Chapter 25
Chapter 25
“ W ho responds to being shot like that?” Carol declared, annoyed as they paced the resort’s medical clinic, waiting for Victoria to be patched. “Seriously, she glances down at her arm with a tiny pout and says, I do not have time for zis , and didn’t even get blood on her shirt. What is wrong with her? Is she even human? Is she a cyborg?”
Jones watched her pace back and forth, trying to wrap his mind around her annoyance. Nearby Ribs seemed intent on helping fuel it.
“Don’t forget she ran after the guy in heels,” he added.
Carol pointed at him. “Don’t think I didn’t factor that in. There is something seriously wrong with her.” Now that she faced them, she encompassed them in her disapproving frown.
“What did we do?” Jones asked. His stomach gurgled, with hunger or nerves? He had no idea, but it didn’t matter. He had already ascertained that there was no food in the medical clinic. Carol, attuned to the sound, reached in her purse and handed him a piece of cheese, mindlessly, as if on rote. Someone makes a hunger noise, she automatically provides sustenance. Magic.
“You’re just men ,” she said, placing the cheese in his palm, along with two dried apricots that appeared as if by magic. “That’s what you go for, all of you, blond and beautiful and oh-so-capable, and it was a busy morning, and I am so tired.” She sat with a little harrumph, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Not all of us go for women like that,” Ribs said mildly, but they both ignored him because of course men like Ribs went for women like Victoria. They were in the same lane; their destiny had already been established. So it was up to Jones to swallow his snack, sit next to Carol, and hold her hand.
She let out a pent up breath and rested her head on his shoulder with a murmured, “Sorry.”
“You’re hangry,” he guessed.
“Maybe,” she conceded, reaching into her purse for her own cheese/apricot snack.
“And tired,” he added.
“A little.”
“And stressed about everything that’s been happening,” he added.
“Surprisingly no,” she said, and she sounded sincere.
“How can that be? I’m stressed,” he said.
She fed him another apricot. “Sometimes you know a thing is the right thing to do. That’s how I feel about this meeting. Information needs to be obtained, you need me to obtain it. Seems easy.”
“But the danger,” he said, after he swallowed his apricot.
“Danger, schmanger,” Carol said.
“You worry me, Carol,” he said.
In answer, she linked her arm with his and rested her head on his shoulder again, and it was nice . Jones felt the feeling again, the one he couldn’t identify. The inability to put a name to it was driving him crazy. If he could figure out what it was, he might know what to do with it. In lieu of an answer, he shifted and kissed the top of her head. And though he couldn’t see her, he could tell she smiled. That made him smile, which in turn made Ribs smile.
By the time the clinic’s assistant came to retrieve them, they were all smiling like fools, probably the incorrect reaction to a teammate who’d just been shot. But Victoria was fine, they’d been assured of that when they brought her in, fully conscious and completely irritated. The bullet had merely grazed her arm, how badly remained to be seen.
“She’s ready,” the clinic’s doctor said. Jones didn’t think he was actually a doctor, but he obviously had some medical knowledge and ability to perform stitches. “The bullet grazed the muscle. She’ll be sore and out of commission for a couple of days, but I expect it to heal nicely.” He bit into a papaya, letting the juice flow freely down his chin, as if he needed to prove to them all how unconventional he was. Or maybe he was merely ready for them to go. The most he usually dealt with was resort guests with a hangover or sniffles. Whatever his reasoning, he abandoned Victoria into their care and disappeared.
Victoria emerged from the room next, looking crankier than before she went in. “Zat man got papaya juice on my dress.” Her eyes narrowed on the doctor’s retreating backside. If Jones were him, he’d watch his back the next few days until she was over her snit.
“Are you okay?” Carol asked.
Victoria seemed confused. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because a gun shot a bullet through your body,” Carol said slowly.
“Bah, was a graze,” Victoria said, waving her away with the free hand on her good arm, her left.
“But can you shoot?” Ribs interjected.
Victoria paused, and they had their answer. Her breath left in a defeated little sigh. “I am not as good as I would like with my left.”
Carol rubbed her temples. Jones didn’t need her thoughts to understand them this time. That’s what makes her feel bad about herself? That she’s not as good at killing people with her left hand as she is with her right? What is wrong with this woman? Out loud she said, “That settles it, then. We’re back to the original plan. David and I will have the meeting and retrieve the information.”
Victoria and Ribs shared a significant look. Neither was comfortable with the idea, but with Victoria out of commission, it had moved from novel to necessary.
No one said anything, and Carol took their silence personally. She sat up away from Jones. “Come on, you guys, it will be fine. We’re not going on a mission. We’re taking a meeting. I’ve taken dozens of meetings over the years. I’m quite good at receiving information. Like a human answering machine.”
