Callie's Christmas Wish

by Merline Lovelace

  “What can you tell me about a Rome-based charity called International Aid to Displaced Women?”

  * * *

  Joe left the Defense Intelligence Agency feeling marginally better about Callie’s decision. Although Frank wasn’t personally familiar with IADW, he had his people run a quick screen.

  He also made a call to a contact at the State Department responsible for overseeing the US Refugee Admissions Program and the 6 billion dollars provided through the combined efforts of the Bureau of Population, Refugees and Migration and the US Agency for International Development. The contact’s people in turn worked closely with a host of other agencies, including the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, the UN World Food Programme, the International Red Cross, the UN Children’s Fund and the International Organization for Migration. Most of these organizations had special programs in place to protect the most vulnerable sectors of the population, including women and girls.

  Harden’s contact had verified that the Rome operation was legit. Equally important, there’d been no documented reports of terrorists or hard-core criminals infiltrating the population the agency cared for. That wasn’t to say they couldn’t. Given the growing number of women being recruited by groups like ISIS, the PLF and Sri Lanka’s Tamil Tigers, programs that helped women enter or resettle in other countries made tempting conduits.

  Joe intended to go over the agency’s refugee screening process with Carlo in some detail before Callie started work there. He made a quick call to his twenty-four-hour operations center and instructed the on-duty controller to check on an evening flight. The controller clicked a few keys and said there was a flight leaving Dulles at 5:40 p.m. Joe would have to hump to get everything done and be at the airport the required three hours early for international flights, but he figured he could make it.

  “Okay, book it.”

  He then contacted the office of the director of the Naples film festival. Marcello Audi was worried that allowing a certain entry to be shown at this year’s festival would put them on radical jihadists’ hit list. He’d requested a thorough security assessment of all venues. Joe had planned to pass on the job, but Callie’s little bombshell last night had triggered a swift reordering of his schedule. The Naples job would only take a few weeks, and it would put him less than an hour south of Rome. After that...

  After that, he promised himself, he and Callie would settle on a permanent arrangement. One that gave them both a safe, comfortable haven. With that goal in mind, he steered his rental to the next stop on his hastily constructed agenda.

  Chapter Four

  Callie sat curled up on the sitting room sofa, wearing loose, comfortable sweats and fuzzy slippers on her feet. She had fresh coffee in a Christmas mug and her iPhone within reach. She’d slept late—hardly a surprise given last night’s strenuous exercise—and woken to find Joe gone. When she’d wandered into the kitchen, she found his note asking her to hold off calling Carlo until he got back.

  She hoped he wasn’t going to try to talk her out of Rome. He’d seemed to accept her decision last night, even admitted that he could see just as much of her in Italy as in Boston. She really wanted to contact Carlo and tell him she was accepting his job offer.

  She itched to tell Kate and Dawn, too. And not just about Rome. There was this whole exciting, surprising, confusing matter of a proposal to share. They’d both already texted asking a) if she was awake b) if Joe was still there and c) whether she’d resolved the Lassie issue. She wanted to go over to the main house, huddle with Dawn so they could FaceTime Kate together. The three of them had shared so many secrets, so many of life’s ups and downs. But Joe’s note had asked her to wait, so she’d held off, prey to a slightly disconcerting tug of divided loyalties.

  She was still feeling the tug when she heard a car pull into the drive. A quick glance through the front windows confirmed Joe’s return. Uncurling, she was halfway down the hall before the bell rang. When she opened the door, he walked in looking every bit as tall and strong as he had when he arrived from Sydney yesterday, but so much sexier. Which, of course, might have something to do with the fact that she’d explored every flat plane and hard ridge of the body that went with his steel-gray eyes and square chin.

  God! Was she totally insane? What woman in her right mind wouldn’t jump at Joe’s offer? Why not settle into a comfortable nest with him? Why not be there, waiting patiently, when he rolled in from one of his unspecified, no-questions-allowed assignments?

