Red Shoes & A Diary

by Mia Zachary

  Alex scratched his bare chest with one hand and grabbed a cold beer out of the refrigerator with the other. He twisted off the cap and drank a third of the bottle down. The taste of bitterness remained. So did his restlessness.

  He missed her desperately. Meghan had unwittingly shared the most intimate parts of herself with him, while he remained secretive and distant. No one had ever touched his heart like she did; he’d never allowed anyone close enough to try.

  She was everything he never knew he needed.

  He’d give anything to make amends, to have her trust again. Meghan’s love was a precious gift and he wanted to be worthy of it. He wanted to see himself as the man reflected in her eyes.

  Alex longed for a cigarette, but he’d finally given them up when she walked out on him. The smokes were part of his past; they had no place in his future—a future he hoped to share with the woman he loved. Leaving the unfinished beer on the counter, he went into the bedroom to put on a shirt. Then he scooped up his keys and headed for the DEA’s Miami Field Office.

  ALEX’S EARS WERE RINGING, his head ached, and he was going to need a new ass when his boss finished chewing on it.

  “You screwed up royally by letting a civilian in on the investigation, Alex.”

  He slumped deeper into his chair while Brent Easton and the Internal Affairs investigator took turns beating up on him.

  “And then, knowing you were wrong, you still stupidly and unnecessarily endangered the life of that civilian….”

  When the Division Chief walked into Brent’s office to add his two cents, Alex’s day went from bad to worse. “As an eight-year veteran, you should have…”

  He tuned out the ongoing reprimand. Looking back on those eight years, he didn’t like what he saw. Subterfuge was a justifiable necessity of his profession. He never hesitated to do whatever it took to get a case off his desk and into court. He changed his personality along with his underwear if that’s what got results.

  For once, the success of an investigation wasn’t worth the damaging effect on his personal life. Having to fight his fear and anxiety had distracted him from what should have been top priority.

  Meghan could have died.

  Envisioning the rest of his days without her, the thought spun around and around his mind. She’d risked everything for him and she could have died. Not only had the job cost him the woman he loved, it cost him his identity. There was no way he could do his job effectively anymore. At the end of the hour, after the IAD guy and the Chief had left, his decision was made.

  “I quit, Brent.”

  “You can’t quit—”

  “I just did.” Alex leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ll stay for a couple of weeks, long enough to finish my outstanding paperwork, wrap up the Ramos case and transfer my other ones. Then I’m gone.”

  From behind the desk, Brent gave him a calculating look. “You’ll be back here in three months, tops, begging me for a new assignment.”

  Alex shook his head. “Not this time. I’ve had it.”

  “I can’t believe you’re quitting.” Brent’s expression was incredulous. “You’re going to miss it, I’m telling you. How can you live without the rush of undercover work?”

  He crossed his arms, his voice hard and determined. “That’s not living, not anymore. I’ve been at this for so long, I wake up in the morning not knowing if I’m Alex Worth or Andy Ruiz or Nicholas Alexander—”

  “You’re a good agent. You’ve taken some foolish chances but I’d even go so far as to say you’re a great one. Are you sure you want to give it all up?”

  His mouth flattened in a thin-lipped smile. “Oh, yeah. I’m going to miss lying, cheating, stealing, sleeping around and all of the other things I did for the Special Operations Division.”

  Brent cocked one eyebrow and spread his hands, both palms upturned. “It’s a glamorous job, what can I say?”

  “I could easily do without getting ‘arrested’ again. Dave Sandalis should have been written up for claiming I resisted.”

  “He’s got plenty of bruises to prove you resisted.”

  Alex scowled. “Only after he slammed me into the wall—”

  Brent shrugged. “Hey, you know the drill. It had to look good in front of the other criminals.”

  “I don’t know how well it worked. Ramos knows that his organization was infiltrated. Since he agreed to a plea bargain in exchange for testimony, it won’t take long to finger me for the breach.” He sighed and turned his head to stare out the window. “I’m burned out, Brent. That makes a man lose his edge. One more reason for me to get the hell out. From now on, I do what I want, answer only to myself.”

