Spies, Lies, and Allies

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  I blink up at him. “Okay, but I need to talk to my dad first.” I stand up, and my dad and I both watch him leave, though I doubt my dad is scoping out his backside like I am.

  My dad coughs and I turn to face him. “What was that about?”

  Dad scratches his head, looking puzzled. “I think I just gave him permission to date you.”

  “What?! What do you mean permission? Like it’s the 1800s or something?” I can’t believe this. Did my dad figure out our feelings and call Carlos into his office? I’m going to—

  “It was his idea,” Dad says, and now his confused look is replaced by something closer to amusement. “He asked for permission to break rule number eight, even though the internship is over.” Dad grins. “He’s something else, that guy. Smart, charming.” His eyes narrow. “Good at winning over bosses and dads. I hope he’s not all talk.”

  A blush heats my face as I think about the secret kissing sessions we’ve engaged in on the rooftop when we could escape for a few minutes to ourselves.

  “Definitely not all talk,” I say, and Dad’s eyes narrow even more. “And by that I mean he’s the real deal. Not fake, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Dad sighs and shakes his head. “It was bound to happen sometime. You and some…some…guy.”

  I laugh at his morose expression. “Don’t act like he just blew up your Death Star, Vader. He’s on your side. And so am I.”

  Dad grins. “You’re not part of the Rebellion anymore?”

  “Something like that. I think this summer taught me a lot about enemies turning into allies.” I keep my voice strong even though there’s a lump in my throat. “I love you, Dad. And I love your weird company, too. I can’t believe what you and Cal did.” My eyes blur with tears. “You changed four lives, Dad. Four. They can all get degrees now. They might need small loans but—”

  Dad puts a finger to my lips. “You’re the one they should thank, not me. You and Trish.” He shakes his head and blows out a breath. “Sometimes I get so stuck on doing things my way I don’t see other options. You made me see there was another way, Laurel. A better way.”

  He wraps me in a hug and I squeeze him tight. “However,” he says into my hair, “next time you have a ‘conflict of interest’ you’d better let your boss know what it is.” He releases me from the hug and ruffles my hair. “You know I want to meet anyone you date, Laurel.”

  “I know. But I was afraid you’d disqualify him if you knew he had, um, feelings for me. And we haven’t even had a real date yet.”

  Dad cocks an eyebrow. “He showed me the website you designed. Great work, kiddo. But you were obviously seeing each other then.”

  “We weren’t.” I shake my head, embarrassed. “I was just stalking him.”

  Both of Dad’s eyebrows shoot up.

  “Don’t freak out, Vader. He was a gentleman, I promise. We hung out at Comic Con, but that wasn’t a date, either, because he had his little brother with him, and Elijah was there and—”

  Dad puts up a hand. “I’m getting the picture. You’ve been pining for each other all summer.” He grumbles under his breath, but I can hear what he says, and I laugh.

  “You’re right—Jason was never the one to worry about.”

  Dad crosses his arms over his chest. “So how’s the food at his restaurant?”

  “Fantastic! You’d love it.”

  “Excellent. We’ll go there soon. You can introduce me to his family. Since you already know them.”

  I blush under his scrutiny, but his eyes are twinkling with mischief.

  “Don’t you have your own date night?” I ask Dad.

  “Indeed I do.” He grabs his briefcase from a chair and flicks off the overhead lights.

  “Good, because I have to go. My suitor awaits, and since you’ve given him permission…”

  “Home by midnight.” Dad points a warning finger.

  I snap a crisp salute. “Whatever you say, Vader.”

  Dad and Mom wave goodbye to me as I cross the lobby to the elevator. Carlos waits, leaning against the wall.

  “I can’t believe you asked permission,” I whisper as he presses the elevator button.

  He shrugs and wraps his arm around me, pulling me in close. “I figured it was a good strategy.” He slants me a sly grin. “I cleaned out my desk and found this.”

  He hands me a crumpled napkin. I open it to discover he completed the list we started at lunch weeks ago, filling in numbers six through ten.

  Degrees of Fraternization

  1. Introductions

  2. Shared Interests

  3. Joint Projects. Teamwork.

  4. Friendly banter.

  5. Nicknames

  6. Joke book present

  7. Creating a website without being asked

  8. Kissing at a park

  9. Kissing in a hot sci-fi costume

  10. :-)

  My cheeks grow hotter as I read each item, but when I get to number ten, I glance up. “What’s number ten?”

  He grins down at me. “What it always was—being able to date you for real.”

  “Oh.” I hope he can tell how much his answer means to me.

  We step into the elevator.

  The doors are sliding shut when a wobbly voice calls out to hold the elevator. Carlos shoots his arm into the gap, forcing the doors to bounce open. Miss Emmaline totters into the elevator, narrowing her eyes at me, then beaming at Carlos.