  When he greeted her with a quick kiss and one of his rare smiles, her uncharacteristic self-doubt spiked again. But before she could give in to the sudden urge to tell him she was reconsidering her options, he preempted her with a brusque announcement.

  “I talked to a buddy at the Defense Intelligence Agency. The International Aid to Displaced Women operation’s legit.”

  “Good to know. Although...” She lifted a brow. “Did you think Carlo would invite me to work for an organization that wasn’t?”

  “Doesn’t hurt to check.”

  “No, I guess not. Aren’t you staying?” she asked when he made no move to shed his bomber jacket.

  “Can’t. Have some things to get done before I fly out this afternoon.”

  “Fly where?”

  She’d blurted it out without thinking and half expected another rebuff. This time, however, Joe provided details.

  “First to Rome. I told Carlo I want to review IADW’s refugee screening process before you arrive. Then to Naples. I’ll be doing some work—”

  “Wait! Back up.” She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “You told Carlo that I was coming to Rome? To work at IADW?”

  He blinked, as surprised by her sharp tone as she’d been by his abrupt announcement a few moments ago. “You said last night that’s what you wanted. Did you change your mind?”

  “No.” A surge of irritation smothered her earlier doubts. “I would, however, have appreciated the opportunity to tell my prospective employer personally that I’d accepted his generous job offer.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” He scraped a palm across his chin. “It’s just...”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ve seen the news coverage. The attacks in France and Belgium and other parts of the world. Some of those terrorists got into place by posing as refugees and entering through legitimate refugee resettlement conduits. I just want to make sure IADW isn’t one of them.”

  Her irritation melted. A little. Even more when he brushed a knuckle down her cheek. His touch was warm. Soothing. Possessive.

  “Keeping you safe’s becoming my number-one priority, Pansy Eyes.”

  She had to smile at the endearment. And she could hardly argue with his desire to protect her. Not after she’d burrowed in this admittedly luxurious hole while he tracked down the creep who’d sent the emails. Yet the little corner of her mind that rejected the prospect of being wrapped in cotton wool for the rest of her life reared its nasty head again.

  “Thank you, Joe.”

  She meant that. She really did. Still, she took a small, instinctive step back when he extracted a small jeweler’s box out of his coat pocket.

  “I know this is pushing things, Callie, but I saw this before I flew to Australia and asked them to hold it. I wanted you to check it out, see if you liked it. Now, with this Rome deal, I figured I’d take a chance.”

  “Joe...”

  “It’s not as flashy or sparkly as some I looked at,” he said, flipping up the lid, “but it’s almost the same color as your eyes. And the setting is kind of nice.”

  More than nice, Callie saw on a little intake of breath. It was exquisite. White gold, she guessed, spun into a filigree bouquet to showcase a gleaming oval amethyst. The end prongs were long-stemmed roses, the side prongs delicate leaves with a tiny dove nested between them.

&nbs
p; “Joe, I...”

  She floundered, tugged in a dozen different directions by the whirlwind of emotions this man roused in her. He noted her confusion with a small smile and pounced.

  “It doesn’t have to mean anything more than you want it to, Callie. Here, try it on for size.” He slid it over her knuckle. “Good. It fits. I wanted you to have it before you took off for Rome.”

  She glanced up from the glowing amethyst and caught the glint of male satisfaction in his eyes.

  “And,” she guessed drily, “you wanted me to be wearing it when I meet with Carlo.”

  “Yeah, that, too.”

  The admission was totally unapologetic and so...so Joe that she had to smile.

  “I like Carlo as a friend and now a prospective employer,” she said. “That’s all. Surely you know that.”

  “Of course I do. Doesn’t hurt to reinforce the message, though.” His gaze held hers, steady and unflinching. “You change your mind, or want to send a different signal after you get to Rome, just take it off. I’ll understand.”