“Okay,” Ribs said, moving away from the wall he’d been keeping upright. “Let’s do this. Victoria and I will run comms and be backup. You two will take the meeting.”
“We’re ready. Put us in,” Carol demanded cheerfully. “Right, David?” She turned to peer up at Jones, and it happened again. His stomach clenched painfully and turned over because…because why?
His face must have been expressive because Ribs said, “Yes, David, are you ready?”
“I…okay,” Jones stammered.
Victoria huffed, and everyone faced her. “Zis, then, is the best the American office has to offer. Explains a lot.” With a swish of her perfect blond hair, she turned and stormed out of the clinic.
“Are we certain she wasn’t the intended target? Like someone who knows her personally was trying to take her out, maybe,” Carol suggested.
“No way,” Ribs said. “If it was personal against her, they definitely wouldn’t have missed.”
“I know we’re new friends, but I really love you,” Carol declared, beaming at him.
“There’s a lot of that going around in this room,” Ribs agreed. He tossed Jones a significant look, and Jones shook his head. Clearly he was attracted to Carol, but he didn’t love her. He barely knew her. “Why don’t you go on ahead? Jones and I need to talk about…strategy.”
“I’ll go catch up with Victoria. I think our plan to become lifelong besties is really coming along,” Carol said as she exited the clinic.
Ribs watched her go with a smile. “She’s adorable. All pint-sized and sassy. Like sweet and sour sauce in one of those plastic bear containers.”
“That is so genuinely weird,” Jones replied.
“No, what’s weird is watching your reaction to her,” Ribs said.
“What do you mean?” Jones asked, squirming a little.
“First you hated her. I’ve known you ten years and not seen you hate anyone before, not even insurgents. So it was pretty funny to see you hate someone named Sweetie who is five feet tall and supplies you with sugar on the regular. But now my amusement has morphed into genuine concern.”
Jones pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I know I screwed up. I got her into this ordeal and am probably the first person in the history of ever to confuse the Culinary Institute of America with the actual CIA,” here he paused for Ribs’s snort of amusement. “But I can’t shake her. She’s determined to see the assignment through, for whatever reason.”
“Jones, it’s not about the mission,” Ribs exclaimed.
“Then what is it about?” Jones asked.
“Your fear. Your absolute terror over the thought of being attracted to Carol, your complete and utter incompetence when it comes to wooing her, and your stubborn refusal to make a move.”
Jones stared at him, perplexed. “Are you…are you giving me love advice?”
“I’m trying,” Ribs said.
“Why?”
“Because you need it. Because I care. Because you’re one of my best friends and I had no idea you were this hopelessly bad at it.”
“Why does it matter? I barely know her. What I do know drives me kind of crazy. She’s temporary, and she has a boyfriend.”
“When’s the last time you met a woman who made you feel the way she makes you feel?” Ribs countered.
“I…” his words trailed helplessly away. Never. The answer was never. No one in his entire life had made him feel the full range of emotions Carol evoked in him. No one as angry, as frustrated, as intrigued, as protective. Surely that wasn’t love, though. “I just met her,” he said weakly.
“Sometimes, Jones, that’s all it takes. Sometimes you can glimpse a woman in a window for five seconds and spend the rest of your life loving only her.”
He sounded so certain, and so…haunted. “Gaines, are you okay?”
The use of his given name made him snap back into focus with a little shake of his head. “What? Yes, obviously. This isn’t about me, it’s about you. All I’m saying is to be open to the possibility of something more, even if it makes no sense on paper. And for the love of all that is good, man, make a move. I’m not certain how clearer Carol could be with her signals. Five more minutes and I was about to kiss her.”
“You think she wants me to make a move?” Jones choked.
“She couldn’t be any clearer if she wrote it with sparklers and hired a skywriter.”
“That would be less clear, actually,” Jones said vaguely. Did Carol actually want something to happen between them? “What about the boyfriend?”
“That’s probably a question for Carol instead of me,” Ribs said.
“I thought you were the one with all the answers,” Jones said.
“Jonesie, I have nothing but hopes and dreams for your happiness, man.” He thumped his fist over his heart a couple of times.
“I’ll think about it,” Jones replied.
“Two more words and then I’m done: carpe diem.”
It wasn’t seizing the moment Jones feared, it was the three words that usually came after: crash and burn. In Jones’s experience guys like Ribs could get away with the big moments, the brave stunts and grand romantic gestures. They never seemed to work out for guys like Jones, fading instead to unending awkwardness. Although with Carol there would be no lingering awkwardness because she was going away. What do I have to lose? Or perhaps a better question, what do I have to gain?