37. Eleanor
37
Eleanor
What in the holy hell and whole world…
I wake to a text from Mac, my phone buzzing on the bed next to me and scaring me out of my half-conscious snoozing with the noise that’s been so absent from my life lately. The clock tells me it’s a little after noon, so I’ve been asleep for about four hours.
Hey baby. Come to Wes’s cave when you wake up.
I set the phone face down next to me and give my whole body one of those toe-curling stretches. I can feel all the tightness in my abs and obliques and inner thighs that reminds me of exactly how I spent my early morning. And I’m very sore.
The soreness on my ass, on the other hand, is only skin deep.
God, anytime he wants to try to spank the self-doubt out of me again, I will happily submit.
I hop in the shower, since Mac’s text didn’t sound particularly urgent, and put on some soft clothes in preparation for spending another day in paradise. Some people in my position would probably have gone stir crazy by now, but I’m finding that I genuinely enjoy my day spent planning and cooking, feeding these guys, and doing whatever I feel like in soft pants that have a drawstring.
Padding down to the first floor, I hang a right where I’d normally go left towards the kitchen and approach Wesley’s study. I don’t make a habit of being on this side of the first floor—even though it has all the other rooms for entertainment purposes, I hate feeling like I might bother him. He’s always typing furiously or talking to someone through his headset in a low voice .
“All I’m saying is, as far as nicknames, The Exterminator isn’t bad,” I hear Mac arguing from the room at the end of the hall.
“Like, ‘I’ll be back, but you won’t’?” Wesley laughs.
Feeling a little silly because it’s open, I knock on the door. Wesley is reclining back in his office chair, arms crossed, facing Mac, who’s got his torso turned, leaning with his elbow over the back of his. Mac jumps up when he sees me, and comes around the desk. He meets me with a kiss, and grabs the other chair to start dragging it around.
“Morning, darlin’. Do I need to ask how you slept?” he says with a wink.
I can sense Wesley’s eyes on us, so my face starts heating involuntarily. It feels like I’m a teenager, kissing my boyfriend in front of my parents. “So good it’s not morning anymore,” I say. “What’s up—what did you need me for?”
“Hang on just a tick, I’ll get Dimitri back…” Wesley says, leaning forward and pressing a few keys.
Mac gestures to the chair that puts me between him and Wesley, facing all the screens. I feel a little like I’m entering a cockpit, or Batman’s secret lair where he watches all of Gotham. This many screens is honestly overwhelming—I don’t even know where to look.
Suddenly, Dimitri’s angry face fills the screen. “I was just about to take a piss, must you—” he cuts himself off, seeing me.
“Hi,” I say to him, waving a little awkwardly at the camera.
His scowl softens. “Hello, Eleanor,” he says, much more gently.
“This is about the job—Rossi?” I guess, glancing side to side. I push my chair back a little so I can have all three of them in my view at the same time. “I’ll help however I can.”
Mac places a hand on my leg and gives it a little squeeze that shoots right to my nipples, tightening them. I hope that the desire he sparks—even from such an innocent touch—never fades.
“We’ll get to that,” he says. “First, some questions about the other night, in the restaurant, when Rossi and the Mayor showed up. As much as you can remember, can you walk us through exactly what happened?”
“Um, sure. So, you left and I was sitting there and the executive chef came by to chat. We were talking about… um, substitutions being annoying to deal with in the kitchen and the mayor interrupted. He put his hand on my shoulder, like to say sorry for interrupting—” Mac makes a low grumbling noise of disapproval, for which I shoot him a private kind of smile. “He shook hands with the chef, and was saying, like, he was looking forward to the meal. He asked if Chef Anh had met his business partner, Jay Rossi—”
“Business partner? That’s the exact phrase he used?” Mac asks.
I falter. “Uh…”
“Not, my friend? Or, restaurateur, or something like that?”
“No, it was definitely business-y. I remember because they were both wearing suits and I thought it made sense because they looked like they were coming from some kind of meeting. Maybe he said associate?”
Wesley and Mac look at each other.
“Associate implies something different than partner, but either way he’s stressing a business connection,” Mac is pointing out to Wesley, who’s nodding thoughtfully. He turns back to me. “What happened after that?”