  * * *

  Callie debated for some moments after Joe left. Her first instinct was to scurry next door, corner Dawn in her spacious home office and get Kate on FaceTime. A glance at the clock brought a swift revision to that plan. It was close to eleven o’clock, and her news was too momentous to share electronically. Two quick calls set up an emergency girls-only luncheon at an upscale eatery only a block from the thirteen-story high-rise on G Street where Kate worked.

  Rushing into the bedroom, Callie exchanged her sweats and fuzzy slippers for boots, slacks and a roll-neck sweater. She angled a black angora beret sideways to keep her head warm and bundled up in a paisley scarf, gloves and the ankle-length khaki duster she’d snagged during a sale at Nordstrom.

  She met a similarly muffled and extremely curious Dawn on the flagstone walk connecting the main house to the guesthouse.

  “What’s the emergency?”

  “I’ll tell you and Kate together. You drive. You know your way around better than I do.”

  The light snow of the day before had pretty much turned to mush, but holiday decorations added bright touches of red, gold and green as Dawn negotiated DC’s always busy streets. When she pulled up at the popular bistro and turned her Mustang over to the valet, the two women hurried inside.

  It was still early, not yet eleven thirty, so Kate had been able to snag a booth by the round fireplace in the center of the restaurant. The noise level was still low enough for Nat King Cole’s velvet-voiced rendition of “The Christmas Song” to provide the perfect complement to the crackle of flames.

  Her tawny hair caught up in a smooth twist, Kate looked every inch the professional in a ruby blazer that hid her almost baby bump, white blouse and a flowing black skirt that draped over the top of her boots. She laid aside the menu she’d been examining and looked up expectantly as Callie and Dawn shed their outdoor gear before sliding into the booth.

  “Okay, Miss Priss and Boots. What’s so important that...oh, my God!” Jaw dropping, Kate grabbed the hand Callie was using to shake out her napkin. “This is gorgeous!”

  Beside her Dawn gasped in surprise. “You stinker! Is that what I think it is?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” Kate angled Callie’s hand from side to side. “What does that mean? Did you and Joe settle the Lassie question or not?”

  “Not exactly. But we’re working on it.”

  A server decked out in a sparkly red bow tie approached. Dawn waved him off with a quick smile.

  “Give us a few minutes. We’re talking some serious girl stuff here.” She slewed around again. “Back to you and Joe and that hunk of quartz you’re sporting. What’s the bottom line?”

  “The bottom line? Okay, brace yourself. I’m taking Carlo up on his offer of a job at International Aid to Displaced Women, and Joe wants me wearing his brand when I fly over to Rome on Thursday.”

  Her friends reacted with equal parts surprise and dismay.

  “You’re going to Rome?”

  “This Thursday?” Dawn wailed. “You can’t go this Thursday! Christmas is less than two weeks away. The three of us have gathered at one or the other’s house every Christmas since, when? Fifth grade?”

  “You’ve got Brian and Tommy to share it with now. And Kate and Travis. You’ll have a house full.”

  “It won’t be the same,” she said stubbornly. “Wonderful, but not the same.”

  “The position I’ll be filling has been vacant for several months,” Callie explained. “The director—my new boss—is anxious to get someone in place.”

  “We’re only talking another few weeks,” Kate protested. “Surely your boss can wait until after the holidays.”

  “Evidently not.” A small smile played at the corners of Callie’s mouth. “From what I can gather based on my brief conversation with Carlo this morning, he’s a bit intimidated by the woman.”

  Her friends shared another astonished look. Neither Kate nor Dawn could envision any mere female intimidating Carlo di Lorenzo. The cocky Italian Special Forces pilot with the string of royal titles after his name had racked up hundreds of combat hours. According to the paparazzi, he’d also charmed his way in and out of the same number of bedrooms.

  “This director must be a real witch,” Kate warned. “You sure you want to work for someone like that?”

  “I’ll be in Italy,” Callie said softly. “Remember what happened to you there? And to you, Dawn?”