  “I’m telling you. You’re going to miss being an agent. A desk job isn’t for you. You just won’t be happy without the excitement and the challenge—”

  “The only thing I’ll miss is our golf games.” He stood up and reached across the desk to offer his hand. “And who says those have to stop just because we’re not working together?”

  Brent stood as well and returned the handshake heartily. “I wish you luck, my friend. You know there’s always a place for you here if things don’t work out.”

  He didn’t say anything, but Alex knew in his heart he wouldn’t return to the Justice Department. He hadn’t realized how empty his life was until Meghan came into it, hadn’t known how much he needed her until she walked out of it. There was one more role for him to take on—the man worthy of her love.

  17

  Alex is everything I ever wanted in a man, all that I’ve dreamed of and more. He touched me in ways that changed me forever. He was right about the magic.

  MEGHAN INITIALED the last entry with a heavy heart. The stiff pages rustled as she closed the lavender paisley book. Her fingers trailed slowly across the rough textured cover. It was like saying goodbye to an old friend. Her diaries had given her a way to act out her dreams without getting hurt, an outlet for the sensuality she repressed.

  But she couldn’t escape into fantasy anymore. Not when she’d found the real thing…and let him go.

  She set the diary beside her on the turquoise love seat and glanced around the lemon-colored living room of Julie’s Miami condominium with a wry smile. It was typical South Beach style—all glass block and pastel paint. It was also typical of her sister’s bright, sunny personality.

  Meghan stared longingly out the large bay windows to her left. Julie’s condo offered a great view of the Atlantic Ocean, just blocks away, and she wished she’d had more time to enjoy it over the past month. However, she’d already gotten her law school reading list and assignments. For first-year students, Criminal Law and Civil Procedure, as well as Property, Torts, and Legal Research were mandatory classes. And she still had to find a job. She leaned over to push the play button on the answering machine.

  “Hi, Meghan. This is Lisa at Permanent Employment. I’m trying to set up an interview for you. A company called January Investigations, Inc. is looking to hire someone with a paralegal background. Give me a call.”

  She jotted down the time and telephone number. She’d get in touch with Julie’s friend at the agency first thing in the morning. Please let something come of this. It was hard to find a job that would accommodate her school schedule, yet pay more than minimum wage.

  The next message began to play. “Megs! It’s Jules. Go get a copy of today’s paper! You have to read this article. Talk to you later. ’Bye.”

  A telemarketing call followed, then some salesman offered her an unbeatable rate on a second mortgage. The last call was a wrong number. None of the messages were from Alex.

  When she’d first returned to Miami, he had called her to say how much he loved and missed her. He explained that he’d be unavailable until after he testified before a grand jury. She hadn’t heard from him since. Too often she found herself wondering where he was, worrying about what he might be doing.

  As busy as her new life kept her, she still had too m
uch time to think about Alex. Each thought brought a sharp, stabbing pain through her chest, leaving her on the verge of tears. The nights were long and lonely without him. The days weren’t much better.

  Enough. Meghan pushed herself off the love seat. She needed to get out, get some fresh air. Besides, the urgency in Julie’s voice aroused her curiosity. She grabbed her purse and door keys and headed for 13th Street. She turned onto Ocean Drive, the heart of the Art Deco district in “SoBe,” as Julie referred to the area. She found a newsstand and bought a copy of the Miami Herald.

  Meghan gasped. Her hands trembled as she read every detail of the front-page article.

  DEA Administrator D.R. Marshall announced today the successful conclusion of a two-year investigation, “Operation Dinero.” Indictments against seventeen defendants were returned by a federal grand jury for a multimillion-dollar drug profit money-laundering scheme.

  Her eyes skimmed down the page, then widened in recognition when she reached the last paragraph.

