34. The Secret Life of Charlie Lancaster
THE SECRET LIFE OF CHARLIE LANCASTER
CHARLIE
“ O h, yeah?” Owen shifts the way he’s seated just a bit. “Okay, I’m ready for the doozy. Hit me.”
“First, I need to swear you to secrecy. This stays between us.”
Owen makes a motion of zipping his lips.
“When we were sitting on the stage, you asked if I wanted to be a spy. I’ve wanted to pretty much my whole life.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Because you were kidnapped?”
“I’m sure that factored in.”
“That’s pretty cool. But wow. I was prepared for more of a doozy than that. I guess I should tell you that when I was five, I wanted to be a magician who solved crimes. Basically, if Sherlock Holmes had a top hat and a rabbit.”
I chuckle quietly and give him a playful push. “That wasn’t the doozy part. Stay in that prepared state, because I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone before.” I take a breath. “You know how I told you that I work for the family business?”
“Yeah.”
“Lancaster Business Solutions isn’t actually the family business. That’s just our cover.”
Owen cocks his head.
“The family business, or at least the business most of my family is in, is the spy business, although we don’t actually call it that. I work for a top-secret government intelligence agency.”
Owen pauses a moment, then says, “Wait. Are you being serious?”
“One hundred percent. IT Systems Coordinator is my cover job title. I’m actually a Technical Operations Officer.
Tech op for short. Or handler, whichever you prefer.
Tech op is better, but I prefer handler because I don’t know.
I guess it makes me feel like I have more control, even though the term is most used for an intelligence operative with their asset.
I’m the one who’s behind the computer while the intelligence operative is out in the field, doing a mission. ”
“Oh. So you’re the one who hacks into traffic lights and security systems, and guides the operative in the field through a laser-grid hallway while chewing on gummy bears and being wildly underappreciated.”
“And who says things like ‘I’ve got eyes on you’ and somehow knows everything even while sitting in a windowless van. Yep! That’s me.” I give Owen a minute because he looks like he needs it.
Eventually, he says, “So… it’s like the CIA.”
“Similar. Except the CIA isn’t a secret agency. We are.”
“Oh, right. So, back when we were lying on the blanket in the grass behind our townhomes, you said you’d been recruited into the family business. So, that means you were recruited into a top-secret government spy?—”
“—intelligence.”
“—agency right out of college?”
“Yes. It’s a lot to take in, I know. Well, I mean,” I gesture to our surroundings, “so is being kidnapped.”
“Abducted.”
“By the guy who was single-handedly funding your dream and secretly bulldozing it at the same time.”
“And you work for?”
“The Clandestine Services Agency. Or you can call it the CSA. We do.”
“And I can’t tell anyone.”
“Right. No one. Not even Tessa. Reese doesn’t even know what I really do.”
“Oh, wow. Okay. And that was how you found out about…” he glances at Giovanni, “our host?”
He’s using good instincts to not mention Giovanni by name. People are always attuned to their name. “Yes.”
“And is… your work…” He makes a complicated hand motion that I’m guessing is supposed to mean “the ones taking down Giovanni.”
I say in a quiet voice, “Several agencies working together, both here and in Italy, in conjunction with local law enforcement.” I look around. “I just keep thinking, what would one of my brothers do if he were the one who was captured? Well, one of my field operative brothers, of course, and?—”
“Wait. You said it’s a family business. Your brothers are spies!” he hisses, and then looks over at the men to make sure he wasn’t loud enough for them to hear.
“Yes. Jace, Ledger, and Miles are intelligence operatives in the field, and Emerson is an analyst.”
Owen leans back against the brick, staring at nothing. Then he says, “That actually makes so much sense.”
“Oh, and while you’re taking it all in, I should also mention that my mom is the director of the CSA.”
Owen puts his hands over his face for a moment before running them up and through his hair.
“So , when you said at the wedding that if your mom ever aims ‘intimidating’ at me, then run, you weren’t being overly dramatic.
She could probably kill me three different ways using only whatever she had on her person at the wedding. ”
I look up, counting. “Four different ways. But she wouldn’t . That’s the important part. Oh, and my dad was the director before my mom. That story I told you about him dying on the job? That was true—he just had a different job than what I’d said.”
I remember back to yesterday, which feels like it happened days ago, when I was having lunch with Abraham.
He told me to give Owen enough information but not too much information, or I’d overwhelm him, and that it was a balancing act getting it just right.
He was referring to me telling Owen about Giovanni, not about my secret double life, but the sentiment is the same for everything.
Yeah, I’ve clearly not scored high points on that balancing act. Owen is overwhelmed. His arm is still around me, but I give his other hand a squeeze and wait patiently, trying not to add to the overwhelm.
Eventually, he shifts the way he’s sitting so he’s turned a bit more toward me, and he runs his hands through his hair. “Wow. I am in love with a woman who’s a spy, in a family of spies. Sorry, intelligence operatives . That is wild.”
I tilt my head. “You’re in love with me?”
“Of course I’m in love with you, Charlie. You’re everything.”
I smile with my whole face. “Well, I’m in love with you, too.”
Owen leans in closer, his mouth just a breath away. “Well, that works out very conveniently for us, doesn’t it?”
“I think so,” I breathe, moving in even closer.
Owen reaches a hand up to cup the side of my neck, his fingertips in my hair, and he kisses me.