Epilogue Two
CHARM, DISARM, REPEAT
Miles
I’ve done some pretty ridiculous things to get inside a restricted area before. I’ve forged a film crew permit, rerouted a delivery truck to hitch a ride inside, and coordinated a flash mob to use as a distraction. One time, I even faked an engagement to a diplomat’s daughter.
But this time, the golden path Jace and I had planned didn’t pan out. Neither did our silver nor bronze paths. So now we’re left with no time and no props. Just my “player” reputation and Jace’s annoyingly smug faith in it.
He nudges me with his elbow as we lean against the railing of a sidewalk café in downtown Lisbon , acting casual. “That woman right there wearing a lanyard—red blazer by the gate.”
She’s standing just inside the security perimeter of the modern art museum that also happens to house a very not-public underground storage vault that contains a ledger we need to acquire. I nod. “She might be able to get us there. Do you have a plan?”
Jace shrugs, and like it’s no big deal, he suggests, “Why don’t you go work your charm-and-disarm routine and get her to take you there?”
I grin. “Oh, is that all?” I push myself off the railing, adjust the collar of my button-down, and run my fingers through my hair, smoothing it after being in this breeze. “Any chance you want to offer backup or maybe a distraction?”
“I’m the guy watching the perimeter,” Jace says as he pulls out his phone to look at it so it won’t appear to onlookers as though he’s doing exactly that—watching the perimeter. “You’re the guy who makes women forget what job they’re doing.”
I roll my eyes. “One of these days, that’s going to stop working.”
“You? Give up the bachelor’s life? I have a hard time picturing it, but maybe someday. Today is not that day, though.”
I head toward the woman, already putting on the persona.
I toss her a smile—just the right mix of charming and sheepish—and strike up a conversation about the art exhibit.
Turns out she’s passionate about modern art and aesthetics, and I pretend to be interested in a non-existent sculpture exhibit that I tell her is in the museum’s off-limits wing.
Within five minutes, she’s smiling and touching my arm.
By seven minutes in, she’s offering to walk me there herself.
On our way, she’s talking about marble inlay floors, and I’m complimenting her attention to detail.
And I do what I always do—lean in just close enough to keep her distracted, say just enough to keep her curious, and steer the conversation exactly where I need it to go.
Does it bother me that everyone sees me as a player? No. It’s much better than them seeing the alternative, which is that I’m hopelessly, pathetically in love with my best friend, Reese, and have been for years.
I’m reminded often that the sentiment is completely one-sided, though. It wasn’t too long ago when Reese told me that I’d make some girl very happy one day. Like it wasn’t even a possibility it might be her.
At least this version of me doesn’t come with rejection by the one person I can’t seem to stop falling for.
So I flirt. I charm. I disarm. I offer the smile I know will always get people to let their guard down. And I let everyone keep believing what they want to believe.
Because this? This is safer .
Even if it is a complete lie.
Want more of Miles and Reese? Read their story in Spies Don’t Fall for Their Best Friend . And, of course, you will see more of Charlie, Owen, and the entire Lancaster family!
In the field, I’m trained to charm, disarm, and get out clean.
But Reese is the one mission I’ve never been able to walk away from.
We’ve been best friends for years, and we do everything together. She’s the person I call when something’s funny, when something’s hard, when I just need to be with someone who gets me. But what she doesn’t know—what no one knows—is that all this time, I’ve only ever wanted her.
I’m just the guy who never dates anyone seriously. She’s just the girl who’s convinced we’re better off as friends.
But I swear, something is shifting. I think this may either be the beginning of everything or the perfect friendship’s final mission.
Abort mission? Or proceed with heart fully exposed?
“Spies Don’t Fall for Their Neighbor” is a closed-door romantic comedy brimming with chemistry and witty banter. In a world where the family business is the spy business, prepare to laugh, swoon, and fall head over heels in love.
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