“Um… Chef Anh said something that was kind of an inside joke with me and kind of at the mayor’s expense, so he turned to look at me for the first time. Asked my name,” I look down, feeling my cheeks heat, “I gave it… I didn’t think to lie—”
“That is not important. Go on,” Dimitri interrupts impatiently. For some reason, the fact that he’s the one that says it relieves my guilt more than Mac or Wesley might have. Maybe it’s because Dimitri has never sugar coated anything he’s said to protect my feelings, so I know he really means that this thing I thought was a massive fuckup is not important.
“Rossi looked at me, too, and I think he recognized my name.”
“Did the mayor?” Wesley asks.
“I don’t think so,” I shake my head. “If he did, he hid it really well.”
“Then what?”
“They… walked to their table. Rossi kept looking at me.”
“And the mayor?”
“His back was to me, so I’m not sure, and at that point I was trying to hide my face. It looked like they were there to have some sort of meeting. And that was kind of it until Dimitri showed up to rescue me… I’m going to go out on a limb here an d guess that the mayor is that lead you were following up on?” I say to Mac.
Mac nods and leans forward to take my hand. “Baby, we need your help.”
Mac goes on to explain what they need—with some interjections from Wesley and taciturn silence from Dimitri—and dread slowly fills my stomach like lead weights. I shoot up out of the chair and walk around the back of it, like putting it between us will somehow protect me from the idea.
“What in the holy hell and whole world makes you think I’m the right person to do this?” I explode.
“McCloskey already knows you and it is likely he will underestimate you,” Dimitri says. “He will not be as threatened by a woman.”
“But I’m literally the worst liar. When you saw me do it the first time, you said, and I quote, that I needed to ‘work on my face,’” I remind Mac, accusatory.
“We’ll be there, helping you,” Mac says.
“I’m not what the kids would call ‘cool under pressure.’”
“Kids don’t say that,” Wesley pipes in helpfully.
I cut him a glare, then return my attention back to Mac. “I don’t think on my feet well when I’m afraid.”
“No one does. And you won’t have to. We’ll be there, helping you,” Wesley repeats Mac’s sentiment.
Mac stands and circles his chair. He lays his hands on my shoulders and leans his head down to catch my eye. “Remember when I tackled you and tied you up, then you watched me shoot a bunch of bad guys?”
Wes hides a smile.
I scratch my elbow and scoff. “If this is your way of trying to convince me that I’ll be able to keep a cool head, you picked the wrong example.”
“But you did keep a pretty cool head,” he argues.
“I was terrified! I thought I was going to die!”
“James will be with you, you will be safe,” Dimitri says.
“That’s not what I’m worried about. If Mac’s there, I know I’ll be safe,” I say.
His chest physically puffs a little at that and he grins at me. “Fuckin’ A, baby. ”
“I’m…” I trail off and lift my eyes to Mac’s. I can see his confidence, like it’s an extension of him, and I wonder if it really extends to me. He wouldn’t suggest it if he didn’t think it would work. “You really think I can do it?”
He tips my chin up using his finger. “I know you can, darlin’.”
I inhale and chew on my lip. If I’m really being honest with myself, I knew my part in this wasn’t quite over. Not after what happened at the restaurant. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”
“Brilliant,” Wesley exclaims, as Dimitri says, “Good girl,” which earns him a sharp look from Mac.
“Okay, come sit back down,” Mac says, taking my hand and leading me back to the desk. “Once we get started, there’s no going back and it’s all going to go really fast. But it’s the best shot we’re going to get. So, I’m going to go over what we’re going to do, and if you have questions, ask them. Okay? It’s important that you understand what’s going to happen and feel comfortable with your part in it.”
I nod.
About an hour, a bajillion questions, and a mini panic attack later, Wesley is handing me an untraceable cell phone. Dimitri dropped the video call before they really got into explaining the plan, so I know he’s probably already getting started with what he has to do.
“Wes and I are right here,” Mac says. It’s probably the sixth time he’s had to console me with that.
Wesley slides the legal pad where he’s been jotting out a little script for me. “Remember, it’s all right if you sound scared,” he says. “It’ll help sell it.”
“Ulysses County Sheriff’s office,” says the voice that answers the phone on the non-emergency line. She has a thick Jersey accent and sounds bored.
“Um, is Officer McCloskey there?”
“Sure, hon. Who’s calling and what’s this about?”
