Chapter Thirty-Four
“I don’t know why I pictured a state-of-the-art office building made of glass and steel.” Hagan pulled their suitcases through the door that Amanda held open. “Cameras following our every move, taking our temperatures and respiration.”
She laughed for the first time in hours. “Your only points of reference are Hollywood blockbusters and Titan’s real estate portfolio.”
“True.” Except he was only aware of the Abu Dhabi buildings and the headquarters in Virginia. Hagan didn’t put it beyond Jared to own safehouses across the globe. What else would a real estate portfolio include?
They walked into a generic office built sometime in the seventies when architectural influencers had somehow convinced builders to erect windowless concrete monstrosities. If Hagan had to wager, he’d guess that the overhead fluorescent lights had been there since the original construction.
“We like to call her old Bertha.”
“Her, who?” The worn linoleum floor matched the baby-shit green wall color. “The building?”
Amanda stopped at the first office door they came to. “Yup.”
“Bertha the building.” He wanted to laugh but decided Bertha suited the place. Unflappable. Unmovable. That sounded like a Bertha, and Bertha would give zero fucks about the color of her walls. If someone didn’t like it, Bertha didn’t care. “Bertha’s kinda badass.”
Amanda placed her palm against a nondescript sensor, then turned the handle. “She’s pretty techy, too.”
They stepped into a small alcove with far better lighting. The entry door shut and caged them in the tight space. “Nice and cozy.”
Amanda entered a code on a number pad and leaned in for a biometrical face scan. The door released with a swoosh. They walked into a sleek reception area several degrees cooler than the outer access point. A receptionist’s desk sat empty and seemingly unused.
Hagan walked the room. “This is more like I had in mind.”
She tapped her finger to her chin. “Didn’t you once ask about a tour?”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “Think I did.” Something other than their problem in the elevator had been distracting Amanda. But with her last few quips, he hoped that she’d let it go. He needed her smile. “Are you my tour guide?”
She pointed to the empty desk. “This is the front of our office.”
He leaned against the wall. “Very official looking.”
“It’s never used. Completely for show.”
“I see.” He stroked his chin and tried out a Sherlock Holmes face. “Making the company look totally benign and legit.”
She grinned. “We can leave the suitcases here.”
Hagan dropped them by the desk and followed.
They passed another security checkpoint and moved into a hub of operations.
Several people had their heads buried in cubicles, not glancing up.
Amanda led Hagan to a circular room lined with screens.
A central desk served multiple purposes, and a man sat on a backless rolling chair, tapping a pencil on a notepad as he talked to himself.
Amanda caught the man’s attention. “I’m back.”
He pulled buds from his ears, offering a genuine smile. “I didn’t know you’d be here so early—” The man locked on Hagan. “You brought home a souvenir.”
“I did.” She smiled and made introductions. “Shah, Hagan. Hagan, Shah.”
They shook hands. Hagan would have been more comfortable if they could exchange nicknames or call signs, or even if they went only by last names.
Amanda pressed on with the tour. “Let’s go this way.” She led them to a far door.
Hagan found himself in the first hallway that they’d started in.
At least, it looked the same. He had a feeling that nothing was as it seemed.
They crossed to an unassuming door he’d have guessed a janitorial closet, but Hagan stepped into a dark room lit only with LED lights along the baseboards and computer screens.
“Our office,” Amanda said.
A woman leaned over a large table and scrutinized architectural plans. She held up a hand, warning them not to talk, then circled part of the diagram and turned. “You’re here?”
“Hello to you, too.” Amanda sat on the edge of a desk, offering the same style of introductions with Halle.
Exchanging pleasantries with Halle had made Hagan’s conversation with Shah feel like chatting with teammates over a beer. If Amanda had rules and secrets, Halle had ultimatums and inquisitions.
By the end of the conversation, Hagan had learned that Halle had thought he was “smaller like Shah” and that Amanda’s loose hair was so wild that, “the next thing, you’ll be wearing short skirts.”
Amanda jabbed back, but the tension lingered. “Let’s debrief. I’m exhausted.”
Halle called Shah into the room, and they sat at the table.
Amanda gave a rundown of her findings, focusing on the store name and the fact that she couldn’t find anything else that rubbed her the wrong way. Notably, she didn’t mention what sent them hightailing from Lebanon to the US.
Hagan waited until he was sure she’d finished, then crossed his arms. Why had Amanda hidden the crux of the problem?
