The Secrets Duet

by Brownell, Rachael

  I power up my laptop and get the process rolling. It’s getting late, but I don’t care. Once I’ve done all that I can for the night, I text Scott and Branch with specific instructions as to what is happening now and what they need to do next. I have at least a few days’ worth of work ahead of me before things will be taken care of and I have a feeling time might not be on my side.

  I close up shop and head home. I drive by Maggie’s on my way and see her lights are off. It makes me wonder if she’s awake and thinking about me like I’m thinking about her. Or, is she awake and plotting against me?

  8.

  Maggie

  Day three. It feels like day thirty for some reason. As I walk into the office everyone is going about their business, nodding out of courtesy in my direction as I make my way towards my office. Today will be the first day Taylor and I will be in the office together. I can’t help but wonder if things will be different between us. I also can’t help but wonder if I’ll be able to get anything done, knowing the only thing separating us is a wall.

  I find Taylor sitting in my chair, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He’s so handsome that, for a minute, all I can do is stand in the doorway and stare at him like an idiot. I think back to my call with Montgomery this morning. His voice is floating around in my head, telling me to get my head on straight. He deflected all my questions about why he didn’t answer his phone last night and kept the conversation focused on how I was going to gather evidence and information while Taylor was in the office with me.

  I only remember about half of what he told me at this moment. The other half of my brain is focused solely on the sexy man sitting in my new office chair. I only picked it out last night and I’m not sure how it arrived already, but it’s not the chair which has my attention. He knows I’m here, but he has yet to look up from his newspaper and make eye contact with me.

  I clear my throat and take a deep breath, unsure of what I’m about to say. I open my mouth to speak when he finally looks up and our eyes meet. Today his are the clearest blue I’ve seen them. We stare at each other for what feels like forever. I try to avert my eyes, but his begin to deepen in color and it’s almost as if he’s drawing me in by just looking at me.

  He glances away first, then returns his eyes to slowly take me in. I feel his gaze as it travels down my body and back up again. I feel my body responding to him. The longer he stares, the more intense my craving for his touch becomes. By the time his eyes meet mine again, they are stormy and I’m about ready to pass out. My body is on fire and he hasn’t moved from my chair. Damn, he’s good at this.

  “Magdelyn,” he says, drawing my name out. His voice is deep and sexy and I almost close my eyes.

  “Mr. Taylor,” I say, finding my professional front which I lost for a moment. “How are you this morning, sir?” Oh, shit! I know better than to call him sir. I only slip up when he’s under my skin. I guess that’s a good way to put it. Right now he’s so far under my skin that I hope he never leaves. So much for my professional front.

  “I’m good and you?” His voice hasn’t changed. Maybe he didn’t notice my slip up.

  “Good, thank you. Is my new chair comfortable?” I need to move this conversation in a new direction. If I talk about work or work related items then maybe I’ll stop fantasizing about him naked right now. I wonder if it’s as glorious in real life as I imagine it to be. Maybe it’s better.

  “Your chair is extremely comfortable, actually. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He has a smirk on his face which I haven’t seen before. I’ve seen “devious” Taylor and “happy” Taylor, but I’ve never seen this look before. His lips are curled up slightly on the left and his eyebrow is raised. What is he thinking?

  “Well, thank you for breaking it in for me. Is there anything special you would like me to start on this morning?” I regain control of my legs and begin the short walk in his direction. I set my purse down on the couch and remove my jacket. His eyes never leave my body as I move and he doesn’t respond right away.

  “There are a few things which need to be addressed. Scott and I have been looking to cut ties with a few of our clients for various reasons. I’ve emailed you a list of clients who need to be informed we are pulling our investments from them. Can you please draft a letter to be sent? No reason needs to be given as most of the clients are aware already. After that, find me.” He stands and moves in my direction, stalking towards me like I’m his prey and he doesn’t want to scare me away. He must not realize that I’m already trapped in his web and have no clue as to how to untangle myself from him.

  “I’ll start on that right now, sir.” Shit! I see the recognition on his face this time.

  I move to walk around him, but he blocks my path. “Miss Becker, what have I told you about calling me sir?”

  “My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend you and I will try not to do it again.” I look down to the floor, embarrassed that I called him sir not only once but twice this morning.

  “You didn’t offend me, but I think we need to remedy the situation.” He’s standing directly in front of me now and as I take a step back to put space between us, he grabs my hips and pulls me into his embrace. His lips descend on mine and I close my eyes, wanting this more than anything. I feel his breath as he speaks only inches from where I want him to be. “If I kiss you, do you think you will stop calling me sir? Do you think it will help if you think of me as someone other than your boss?”

  “I don’t know,” I reply as I exhale. My body shivers as he runs his hand up my back to the nape of my neck. I expect him to pull my lips to his, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses me on the cheek, so close to my lips that they pucker from the sensation.

  “I’ll see you later this morning.”

  When I find the strength to open my eyes, he’s walking out of my office and into his, closing the door softly behind him. I need a serious reality check. This man is compromising more than just my assignment at the moment. He’s compromising my heart. How is that possible if I’ve known him for less than a week?