Wes coaches my next words, mouthing them silently to me. “He, uh… came to my door a couple weeks ago. I have some information for him about the person he’s looking for.”
Wesley gives me a thumbs up.
“Okay, name?”
Wes underlines where he’s written NO LAST NAME on the paper .
“Eleanor.”
“Okay, hold please.”
Some standard waiting music comes on the line and I let out the rest of the breath I somehow managed to keep inside my lungs while talking. Mac rubs my back. This is the easy part, though. I can get through a phone call—it’s the meet-up that’s really going to test how strong my stomach is.
“McCloskey,” a deep, gruff voice barks. I jump a little, because I was expecting the woman to come back on the line.
“H-hi,” I stammer, then wince. Not a super strong start, there. Mac taps the page, where he’s crossed off the NO on his previous instructions. “It’s Eleanor Wilson.”
“Where the hell have you been?” he asks, though his voice is lowered now. I think I hear him get up and shut his door. “You haven’t been seen in weeks; we assumed you skipped town. You’re going to be in huge trouble—”
“Officer, I am in trouble,” I read. I have to really try not to let it leak into my voice, but I’m beyond impressed that not only did Mac and Wesley predict he’d immediately go on the offensive, but Mac actually guessed the exact words he’d use. “I’m really scared. I need your help.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s the Russian… I can’t say over the phone. But please… meet me. Maplewood Park in an hour?”
“How do I know this is legit? Not some kind of trap?”
Wes taps the part of the page where he wrote IF HE’S SUSPICIOUS. “Um… you can pick the spot in the park?”
There’s a bit of silence and I swear I hear the faint sound of typing, like he’s looking it up. “The double bench by the swing set, on the side that faces the parking lot. I’ll be there in an hour and a half.”
Mac nods. “Okay,” I agree.
“But if you’re wasting my time or—”
Mac points to END IT. So, I hang up on him, mid-sentence.
Wes is all smiles, which makes me tentatively pleased. “I think that went well! Our Eleanor’s a natural. ”
Yeah, if you call having a racing heart, shaking hands and feeling like I want to throw up being a natural at something…
“And now we know he’s trying to be a strong man. Coming out the gate with threats, trying to keep her off balance.”
Wes checks his watch. “And what a prat, making her wait a half hour when—for all he knows—she's scared for her life.”
“He was just giving himself more time to scope everything out beforehand. He’ll be there as soon as he can, so we have to move,” Mac says.
I stand and head upstairs with Mac—both of us have to change into outside clothes, though his is the all-black, kickass ensemble of someone trying not to be noticed and I just have to put on jeans. I mentally repeat the plan to myself like a mantra, in an effort to calm my nerves.
As soon as we’re both dressed, he stops me with my hand on the doorknob. “Before we do this, I need you to know you can still back out—you can still say no. I know we just spent hours planning and drilling into you what to say and do… but this is not a risk you have to take, okay?
“Because we can try to control for everything that might go wrong, and believe me, darlin’, we are trying. But in the end, there’s always the possibility that something happens that we didn’t expect. Someone doesn’t show up who’s supposed to, someone acts in a way you couldn’t predict… someone comes back to a fumigated building for a medication.”
“What kind of dummy would do that?” I laugh, and he smiles in response. “So, what do you do?”
“There’s no way to plan for everything. Sometimes you’ve gotta think on your feet and try to minimize the consequences.”
I nod. “I think, deep down, I knew that. And I’m not going to lie to you—that scares me. But what’s going on in my city scares me. What Rossi does scares me. The thought of not having a life with you here scares me…” I bite my lip and meet his eyes, blazing with something that feels a lot like love. “I’m not saying I want to be the fourth musketeer or anything, but I think I can step up to protect what’s mine. ”
His expression is grave. Instead of answering me, he sweeps me into his arms, holds me close to his chest, and presses his mouth down on mine. “Thank you for helping us. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for being brave.”
I inhale a shaky breath through my nose, trying not to let his kind words go straight to my tear ducts. I’m struck with the knowledge that I would do anything for him, truly, and it also scares me—a little too much to say out loud. It’s a different fear than the paralysis of not knowing what to say on the phone, it’s one my fight or flight response learned from life beating me down.
I feel the corners of my mouth lift just enough to be considered a smile and nod at him. “Let’s finish this.”