  That silenced the other women for a few moments. Kate went all dewy eyed thinking of the surprise ceremony Travis had arranged at the Trevi Fountain to renew their wedding vows. Dawn could only grin at the memory of the sparks she and Brian had struck off each other when they’d met in Venice. She came out of her reverie in time to wave the waiter away again.

  “What about Joe?” Kate asked. “He’s content to let you zip off to Rome as long as you’re wearing his ring?”

  Callie gave a small huff. “Not hardly. By the time he got around to slipping it on my finger this morning, he’d already contacted a pal in the Defense Intelligence Agency and had them check out the organization I’ll be working for. Then he told Carlo that he’s flying in tonight to do a scrub of the center’s screening procedures. And he set up a job for himself in Naples.”

  “Naples is only an hour south of Rome.”

  Kate should know. She’d researched train schedules and driving times and every possible tourist sight for their trip to Italy a few months back.

  “So Joe informed me.” Callie fingered the ring again. “He also informed me that all I have to do is take this off and he’ll drop out of the picture, no harm, no foul.”

  “Oh, that’s romantic,” Dawn snorted. “Please tell me he didn’t use those actual words.”

  “Pretty close.”

  “Well? Are you going to remove it?”

  “No.” Sighing, Callie shook her head. “Not now, anyway. I’m still trying to sort out how I feel about him.”

  “How do you feel? Right this exact second.”

  “Happy. Confused. Excited. And,” she admitted with a reluctant laugh, “completely in lust.”

  Neither of her friends could argue with that. Or talk her out of relocating to Italy. Resigning themselves to the inevitable, they helped Callie tie up the loose ends she’d left dangling when she’d taken refuge in the Ellises’ gatehouse.

  “I’ll zip up to Boston,” Dawn volunteered. “I can sort through your closet and send you what you’ll need in Rome. But what do you want me to do with rest of it? Your furniture, your houseplants, your ton and a half of books?”

  “The books and furniture will have to go in storage. I’m pretty sure Mrs. Eckstein, my neighbor, will take the plants.”

  “How about your lease?�
� the fiscally minded Kate asked. “Does it allow you to sublet?”

  “The lease is actually up for renewal at the end of next month. Since I’m not giving them the required sixty days’ notice, I’ll probably have to forfeit January’s rent and my security deposit.”

  “Let me handle that. As for Rome, you shouldn’t have any trouble using your credit card for purchases or withdrawing cash at an ATM. But you should open an account at a local branch and transfer some operating funds, just in case. I’ll get the paperwork started, if you want.”

  “Thank you. Thank both of you!”

  The gratitude came straight from Callie’s heart. Yet she had to suppress a stupid little twinge at how easy it was to cut all ties to the life she’d lived in Boston for six years.

  Oh, for...! What was her problem? This was what she wanted. What she’d wished for at the Trevi Fountain! Adventure. Romance. A whole new chapter in her life.

  “Won’t you need a license to practice in Italy?” Dawn asked, still working the logistics in her mind.

  “I would, if I was working in an Italian treatment facility or setting up my own practice. That’s not the case here. The IADW center is physically located in Rome, but it’s governed by an international body with different credentialing requirements. According to their standards, I’m actually overqualified for the work I’ll be doing.”

  “And your parents?” Kate put in. “Have you told them you’re zipping off to Europe?”

  “Not yet. I wanted you guys to be the first to know. I’ll call them after lunch.”

  They’d be surprised, Callie knew, but not particularly concerned. Since moving to a seniors-only retirement village in central Florida six years ago, her retired teacher mom and former postal worker dad had become totally immersed in new hobbies and activities. Including, she remembered with an inner smile, their latest passion for bird-watching. She hadn’t told them about the vicious emails, and they’d voiced only mild curiosity about her extended stay in DC.

  “So you’re really going to do it,” Dawn said, breaking into her thoughts.