  Most notable was the capture of Francisco Guillermo Ramos by unnamed DEA agents at the exclusive Florida Keys Cayo Sueño resort. Additionally, over 100 million dollars’ worth of laundered drug proceeds was seized from Miami-based businesses and financial institutions held by the defendants.

  Marshall is quoted as saying, “It is the enormous profits gained from trafficking that fuels the drug trade. We were able to hit the cartel where it hurts, in their pockets. The war on drugs continues, but maybe the work of these brave agents will help to stem the tide.”

  Meghan finished reading the article, surprised by the surge of pride she felt. She hated Alex’s job and the jeopardy it placed him in, but he was doing what he believed was right.

  She’d thought she didn’t need any more heroes in her life, but she was wrong. Maybe that’s exactly what she needed.

  TWO DAYS LATER, she stepped out of the cab and glanced at her watch. She’d been so worried about being late for her interview that she was actually twenty minutes early. Not that she was desperate or anything. Eager, that was it. Eager. This job had everything she needed—flexible hours, benefits and good pay. The way Lisa described the position, it was almost too good to be true.

  What would she have to do to get such a perfect job, anyway? Sleep with the boss? Her mind raced from desperate to eager to worried and back. Her stomach went along for the ride. Checking her reflection in the glass door, she wondered if the cherry-red silk camisole and matching heels had been the right choice. Maybe she should have worn something more reserved….

  She shrugged. She wasn’t the same woman she once was, so why wear the same old clothes? She smoothed one palm over her cream-colored linen suit, ironing out invisible wrinkles. Slipping her hand into the pocket, she closed her fingers around the silver coin Alex had given her, and rubbed it for luck.

  Alex. She closed her eyes briefly, torturing herself with the image of his face. His easy laugh and tender hugs, his laid-back charm and passionate kisses. Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she went inside and took the elevator to the eleventh floor. A polished brass wall sign pointed the way to January Investigations.

  A perky brunette sat behind the reception desk answering telephone calls. A name plate on the desk read “Tiffnee.” The moniker perfectly suited the girl’s large blue eyes, button nose and rosebud lips. She was really too cute to live.

  “Hi! Can I help you?”

  I seriously doubt it, Tiffnee. She stared at the girl’s mouthful of bubble gum as she introduced herself. “My name is Meghan Foster. I have a ten o’clock appointment with the owner.”

  The girl’s bright expression dimmed by a few degrees. “Aw, man. Like, I’m sorry, but he’s not here.”

  “I’m sure the interview was scheduled for today.” Brows furrowed, Meghan checked the date and time Lisa from Permanent Employment had given her.

  “Oh, yeah, it is. But, like, the boss had a meeting on Fisher Island. Some kinda security deal for one of the resorts. He should be back soon, though.” The girl smiled reassuringly and bobbed her head, causing her dark ringlets to bounce.

  Tiffnee even had perky hair. Meghan agreed to wait, but declined the offer of coffee, tea or “this totally cool seaweed drink.” As she picked up the phone and started giggling about some boy she’d met at a nightclub, Meghan took a seat in one of the comfortable, overstuffed armchairs and glanced around.

  Tiffnee didn’t fit the office image at all. Gray marble floor tiles gleamed under the light of etched-glass halogen lamps. Original oils and watercolors graced the walls, which were papered in shell-pink silk. She’d bet the receptionist had played no part in the decorating.

  Meghan settled in for a long wait. She crossed her legs, uncrossed them, then crossed them the other way and picked up a magazine. When the front door opened, she glanced up from the copy of Architectural Digest she’d been skimming. Tiffnee quickly hung up the phone and sat at attention as a well-dressed man entered the suite.

  She could only see him from behind, but he was a walking billboard for success. His dove-gray suit appeared tailor-made for his broad shoulders and confident stride. He carried an expensive-looking leather attaché case, which he set on the desktop. The receptionist greeted him with a megawatt grin, the huge wad of bright pink bubble gum somehow out of sight.

  “Hey, boss! Your ten o’clock is here.”