  “Thank you, Carlos,” she says, like I wanted to slam the door in her face but he saved the day. I shoot him an exasperated look and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

  “Hey, Miss Emmaline,” Carlos says as the elevator lurches downward. “What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?” He winks at me, and I vow to make him pay later. Probably with more kissing.

  Miss Emmaline looks from Carlos to me, then back to Carlos. “Frostbite.”

  My mouth drops open and Carlos blinks in surprise. The elevator jerks to a stop and the doors slide open. Miss Emmaline steps out, then turns to face us, or, more specifically, me.

  “I always liked the jokes, Laurel, but you need to work on your delivery.” She glances at Carlos, and her eyes sparkle with humor behind her glasses. “I’m sure Carlos can help you, in between kissing sessions.” She winks at us. “I’m glad you two don’t have to sneak up to the roof anymore.”

  As Carlos and I gape at her, she lifts her hand in a wave and walks to her car.

  “How did she—”

  “She never goes up to the roof—”

  We look into each other’s eyes and realization hits us at the same time.

  “She’s a super spy,” I whisper. I can’t believe it.

  We both come to a halt when we round the corner. The whole gang is waiting. Trish sits on the hood of Carlos’s car, twisting Ashley’s hair into something complicated and pretty. Elijah and Jason are playing hacky sack, laughing and smack-talking. Trish glances up, smirking when she sees us.

  “Hit it, maestro,” she calls over her shoulder. Elijah startles, fumbling the hacky sack as he lunges for his phone…which is apparently Bluetooth-connected to the Death Star speaker perched on the roof of Carlos’s car.

  “What the—” I begin, but the music blasting from the speaker drowns me out. As the lyrics wash over us, Carlos and I stare at each other, laughing when we recognize the song.

  Trish slides off the hood of the car, twirling Ashley around. They dance horribly, awkwardly, like every bad 80s movie I’ve seen. Jason and Elijah join in, laughing.

  “Don’t you forget about me!” We all sing at the top of our lungs in synch with the iconic song, ignoring the weird looks from other people headed for their cars.

  Jason dance-bounces over to me. “I don’t know how to thank you, Laurel.” His eyes are misty, which makes my throat swell. He side-eyes the anarchist doing the lawn mower dance with Barbie. “And Trish, too. You’re both amazing.”

  I look around at my friends. We’
re all amazing.

  Carlos pulls me into his arms, grinning down at me as the throbbing beat of the song echoes off the garage walls. “Bet you didn’t think your summer would end like this.”

  “Never in my wildest—” but I don’t get to finish because Carlos’s lips are devouring mine. Honestly, if a person could earn kissing trophies, he’d have a million. Showoff.

  Behind us, our friends whistle and yell. Somebody cranks up the Death Star volume. And as Carlos ratchets up his kissing game, I smile against his lips.

  This wacky summer has been best summer of my life.

  And it’s not over yet.

  Acknowledgments

  I began writing this book shortly after my father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Writing a romantic comedy during this time wasn’t a smooth process, as my editor and agent will attest, and I want to thank Liz Pelletier (and everyone at Entangled) and Nicole Resciniti for their patience, encouragement, and compassion, especially as my father’s condition worsened, leading to his passing.

  As I read this book one last time before it went to print, I realized that as I was losing my own father, I channeled my love and memories to the creation of a father on the page. And not just a father, but a father-daughter relationship that I hope brings joy to readers.

  Thank you to my critique partners Laura Anderson, Laura Deal, Pamela Mingle, and Lynn Rush. You read this when it wasn’t ready for prime time, for which I’ll always be grateful.

  Thank you to Liz Pelletier for, as always, finding what was missing.

  Thank you to Candace Havens for a fresh editorial perspective, and gently pointing out my obsession with Carlos’s dimples.

  Thank you to Nicole Resciniti for cheering me on and lifting me up when I wasn’t sure I could keep going.

  Thank you to my family and friends, who provided extraordinary love and support during an overwhelming time. My husband and son never cease to amaze me, rising to every occasion and doing what needs to be done. I couldn’t do this without my guys.

  Finally…in loving gratitude to my father. Unlike the father in this book, he didn’t run an empire. He lived a simple life, but one of such profound 12-step service to others, I’ve no doubt his gentle guidance will echo through generations.

  My dad always believed I’d be a writer someday. I’m so proud to have proved him right.

  About the Author

  Lisa Brown Roberts still hasn’t recovered from the teenage trauma of nearly tweezing off both eye brows and having to pencil them in for an entire school year. This and other angst-filled memories inspire her to write YA books about navigating life’s painful and funny dramas, and falling in love along the way. She lives in Colorado in a house full of books, boys, four-legged primadonnas, and lots of laughter.

  You can find Lisa on Twitter @LBrownRoberts or visit her at her website:

  www.lisabrownroberts.com

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