Halle thought she shouldn’t have left until touching base with the office and confirming that she’d unearthed every possibility. Shah didn’t say much, though he muttered to himself. Deep creases now crossed his forehead, causing Hagan to wonder if he’d been party to clearing the project.
Amanda and Halle spoke over each other, neither grasping the other’s point. Hagan had had enough. “Listen.” Their faces snapped to his. “The assignment could’ve killed Amanda.”
Her eyes rounded. Halle’s narrowed. Shah’s neck nearly snapped when he turned to Amanda.
“Theoretically speaking,” she amended. “Bad intel leaves a body count, and—”
“I’ll figure out what happened,” Shah promised. “And I agree with Hagan. Walking into a situation blind can be deadly.”
Halle’s nostrils flared as though she wasn’t into the dramatic discussion of what could’ve happened. “But everything was okay?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Hagan rolled his shoulders.
“Yeah.” Halle scrutinized him as if he were the theoretical link that could’ve endangered Amanda.
“Then, I guess that’s settled.” He noticed that neither woman suggested they loop in Boss Man. “Unless you need to ask again.”
Halle turned her ire toward Shah. “Are you hungry?”
“Already ate.”
Hagan wasn’t sure he believed Shah but couldn’t blame the guy.
“Well, I need a break.” Halle crossed her arms and stared like she could make Hagan disappear. “What about you two?”
He and Halle weren’t going to get along. So, he gave her a big grin. “I could always eat.”
“We have to go,” Amanda agreed.
Halle smirked at him. “Pity.”
Halle grabbed her purse, then left, and Amanda grabbed his arm. Shah muttered as he made notes. Hagan wondered what their office rules said about overprotective displays of affection because he wanted to grab his woman and drag her out of this place. Why hadn’t Bertha belched Halle out already?
“I thought you were tough to get to know.” Hagan shook his head. “But Halle’s something else.”
“It takes time for her to warm up,” Amanda said.
“Yeah, but she’s been like that for weeks.” Shah flipped his pen and let it fall. “Something about her boyfriend is sick. I don’t know. You know how she is.”
Amanda sighed. “Like a vault.”
Hagan still couldn’t pinpoint when Amanda had changed.
The taxi pushed through the throng of shoppers and tourists crossing from M Street to Wisconsin.
Hagan hadn’t spent much time in DC but sensed this wasn’t his neighborhood.
The location didn’t strike him as reflective of Amanda.
Part of him wanted to shrug it off, questioning what did he know about her anyway?
She’d transformed into the ice queen he first met somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.
This could just be who she was. But the other part of him shouted for him to look down.
Ice queen or not, she had a death grip on his hand. The woman he’d first met wouldn’t do that, and not for the first time, he understood that he didn’t know nearly enough to make assumptions. “You’re a Georgetown girl?”
“You can turn there,” she directed the driver, then added, “It’s what I know.”
“Did you grow up around here?”
She licked her lip. “Sort of.”
Hagan clamped his jaw and waited. A new nugget of information always followed, but his patience was waning.
The shrouded mystery act had lost its appeal mid-flight.
This was a woman he could fall in love with.
Hell, maybe he had. But Hagan only knew what she allowed.
Did that make a difference? What did it matter where she’d grown up?
It didn’t. Except that it apparently did.
“Where’d you go to school?”
Amanda dug into her purse and removed a rubber band, then tied her hair into a ponytail so tight he was sure it’d hurt. “Washington College.”
Her clammy hand returned to his, and she closed her eyes. “Do you get car sick?”
“No.”
“I grew up in Florida. Near Alabama. We lived in a beach house on Perdido Bay.” The past trembled in her voice. Slowly, she opened her eyes. “I thought I was a mermaid until second grade.”
Hagan rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and tried to imagine a carefree Amanda as a kid who believed in magic and fairytales. “What happened?”
“My mom’s a science professor.” She laughed, and whatever memory had crossed her mind allowed for a smile to warm her face. “She’d only let that go on for so long before explaining DNA.”
Hagan chuckled. “Fish and people don’t mix.”
“That, and she sprung the birds and the bees on me around the same time.”
“My mom and dad couldn’t keep their hands off each other.” Hagan squinted and made a face. “And my brother was way older than me. He gave me the rundown. Not scientific in any way.”
Her grip relaxed, then Amanda leaned forward. “There’s an alley at the end of the block. You can drop us off there. It’ll give you an easier way to avoid one-way streets.”
The driver thanked them and eased off the gas.
“I grew up in Kentucky,” he volunteered.
She didn’t balk.
“Louisville,” he continued.
Amanda settled against him. “I’ve heard that’s a magical place.”