  I work furiously to get the letter drafted, knowing my reward for getting it done quickly will be to see Taylor. As I type the last sentence, a wave of reality washes over me. I’m not supposed to feel this way. I’m not supposed to want to see him this bad, to be close to him like I was earlier. My body is not supposed to want his. I can’t help but think that I haven’t heeded Montgomery’s warning. He warned me Taylor would get under my skin as a tactic to figure out whose side I was on.

  Thinking back over the last week, I’m pretty sure he stopped using that tactic the first day we met. Or, maybe that’s what he wants me to think. I want to believe Taylor wants me for me, but that’s not accurate either. If that’s who he wants, then he wants me for the person I’m pretending to be. In a way, I guess he wants me for me, but if you aren’t being one hundred percent honest with someone then you’re lying to them. I’m lying to him all the time. If he ever figured that out, he wouldn’t want me anymore.

  My heart aches at the thought as I save my work and send it to the printer. I try to focus on my assignment, as an agent, as I knock on Taylor’s door and ignore the churning of my stomach and the pain in my chest. I never imagined I would sink this deep when I signed on for this assignment. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this job isn’t right for me.

  “Come in,” he hollers. I open the door to find him behind his desk, tapping his keyboard with an angry scowl on his face.

  “I’ve finished. Would you like to look it over before I send it out?” I don’t move from the doorway. I’m not scared of the look on his face, but I can tell someone or something has angered him and I don’t plan to take the backlash for it.

  He turns his head towards me and his scowl softens before turning into a smile which lightens my heart. Damn it! My body and mind need to get control of themselves because there is no way I can control them.

  “No, I trust you.” Really? That’s not a good idea. “Why don’t
you send it out and then we can go for an early lunch?”

  “Sure,” I say without hesitating. I should have hesitated. I jumped at the opportunity to have lunch with him. I’m supposed to be playing hard to get and here I am practically throwing myself at him. I need to learn to show a little restraint.

  I hold my composure all through lunch and the rest of the afternoon. Taylor gives me a list of administrative tasks which need to be done and I go about doing them. I try to dig into each client as he has me working on little things, but nothing strikes me as unusual or noteworthy. I keep waiting for something to jump out at me and strike me as the lead we are looking for, but nothing is.

  I get my things ready to go shortly after five. I haven’t seen Taylor since lunch so I knock on his door to say goodnight. No response. I knock again but still nothing. I attempt to open the door, but it’s locked. Either he’s in there and doesn’t want to see me or he’s already gone for the day. It doesn’t matter either way, I’ll see him again in the morning.

  Taylor

  I almost told her how I felt about her at lunch, but I knew the timing wasn’t right. I also knew that when I got back to the office, I would know for sure whose side she’s on. I keep hoping Scott and Branch are wrong, that they are looking at all the wrong things and misinterpreting her every move. The problem with my logic is that I pay them to do exactly that. I pay them to be my eyes and ears and to be unbiased opinions. They are the ones who look for the moles and they are damn good at what they do. I need to trust their assessment, even if I want to disagree with it.

  I lock myself in my office and dive into the folder which is waiting for me on my desk. They’re correct about Maggie. She’s working for the FBI. There are pictures of her boarding a private jet and a flight itinerary which takes her straight to where Montgomery is. There are more pictures of her from her trip to Europe, and in most of them she’s wearing the same outfit and her hair is the same, as if they were all taken the same day.

  I set the folder aside and figure out what I need to do next. My mind drifts from one idea to another and then to Maggie, who’s sitting in the room next door. I turn on the surveillance camera in her office and watch her for a while as she works away. I watch as she goes through binder after binder, completing the tasks I’ve asked her to do. If she’s working for them, looking for anything which might bring me down, I can’t tell. Nothing she’s doing raises a red flag with me. Then again, I’m staring at her body more than I’m watching her work.

  I call Scott and Branch into my office and we map out our plan to shut things down. It’s not what I want to do, but I know that it’s time. Shutting down means leaving Maggie, but it also means moving on before they get what they need. After Scott and Branch leave my office, I turn the monitor back on and watch Maggie for a while longer. She’s so beautiful that I could watch her for hours and never become bored.

  As she starts to pack up for the day, I decide my next move. She knocks on my door twice before giving up and leaving the office for the night. As soon as I see she’s safely left the parking garage, I make the final arrangements, knowing I won’t be coming in to the office tomorrow.

  I start by sending Jessica an email with a flight itinerary which has me leaving the country on personal business the next morning. I need for her to think I’m off vacationing too. I don’t feel like I can trust her completely. Next, I send Maggie an email telling her I won’t be in the office and give her a list of things to do the next day. I need to keep her busy and keep her at the office later than usual, if possible.

  Last, I make the final wire transfer which centralizes all of my money in one location, under my new name. I’m going to start fresh; that’s my plan. A new name, a new place, a new person. I’m tired of running from everyone. I’m tired of being the bad guy. I’m tired of hiding. I’m ready to live and I hope when this is all over, Maggie will want to be with me and start fresh, too.

