Chapter 19
Chapter 19
C arol knew the exact moment she was in trouble. When the swarthy man lifted his shirt and she saw his abs, abs that looked like they’d been precision cut with a laser on a production line, she gave them a glance and focused on David instead. David, who looked like he’d been formed on that same production line, only in Play-Doh, so it made him squishy and touchable, as if someone drew him with a pencil and then smudged all the edges, softening them. And so it was that the second man she was attracted to in her entire life was a security guard, thousands of miles from anything and anyone familiar. Not her style, not her style at all.
She withdrew her phone and sent an SOS text. Halp!
What?? Why did you spell like that? The return text came immediately, despite the late hour where the recipient lived.
So you would know it was a figurative emergency and not literal, Carol replied.
What is figurative emergency?
Carol frowned at her phone. Did someone rob you and steal all your extra words? Why are you typing like you’re writing fortune cookies?
Nursing baby using me as chew. Typing one hand, came the reply.
Carol smiled, imagining the cozy picture. In culinary school she’d been roommates with three other women. They’d bonded in the way only poverty, youth, and enthusiasm can bind people, meaning they were lifers, despite the fact that she hadn’t seen some of them since graduation. The particular friend she now texted, Poppy Dunbar, rather Poppy Dunbar Langford, thanks to her hasty elopement, was as close to her as anyone on earth, and yet she hadn’t seen her in person in five long years. I need baby snuggles, Carol replied.
Visit, Poppy replied.
Carol sighed. She would love to visit, especially right now in her current debacle. She would guess there was nowhere farther on earth from David Jones than Poppy’s tiny town in West Texas. Even he, with all his fancy Navy SEAL assignments, had probably never heard of her friend’s new tiny hometown. Maybe someday.
In return, Poppy sent her a rolling eye emoji, most likely because she knew it wasn’t true. Carol traveled the entire year. And for those few days when she wasn’t traveling she was in Maine with Brody and Georgette, Brody’s sister. Which brought her full circle to the reason she was texting Poppy in the first place. There’s this guy.
Uh…Brody?
Poppy knew Brody, of course. Georgette was one of their fearsome foursome, along with Sparrow, wild child and current bad girl of the chef world. Brody had been a near permanent fixture at their tiny New York apartment. He had taken the role of protective big brother to new heights, personally screening all of Georgette’s roommates before she was allowed to live with them. That was the first day Carol met him, as a bright-eyed eighteen year old, on her own and in search of a roommate. She had fallen hard for his strong silent type vibes and, she wasn’t going to lie, ridiculous good looks. The feeling hadn’t been mutual. Carol had never tricked herself into believing she was the bombshell sort who made men drool. Slow and steady wins the race could be her life motto. Eventually, a year after culinary school, Brody began showing interest. From there they fell seamlessly into a pleasant and easy relationship, one where they spent exactly five days a year together, texting and trading photos the other three hundred sixty. Is that enough for me? It was the first time Carol had ever asked herself the question. For so long Brody had been her ideal. He was solid, dependable, kind, and good. But he didn’t share her love of adventure. Or travel. Or food. She thought of him like her anchor, tethering her to her home country, holding a place for her while she worked through her boundless wanderlust. But what if it was more than that? What if they were each other’s security blankets? What if they were holding on to each other so they didn’t have to do the hard work of finding someone else, didn’t have to face the possible rejection of meeting someone new?
Not Brody.
Uh-oh. Spill.
I met a boy on vacation.
RUN AWAY. VACATION BOYS ARE NEVER THE RIGHT ONES.
Ummm, didn’t you marry a boy you met on vacation? Carol reminded her. Poppy had a fling with her Sully that turned into a baby, that then turned into marriage, that then turned into love. Carol hadn’t been able to attend the wedding or reception, but she’d seen multiple pictures and, yowza, she totally got it. Only someone who looked and acted like Texas Ranger Sully Langford could settle her free-spirited, driven little Poppy.
Yes, but…shaddup. You know the stats. USUALLY it doesn’t work out. I’m the exception, obvi. Plus we’re different. You’re Carol. You’re RELIABLE.
YOU TAKE THAT BACK, POPPY LANGFORD, Carol typed. Reliable. Ugh. She was not reliable. She was a world traveler. She’d been more places the last year than most people visited in a lifetime.
Stop shouting, Grandma. That’s why we love you. So the sun rises and sets, our Carol will always be our Carol. You may love adventure travel, but deep down you’re steady. Calm waters. You’re our Sweetie!
This boy thinks I’m awful, Carol informed her.
HAHAHAHAHAHA. No he doesn’t because it’s not possible. You’re best person I know, best person anyone knows.
Carol could only imagine David’s reaction if she showed him Poppy’s text. He wouldn’t believe it. He would bluster and stammer and point at her, adorable cheeks flushing with anger. I’m seriously screwing everything up here, Poppy. HALP.
Take a deep breath. Rewind. Forget other boy, no matter how cute. Focus on you. Is Brody what you want? If so, run away from cute boy. If not, cut the tether.
YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT TO DO, NOT GIVE WISE ADVICE TO MAKE ME FIGURE IT OUT FOR MYSELF. MOTHERHOOD AND MARRIAGE HAVE RUINED YOU. GIVE ME BACK MY WILD, THOUGHTLESS POPPY!!
Grown up now. Deal. Also stop screaming. Giving me virtual headache. Also going to need secret photo of boy so I can judge him by his hotness. If too hot, then merely temp insanity and vacation overload. Worth a fling, not worth getting flung.
FORTUNE COOKIE SAYS WHAT?? Carol replied.
Shut it. Am wise and junk. Wiser while being chewed on by baby in middle of night. By the time baby gets all teeth, will be renowned philosopher.