  The man turned toward Meghan and the magazine dropped out of her numb fingers, landing on the tile floor with a slap. Omigod! Her heart stuttered, then leapt with joy and pounded in her chest. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t breathe. The world spun faster—or maybe it was her head.

  Alex.

  And yet she hardly recognized him without the unkempt hair, beard stubble and earring. He stepped forward, not at all surprised to see her. He gave her the friendly-sexy grin that always made her pulse race. “Hello, Trouble.”

  Hello, Mr. Fabulous.

  He was clean-shaven, his hair cut conservatively short, and he was dressed like a normal human being. The only wild floral patterns in sight graced his tie. His boots had been replaced with Italian leather loafers. If possible, he looked even more gorgeous than last time she saw him.

  “I can’t believe it’s you. What are you doing here, Alex?”

  Tiffnee chimed in helpfully. “He, like, owns the place.”

  He was the owner? When did that happen? Maybe he was working undercover again. Maybe this was part of another DEA case. Confused and unsure of how to react, she adjusted her glasses and stood up to greet him.

  Should she hug him, kiss him or what? She started to offer her hand, then dropped it to her side. The gesture was ridiculous after the intimacies they’d shared. Alex seemed as uncertain of what to do as she. He reached out to touch her, then hesitated and waved behind him instead.

  “Why don’t you come back to my office?”

  “She’s even prettier than you said, boss.”

  “Excuse me?” Startled, Meghan turned back to look at the receptionist.

  Tiffnee winked broadly. “Should I, like, hold your calls while you ‘interview’ her?”

  “Back to work, brat. At least until I fire you.”

  “Yeah, right. As if.” The girl acted completely indifferent to the threat as she picked up an incoming phone call.

  “Sorry about that. I promised my uncle I’d give her a job.” Alex grinned. “He’s my main investor.”

  He led Meghan along a wide, brightly lit corridor with offices on either side. She followed, still dazed by the extreme difference in his appearance. He showed her into a large corner office with thick gray carpet and large windows overlooking the city. The bold floral pattern of the draperies reminded her of his resort shirts.

  Meghan perched stiffly on the edge of the leather couch, setting her briefcase on the floor. “Where have you been, Alex? Is this company really yours? What—?”

  “One question at a time.” He quirked a brow and smiled when he caught her staring at his leather d
ress shoes. “I’ve made a couple of changes.”

  She sat back against the couch. It took enormous effort to mask her pleasure at seeing him again. All she wanted was to throw herself into his arms and never let go. She wanted to kiss him like crazy and make him promise… Slow down, Megs, she stopped herself. First you need to figure out what’s going on.

  “Let’s start with the most important question, then. What am I doing here?”

  “Julie and Lisa helped me set this up.”

  Well, now she knew why the job seemed too perfect. He removed his suit jacket and sat down beside her, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. “The firm needs an office manager so I can go out and develop new clients.”

  Not exactly the answer she was hoping for. She dropped her gaze to hide the hurt. Disappointment settled painfully into her chest.

  “I thought…” Her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears. She cleared her throat. “I thought maybe you wanted to see me again.”

  “I did. I do! Absolutely. But I know you’ll never commit to being with a cop. So—”

  “Tell me about your company. Why did you name it January Investigations?” If the only way she could see Alex was to take this job, then that would have to be enough. She clamped down on her turbulent emotions. She’d deal with the sense of rejection and loss when she could be alone. It looked like she’d be alone for a long time.

  “In Roman mythology, Janus is the god of beginnings. He’s got a two-headed image, one looking to the past and the other facing the future.” He shrugged matter-of-factly. “I thought it was a good name for a man trying to start his life over.”

  Don’t ask, Megs. You could get seriously hurt. Don’t even think about it. Don’t— “I have to ask. Is there a place for me in your new life?”

  His foot hit the floor with a thump when he surged toward her, an earnest expression on his handsome face. “I thought the biggest obstacle between us was my job. Am I wrong?”