by C. De Melo
“I’m okay.”
Lance leaned closer in order for Michael to see him. “I got her out of there immediately. We’re on our way to the airport now.”
“Good job, Lance. And don’t worry, princess, I’ll have my people find out who those jerks are and they’ll pay dearly for what they did to you.” He looked off screen and nodded at someone who was speaking to him. Looking back at me he said, “I have to go now. I should be home tomorrow. I’ll see you then, okay?”
“Okay.”
Michael looked to Lance and added, “Keep an eye on her for me, will you?”
“I will,” Lance said with a glance in my direction.
Michael ended the call.
“I just want to go home,” I said, leaning against him.
“Okay,” he replied before kissing the top of my head.
I was amazed at how being physically close to Lance made me feel calm and safe (it also made me feel other things that I was trying to ignore). Our wait at the airport was relatively short. We boarded the plane and I was relieved when it took off into the clouds.
Good riddance, Susan Grout.
By the time we arrived in Washington D. C. I felt much better. We deplaned and quickly exited the arrival gate only to come to a complete stop. A group of reporters had gathered outside the airport along with more anti-cryo protesters. Across from the group of picketers was another group comprised of people that sanctioned cryogenic technology and fought for its advancement. Police officers were patrolling the area. The public already knew I was here.
“Damn it,” Lance hissed as he pulled me back inside the gate.
“Sir, you can’t go in there,” said a member of airport security. When I turned my head to face him, he paused and frowned at me. Cocking his head in the direction of the crowd beyond the glass windows, he said, “You’re the cause of all this commotion.”
“I am,” I confessed. “Believe me, I don’t want to be.”
“We can’t go through here for obvious reasons,” Lance pointed out. “Is there a way we can exit the airport without being seen?”
The security guard spoke into his earpiece and nodded. “There is. Follow me.”
He led us towards a departure gate and summoned one of the ground personnel. A stocky middle aged Asian woman sauntered towards us. “Mindy, would you mind escorting these two passengers to the back lot? I’m arranging for a security vehicle to drive them to their car.” The man looked to Lance. “Where’s your car?”
“We have a driver,” I said.
“That’s even better. Call him and tell him to meet you in the long-term parking lot. Should be nice and quiet there.”
While Lance called the driver, Mindy looked me up and down. “You’re Zoë Adams,” she said, star-struck. “I saw you on the HV this morning. Good Morning USA.”
I grimaced. “Great.”
“All set,” Lance said, shaking the security guard’s hand. “Thanks for helping us out.”
“Yes, thank you,” I said.
Mindy shook her head in disapproval. “No need to be throwing eggs and tomatoes at you. Don’t you worry; we’ll get you out of here fast.”
We followed Mindy to the back lot where a security car was waiting for us. We met with our driver in the long-term lot without any complication and were soon on our way home. I sat back against the cushion and blew out a breath.
Lance squeezed my hand. “What a day, huh?”
“I just want to take a long, hot bath.”
He looked down at our hands. “I was going to ask you out to dinner but I totally understand if you want to be alone.”
“No! I mean, I don’t want to be alone right now.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Are you inviting me to take a bath with you?” My face burned and I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s better,” he said.
I smiled. “How about if you just come over and stay with me for a while? I don’t want to go out in public, not after what happened today.”
“No bath?”
“I’ll settle for a hot shower if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”
“Deal.”
Juana, Maria and Carlos were there to greet us when we arrived at the house. They expressed outrage for the way I was treated on the show, and went out of their way to make me feel better. I appreciated their efforts and kind words.
“Will Mr. Adams be staying for dinner?” Juana asked.
“Yes,” I replied, pleasantly surprised that she didn’t seem the least bit upset this time.
“I am in the middle of making a nice chicken pot pie and there’s chocolate mousse for dessert. Is there anything else I should add to the menu?”
Lance smiled. “That sounds amazing.”
“It does,” I agreed. “We haven’t had anything to eat since early this morning.”
Juana looked concerned. “Oh, dear, you two must be hungry. I can serve dinner earlier than usual if you’d like.”
“Perfect,” I said, impressed with the improvement in Juana’s comportment towards Lance.
“In the meantime I can put together a fruit and cheese plate.”
“You’re a doll, Juana,” Lance said.
She smiled at him and went into the kitchen.
“Why don’t you go take that long hot shower and put on something comfortable?” Lance suggested.
“You can use the guest bathroom to take a shower, too. It’s fully stocked. You can borrow one of Michael’s athletic suits. He keeps extra changes of clothing in the linen closet. Help yourself to whatever you need.”
“Thanks, I think I’ll do that.”
I headed towards the stairs. “Meet you back downstairs for cocktails and snacks.”
I watched as Lance walked towards the guest bathroom before making my way to my bedroom. Once inside, I stripped and stepped into the shower stall. The hot water felt delicious on my skin. I allowed the shower stream to massage the knots out of my neck and shoulders. Gradually, the tension melted away. When I was done, I applied body cream and changed into loose leg yoga pants and a fitted tee shirt. I swept my damp hair into a ponytail and went downstairs.
