument for what you can’t do. I have to make the argument on what you won’t do, and quite frankly, people who outrank me seem to want this badly, so even that isn’t working. My hope had been to delay it long enough that something else would break in the case and they would have to tap someone else to handle it in a timely way.”
“I don’t want to go in the field,” Ellie reminded him. “I’m good at reviewing files, but I won’t be as effective in a real-life situation.”
“If I believed that, this might be easier,” Phil told her, holding her gaze in a way that she thought was sign
ificant. Suddenly, she found herself wishing he’d start tapping his cane so she could focus on that as a distraction. “The truth is, you don’t know how effective you’d be in a real-life situation.”
“You’re wrong about that,” Ellie interrupted, remembering her last field op. “I’ve been in a real-life situation, and it completely fell apart because of me. I have no interest in reliving that and putting other people in danger. Why are they trying to pull me into this? There are hundreds of agents practically begging for a chance to make a name for themselves who would jump at this opportunity. Why won’t they use one of them?”
“I don’t know,” he leveled with her, sounding defeated in some way. “I’ve tried to figure out the motivation behind this, and I’ve been shut down at every turn. I feel like there’s more going on than what I can dig up, but I can’t figure it out, and until I do, I can’t shake the feeling that doing this will paint a bulls-eye on your back. Why anybody would want to do that after all the good you’ve done down here, I have no idea.”
Ellie thought about it and couldn’t come up with an answer to the question either. As far as she knew, she didn’t have any enemies within the Bureau. She got along with all her co-workers in this department, and the people on the upper floors either ignored her or seemed to appreciate any assistance she offered. She was barely noticeable—something she’d gone through a lot of intentional effort to achieve. She couldn’t help but think about her father’s list of potentially dirty agents, and remembered one of them was in California. But he was high enough now that handing out menial field assignments was well below his position. The comings and goings of a desk agent wouldn’t even register with him so Ellie easily dismissed it as a possible reason she was receiving such unwanted attention.
“And now you show up today, when I know somebody is going to come knocking, demanding to see you, and you look…” Phil gave her a once-over, as though seeing her for the first time. “Well, you look different—hell, you look good, actually.” He shook his head, as though trying to clear out the distraction. “Today of all days, you had to come in looking refreshed and all dolled up.” The rest of his thought was just mumbled, but Ellie was pretty sure it included something about her makeover making his job twice as hard.
A Killer Cup of Joe Page 14
