Chapter 2 #2
A block past the coffee shop and safely out of hearing distance, I halt, nearly colliding with his chest. “Boyfriend?” The word comes out as a hiss. I poke his sternum with my index finger. “You couldn’t just say friend?”
He catches my hand gently, his thumb brushing across my knuckles before releasing it. “Wasn’t sure what you’d told them but figured you negotiated relo in your package and you wouldn’t know anyone here so… And they’re going to see me around. Made sense to me. Spur of the moment reaction.”
It’s Rhodes I’m annoyed with, not Jake, but it doesn’t matter. Jake needs to get on a plane and go back to wherever he came from.
At the crosswalk, I jab the button with more force than necessary and tap my foot while the light takes forever to change. Jake shifts beside me, his presence making the sidewalk feel crowded.
“Hey, are you pissed?”
When the light finally changes, I step into the street without looking at him, though I can feel his eyes tracking my movement.
“No,” I lie, picking up my pace. “If Ms. Weaver asks in the future, I’ll tell her we broke up.”
“Come on now. Are you really going to deprive a man of his income?”
I round the corner, out of the view of Java Mama, and exhale, resting in the building’s shade.
“What exactly did Rhodes hire you to do?”
“Sit in an apartment across the street.”
“And watch me?” That’s freaky as hell. “How are you going to watch me when I’m inside a building?”
“Not watch. Bad word choice. Just be nearby. I won’t be in your hair. You won’t even know I’m around.” He tilts his head. “Come on. This is a sweet gig. Don’t take it from me.”
Thanks to his shades, I can’t see his eyes, but he’s still got this puppy dog look about him.
A flash of our first conversation comes out of nowhere.
We’d been standing around with FBI and local cops swarming the place, and he’d been making small talk because he worried I was going into shock.
All things considered—it was nice. He didn’t have to do that.
Sweet gig?
“You’re going to play Call of Duty all day long,” I say, divining the truth.
“I know you’re a badass and can protect yourself. It’s not like a protective detail is coming out of your paycheck.”
“What’d Rhodes do? Rent an apartment across the street for you to stay in?”
“Directly across the street. Furnished. I told you. Sweet gig.”
“How’d they find a place across the street?”
“Someone within KOAN knows the owner. It’s KOAN by the way, not Rhodes. I work for KOAN, not Rhodes.” He says it like it matters–because it does. “I don’t think the condo is typically a rental. Just sits there for when they have business in town.”
My hotel stay is racking up a bill on my credit card, and I’m about to spend the afternoon apartment hunting, which will be a bigger hit on my finances. I don’t actually want to sign a lease, as I’m hoping to uncover what’s needed to put the slime away pretty quickly.
I stop walking and turn to face him fully, hands on my hips. “How big of an apartment did Rhodes rent? Is there room for a roommate?”
Jake’s expression shifts, that slow smile spreading across his face like an early morning sunrise. He tilts his head, studying me with new interest. When he speaks, his voice drops lower. “You mean a girlfriend?”
I lift my chin, meeting his challenge. “Roommate.” The word comes out clipped and final.
“Actually, Rhodes is hoping you’ll stay with me. He’s convinced this guy you’re looking into is bad news. And, based on what I’ve read…” He lets it hang there and takes a long sip out of his straw.
“Which guy?” I ask, wondering if Rhodes has found more than I have.
I found a connection to this place, but I took the job on the inside to better understand the players and to figure out exactly what they’re doing, because Alvin Reed was onto something when he was building the class-action suit.
I have his scribbled notes and a partial list of names.
And that day, when I sat on the sticky linoleum, clearing his stuff out before the new tenants took over, I gained conviction.
He’d been onto something, and I owed it to the man who practically raised me to follow it through.
“Phillip Sterling. The head honcho. His company, Sterling Financial, has financial ties to the Middle East and Europe. Guys got friends in high places. If there’s more to it, if he’s got ties to some of the darker sides of finance, MacMillan might be onto something when he worries about you.”
I sip my iced latte, considering, and conclude this will wrap in two weeks tops and Rhodes can afford to waste his money. “Tell you what. I’ll take Rhodes up on the free place to stay.”
He grins, but there’s a tell—relief. The soldier wants permission to help.
“And if you want to hang out and play games all day, be my guest, but you gotta keep the toilet seat down and clean up your mess. And no more of this bullshit about being my boyfriend. I doubt we’ll run into Ms. Weaver again, but if you meet anyone else…
you’re a friend, my yard guy, my mechanic, I don’t know, insert your career of choice, but not my boyfriend. ”