Carol smiled, stroking a finger affectionately over her phone. Thanks. I love you much.
Love you, too.
Carol paused and typed the part she was reluctant to send. Will you still love me if I break up with Brody?
ABSOLUTELY!
Will Georgette still love me? Carol tried.
The little text bubble hovered for a long time before Poppy eventually replied. I think yes. You know GG, she feels things deep. But eventually we’ll all move on and deal. Do what’s best for you. Baby is finally asleep. Fortune Cookie out.
W hen Carol returned to the kitchen, she inadvertently interrupted what looked like a heated debate between Jones and Ribs.
“Let it go,” Jones hissed before realizing Carol was once again in the room. He tried and failed to muster a smile and she tried and failed not to be hurt by that.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said.
“It’s fine,” Jones said.
“We were talking about you,” Ribs said at the same moment. Jones made a hissing sound like a radiator emptying itself of steam. “Jonesie was bringing me up to date on the case and all the trouble you’re in. I think there’s only one obvious solution.”
“Send her home,” Jones said.
“Use her as bait,” Ribs said at the same time. Jones hissed again, longer and more expressively this time.
“You can’t. She’s a civilian. Besides, she would hate it,” Jones said.
“I would love it,” Carol said, clapping her hands excitedly.
“Good, it’s settled,” Ribs said.
“It’s not settled,” Jones argued. “Look at her.” Her motioned toward Carol who, nervous at being cast into the center of attention, gave an awkward parade float wave. “She’s not a spook. She’s a…” he snapped his fingers at Carol, urging her to fill in the blank.
“Classically trained chef,” Carol supplied.
“Right. A classically trained chef. And a…” Jones prompted.
“Corporate spy,” Carol added helpfully.
“Corporate spy. Corporate. What does she know about actual spying?”
“Probably a lot,” Ribs said. “She knows how to be sneaky, how to keep a cover. She doesn’t have to do any of the heavy lifting or danger work because we’ll do that.”
“But look at her ,” Jones said. Carol waved again. He huffed and settled his arm on her shoulders, facing her toward Ribs. “She’s little and guileless and cute. She has a dimple, for goodness sake.”
“I have two, actually,” Carol inserted, pulling her cheek up hard to make her second dimple pop.
“Two dimples.” Jones tossed the declaration toward Ribs like an indictment.
“So do you, Jonesie,” Ribs reminded him.
“That’s different. I’ve had the training. I was a SEAL.”
“Carol was in the CIA,” Ribs said, high fiving her.
“That’s not…you can’t…she wasn’t…”
“Uh-oh, you broke him again,” Carol said.
Jones swiped his free hand over his face. His other arm was still around Carol’s shoulders, unconsciously aligning them together against Ribs. What he didn’t understand was how everything in his world had gone wrong since he met her. How had it gotten so mixed up, so upside down? She was a train wreck of epic proportions, yet everyone called her Sweetie. Even Ribs, who was usually cynical about women, had somehow been duped into believing Carol was normal. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t . Jones could see the truth, even if no one else could. And he had to protect her, even if no one else would. She might get on his ever loving last nerve, but he didn’t want anything to happen to her.
“Jones, it’s going to be okay,” Ribs said.
“How can you possibly say that?” Jones asked.
“Because we have these on our side,” Ribs said, lifting his shirt to display his magnificent abs again. And Carol clapped for him, feeding his already too-big ego.
“You look like you should be on a recruitment poster somewhere,” she told him.
“Don’t say things like that to him. He doesn’t need to hear them,” Jones told her.
“But you look good, too, David. More realistic. Just right, actually,” she said and then surprised him by turning slightly to hug his waist in a move that was shockingly reassuring.
“Oh,” Jones stammered, cheeks flushing with an embarrassing blush. It wasn’t that women didn’t find him attractive, but usually it was when he was on his own. It rarely to never happened when he was with one of his Adonis-looking teammates. “Um.” He patted her back a couple of times. “Thanks, I guess.” He hated that Ribs was bearing witness to this. It would fuel the unending supply of teasing his teammates always had at the ready for him. But when Ribs spoke, he sounded normal. Normal for him, albeit.
“I actually was asked to be on a recruitment poster. Then they saw the teeth marks and said no.” He motioned to his massive scar. “I guess they were afraid it would frighten away the newbies.”
Carol faced him, frowning. “That’s outrageous. They should want to attract the people who aren’t afraid of a shark bite.”
“To be fair, I don’t think there’s anyone who isn’t afraid of shark bites,” Jones inserted, belatedly realizing he and Carol were still canoodling. How? And why? She was like a ghost, sneaking past his defenses in all the ways.
“Do you want me to write a strongly worded letter to them?” Carol offered. “I am amazing at strongly worded letters.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ribs said, ruffling her hair in a way that caused both her cheeks to dimple in response. There was something abnormal here, something greatly amiss. Ribs did not warm up to women easily, and now he and Carol were like long lost brother and sister who had finally been reunited. How was it possible Ribs didn’t see how completely annoying and overbearing she was? And, more importantly, WHY WAS HE STILL HUGGING HER? He dropped his arms and took a step back, rifling his hair. Did she perform some kind of voodoo curse on them to make them act this way?
Ribs and Carol regarded him with matching expressions, like he was the one with a problem when clearly it was both of them. “So, to be clear, we are not using Carol as bait. She is not part of this operation. No discussion, the end.”
Ribs and Carol continued to stare at him with the same stoic expression. Then they turned to each other and smiled. “Let’s plan,” Carol said, clapping her hands together.
“Let’s,” Ribs agreed, mimicking her. They sat down together, leaving Jones hovering at the edge of the room like the outsider he now was.