Lance was behind the bar making cocktails in a black athletic suit. A large plate containing grapes, apple slices and cheese was waiting for us on the coffee table. Thank you, Juana.
Lance came towards me with two drinks in his hands. “Vodka and cranberry okay?”
I accepted the glass. “Perfect.”
We brought our glasses together before bringing them to our lips. We sat side by side on the sofa and practically devoured the plate of food. The chicken pot pie was in the oven and the aroma in the house was literally mouth-watering. As I munched on grapes I became aware that I was truly at ease in Lance’s presence- even when we were both silent. I stole a sidelong glance at him and wondered if I could trust him; really trust him. I wanted to tell him about the mysterious trunk, but decided to hold off. Perhaps tonight was not the night. Too much had already happened today and my concerned domestic staff was buzzing around me. Better to wait for the right time.
He caught me staring at him and leaned closer to me. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
“How comfortable I feel around you,” I confessed.
My words had a great effect on him because his eyes softened. “I feel comfortable around you, too.”
“I’m so glad you were there today...thank you for sticking up for me.”
“I’ll always stick up for you,” he said.
My eyes inadvertently dropped to his mouth. I quickly caught myself and looked away. He reached for my hand and caressed my knuckles. It was both comforting and…
What are you doing?
At the sound of approaching footsteps, Lance let go of my hand and stood. Maria walked into the room and announced that dinner was served. We enjoyed a wonderful meal and he suggested watching a movie to forget the nastiness of the day. I readily agreed. We chose a newly released comedy and sat close together on the comfo
rtable seating in the HV room. The movie was so funny that I laughed until I cried during some scenes. By the end of the night I felt almost as good as new.
“It’s late and you should get some sleep. It’s been a very long day,” Lance said.
“You’re more than welcome to stay in the guestroom, if you’d like,” I offered.
“Thanks, but no need. I’m okay.”
I walked him to the door. He gathered me into his arms and gave me a big hug.
“Thanks for everything, Lance,” I said.
“No reason to thank me. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
I smiled up at him. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams. Call me if you need anything.”
I locked the door behind him and went upstairs to bed. I was almost asleep by the time my head hit the pillow and (thankfully) I didn’t have any strange dreams.
Chapter Ten
After the Good Morning USA incident, Michael and Lance spent more time together. Apparently, Lance had proved himself capable and trustworthy in the eyes of his older brother. Before long, they rekindled their old habit of playing golf every Saturday morning. Lance didn’t enjoy golf, but he accepted the weekly invitations in the hope of discovering substantially incriminating evidence for the CIA.
The sun was shining brightly and it was a perfect spring day in mid May. Lance steered his car down the drive and parked behind Zoë’s Mercedes. He usually met his brother at the house so they could ride to the country club together, but he was earlier than usual today in order to speak with Zoë. One of his colleagues was interested in purchasing a piece from the Ashford Gallery and had asked Lance to speak with her on his behalf.
As Lance got out of his car, the front door opened and Juana’s face appeared. A man dressed in an expensive Italian suit and sporting a trendy haircut walked out. He headed for a new red Porsche parked under the shade of trees.
After accompanying the guest out, Juana saw Lance and smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Adams.”
The man stopped and turned around. “Lance Adams?”
“Yes,” Lance replied.
“I am Joseph Greeling,” the man said, walking forward and extending his hand in the process.
Lance’s heart began to race as realization hit him. Be cool or he’ll suspect that you know the truth. He shook the man’s hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Your brother has mentioned you often. He said you are a challenging opponent when it comes to golf.”
“I’m afraid Michael has a tendency to exaggerate.”
The man looked at Lance steadily. “Perhaps you are too modest.”
Lance swallowed hard. His hands shook and he was forced to shove them in his pockets. “You should join us out on the course sometime,” he said as casually as he could.
The man nodded and bade him goodbye before walking to his car.
Juana waited patiently at the door for Lance to come inside. “Mr. Adams is still in his office. He was not expecting you this early.”
“It’s okay, don’t bother him. I’m early because I need to speak with Zoë about some artwork. Is she around?”
“I will get Mrs. Adams for you.”
“I’ll wait in the living room.”
Lance walked through the main hall and into the living room. He paced back and forth in an attempt to calm himself. His heart was racing and his legs were trembling. He sat down and breathed deeply. He had exchanged words with a criminal, a man who was on the FBI’s top ten most wanted list…a man who was now posing as someone else. Despite the trendy haircut, shaved beard and fancy European clothing, Al Majed was still recognizable after all these years. It was the dark, malevolent eyes that gave him away; eyes that have watched several innocent people die.
Besides, Lance could never forget the man who caused Zoë to disappear for almost twenty years.
“Lance!”
He turned his head towards her voice. “Hey, Zoë.”
***
As I approached my brother-in-law, I couldn’t help noticing his anxious expression. I kissed his cheek in greeting. “All set to play golf? It’s a gorgeous day.”