  I pull out a piece of paper and poise my pen, but I have no idea what I want to say. I know a personal note will mean more to her, but my words will matter most. Do I tell her how I feel? Do I tell her what I want? Do I tell her I know who she really is?

  No. I tell her how to find me to enable her to make the decision for herself. If she wants to find me and bring me in, so be it. If she wants to find me and be with me, that would be ideal. I have a feeling it’s going to be somewhere in-between the two. I’m going to have to live with that. More than anything, I want it to be her decision.

  I finally find the words and put pen to paper, telling her how to find me. I don’t stop there, however. I can’t. I need her to know how I feel about her. I have to tell her. Maybe I was trying to stack the deck, to sway her, but I don’t care. I fold the note, my heart laid out in the only words I could find to describe my feelings for her which are written neatly across the page, and slide it into my jacket pocket. I would give it to her myself, tonight.

  9.

  Maggie

  I turn off all the lights and wait for my roommates to go to bed before I start pulling documents out. I know Montgomery told me to keep them hidden until we knew for sure there weren’t cameras in the house, but I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I start skimming through pages, searching for the answers I desperately need. I find the file I’m looking for and take a deep breath before I open it. I take my time, reading it from beginning to end, the whole time reminding myself that Taylor is the bad guy. I need to get my head on straight because this is moving along faster than I thought it would and I have a feeling something bad is about to happen.

  I hear my phone vibrating on my nightstand and reach for it just as it stops. I unlock the screen and carefully read, then reread, the text I’ve received from Montgomery before texting him back.

  Montgomery: It’s finished tomorrow.

  Me: Where are we meeting?

  Montgomery: Take a left out of the parking garage and I will follow you. Pick a small café or something but drive for a while.

  Me: Time?

  Montgomery: When you normally leave for work. I don’t want anyone to suspect anything.

  Me: What’s the plan?

  Montgomery: You will be briefed tomorrow.

  Me: Why now? I haven’t even been able to collect any information. It’s too soon.

  Montgomery: Tomorrow, Becker.

  I want answers. I don’t understand what the rush is. I haven’t had the chance to look over all the files. I haven’t had the chance to familiarize myself with all the players in the operation. I would have had some time if I hadn’t been flirting with Taylor for the last few days. Why did I let myself fall for him? Oh yeah, he’s charming and good looking. The list could go on and on. It doesn’t matter. It all ends tomorrow. I won’t have to pretend anymore. After tomorrow, I can go back to being boring me, with no life and no one to spend time with.

  I want to push Montgomery to tell me what’s happened and why now, but I know I won’t win that battle. He would have told me if he thought I needed to know.

  Me: Service weapon?

  Montgomery: Yes. Tomorrow you are an agent.

  Me: I leave at 0730 normally. Be ready.

  Montgomery: I already am.

  I organize all my documents and carefully place them back into the safe. I pull out my service weapon and badge, sliding them under the corner of my mattress, before closing and locking the door. I crawl in bed but know there is no way I’ll be able to sleep. My mind is racing and I’m trying to remember what information I’ve fed Montgomery which could have possibly led to a break. Nothing I’ve seen or heard has struck me as important yet.

  Maybe I’m overthinking it. Every detail is important. No clue is too small. What has Taylor said that may have given him up?

  Something doesn’t add up. This doesn’t feel right. It’s too soon. It’s only been a week. A week is not long enough to take this man down. He’s too powerful. There’s still too much to learn. This has to be about Montgomery’s wife. He said from th
e beginning this case was personal. Maybe I need to go above his head and get my information. Someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on and why before I blow my cover and the entire assignment goes down in flames. If this isn’t executed perfectly Taylor will run and there will be no telling when we’ll be able to find him again or if he’ll find one of us first.

  I take a chance and send a text to Agent Davis. I know it’s late, but I’m hoping he will have the answers I need. As I wait for him to reply, I can’t help but think about how much my life has changed over the last year. Even the last week has changed me in a way which I can’t even begin to describe.

  No matter how many files I look at, no matter how many pictures of dead people or devastation, I can’t shake the feelings I have for Taylor. It’s frustrating to no end. I can’t even stop thinking about him long enough to figure out how I’m going to be the one to take him down without giving him the chance to get away.

  I play the scene over and over again in my mind. The look of shock on his face is overwhelming. My heart breaks a little just thinking about it. Then, I play it out as if he gets away and my heart sings a little. I don’t want him to get caught, but at the same time I know deep down it’s the right thing to do and it has to be done. He’s done so many horrible things and he has to pay for his actions.

  I drift off to sleep only to be woken up what feels like moments later to the sound of my front door closing at the same moment my phone vibrates.

  I reach below my mattress and pull out my gun, releasing the safety. I lay back down and pretend to be sleeping. I never heard either of my roommates leave, but there is a chance it could be one of them and the last thing I want is to freak them out.

  My heart pounds in my chest and the pounding gets louder when I hear my bedroom door handle being turned. The door creaks softly as it’s opened and then closed. The lock turning echoes through the room and I focus on keeping my breathing steady.