He smiled. “You should come along sometime.”
I shook my head. “You know golf is not my thing. How about a nice cocktail?”
“At this hour? It’s not even eleven yet.”
“Ten forty-eight. That’s close enough to noon for me. Besides, I’m sure it’s happy hour somewhere in the world.”
He shook his head. “You’re too much.”
I walked to the bar and stood in the stream of direct light pouring from the large windows. Lance was looking at me strangely.
I caught his eye. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry…I was just...”
“What’s on your mind?”
“The sunlight behind you is intense,” he said, pointing to the window. “It makes you look angelic.”
I smiled. “Vodka tonic with lime?”
“Sure.”
I felt the weight of his stare as I picked up a knife and sliced into a bright green lime. I glanced up again and put down the knife. He was still looking at me with a strange expression on his face.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
Lance ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, which he wore loose today. I could see the light tan of his chest peeking through the V-neck of his white polo shirt.
“Sorry, Zoë, I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
He said nothing.
“Lance?” I prompted.
“I couldn’t sleep last night for some reason. Maybe I’m just a little out of it today,” he offered lamely.
I searched his face, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. When he merely grinned at me, I let the matter drop.
“I ran into Joseph Greeling as I was coming in,” he said.
I squeezed the lime into two rock glasses. “Oh, Mr. Greeling. He’s one of Michael’s business associates.” I selected a bottle of Michael’s best vodka. “He’s from London.”
“Really? He doesn’t seem very English,” he said as I approached him with a glass in each hand. “How long have Michael and Mr. Greeling been working together?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I see.”
After handing Lance his drink, I took a sip from my own glass. I normally didn’t drink so early in the day, but after finally finding the missing trunk I needed one. What disturbed me the most was where I found it- inside the gardening shed! After my morning run I decided to re-pot some of the orchids in the Tudor garden. I went into the shed to fetch some potting soil and noticed something sticking out from behind a blue tarp. When I moved the tarp aside, I was shocked to see the trunk that had mysteriously disappeared from the attic. I crept upstairs to retrieve the skeleton keys I had obtained from the locksmith. Unfortunately, none of them worked.
“Thirsty?” Lance asked.
I was surprised to see that during my brief reverie I’d consumed half of my drink without realizing it. I was a little embarrassed. “Oh.”
“Why don’t we sit down?” Lance suggested. He sat on the sofa and I sat beside him. He turned his body so that he could face me. “Zoë, is everything okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I have never seen you down vodka like that- and before noon! Something is up. I want you to know you can talk to me,” he said sincerely.
“And I can trust you?”
“Yes, of course you can trust me,” he said, eyes narrowing.
“There is something I want to tell you, but not here. Not now.”
Lance’s face grew serious with concern. He leaned in close and asked softly, “Are you in any kind of danger?”
I shook my head. Why would he ask me that question? “No, it’s nothing like that. Just some weird stuff going on and I don’t know what to make of it. Can we go out for lunch?”
He gave a curt nod. “Absolutely. When?”
; “How about this Monday?”
He nodded. “Fine.”
“Where do you want to meet?” I asked.
We heard approaching footsteps.
“I’ll call you later,” he whispered.
I felt relieved; as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
“Lance, you’re early,” said Michael as he entered the room.
“I had to speak with Zoë about some artwork,” Lance said quickly. I hid my surprise and nodded in agreement. “Anyway, my colleague, Sid Walker, is interested in purchasing a new piece.”
“Tell him to come see me and I’ll give him a good deal,” I said.
“He mentioned something about the Valencia sculpture,” Lance said.
“Oh, right. The Reclining Nude,” I said. “That’s a popular piece.”
“Actually, not that one. He likes that piece, but his wife has her heart set on The Maiden. Since it’s their anniversary, he wants to get the one she likes.”
“His wife has good taste. That happens to be my favorite piece as well. It reminds me of Zoë,” Michael said as he walked to the bar. “Since you two have drinks, I think I’ll join you.”
I stole a quick glance at Lance. “Tell Mr. Walker I can have the piece delivered to their door with complimentary flowers.”
“Great. I’ll let him know,” Lance said.
Michael approached us with drink in hand and sat in one of the armchairs across from the sofa. “I am so proud of our little Zoë,” he announced. “Are you blushing, princess? I’m only telling the truth. I ran into Nancy Ashford the other day and she did nothing but praise you up and down. She also mentioned something about making you assistant director. She’s as impressed with you as her mother was when she was alive.”
“Nancy has already asked me,” I confessed.
Michael looked surprised. “When? And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Yesterday afternoon and I didn’t tell you because you were busy, remember? I was going to tell you tonight at dinner, but I guess now is as good a time as any.”
“Congratulations, princess,” he said heartily. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Yes, congratulations, Zoë,” Lance said.
“Thank you,” I said. “Nancy has asked me to go to Italy next weekend. I’m to leave on Friday.”
