Chapter 3
“ S o you’re actually a…” Maggie stood beside the table, unable to finish the sentence. She had shown up early to the coffee shop, but Cameron Ridge was already there.
“A spy? Yes,” he said.
“Are you allowed to say that?” she asked.
“It’s all right, I’m going to self-destruct in five seconds,” he said.
She was in too much shock to laugh. She sank into the chair across from him. “Tell me again why you want a reference librarian on your team.”
“People have this misconception about the intelligence community, that we’re TV characters who constantly have to defuse bombs. The truth is that about 95 percent of our work is gathering and compiling information.”
“That does sound up my alley,” she agreed.
“Your training as a librarian makes you an asset. But your knowledge of the Middle East and ability to speak Arabic make you invaluable. You had to know you’ve been on our radar for some time.”
“I get excited if more than ten people on social media remember my birthday, and you’re telling me I’ve been on the spy network’s radar?” she said, aghast.
He nodded.
“Where would I work?” she asked.
“Washington, DC.”
She winced. Currently she lived in Washington State in a small college town whose main industry was cherry orchards. Could she give that up for the hustle and bustle of the capitol? “ Let me make sure I understand what you’re saying: I say yes to you, move to DC, and, just like that, I’m a spy?”
“Not quite. You’d have to train at Quantico.”
“You said you’re not FBI.”
“We’re under the same umbrella and we share training,” he said.
“What’s the training like?”
“Twenty weeks, part classroom, part physical.”
She squirmed. “How physical?”
“Running, climbing, pushups, sit ups, hand-to-hand combat. And we’ll teach you how to handle a gun.”
“See, this is the awkward part of things for me. It’s all well and good when we’re talking academics and research. But physical fitness is a whole other can of worms. If my high school had observed senior superlatives, I would have been voted most likely to fall down a flight of stairs while eating a caramel apple. Because that actually happened to me once. And now you’re telling me I have to become Chuck Norris.”
“Not Chuck Norris. Just not Chuck E. Cheese,” he said. “It’s a requirement for everyone, but not because you’re going to be in the field using the skills you’ll be learning. Think of it as basic training.”
“The job sounds intriguing, Mr. Ridge.”
“There’s no mister. It’s either Ridge or Cam,” he interjected.
“I know I can do what you want and be good at it. But the sad truth is that I’m pathetically out of shape, unless you consider round a shape. I have never successfully run a mile, done a pushup, sit up, or pull up. And rope climbing? They had to put up a special net to catch me.”
“Those things are a matter of will,” he said.
“Says the Adonis with abs that can crush walnuts,” she said, and he laughed .
“Maggie, what it comes down to is wanting. If you want to do it badly enough, you’ll find a way. Ask a fit friend to train you or hire a personal trainer. You don’t have to run a marathon; you only have to run a couple of miles.”
“What if I try and I fail?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Then you fail. You wouldn’t be the first. There are no guarantees.”
“You’re suggesting I give up my job, house, friends, town, and even my dog temporarily, and for what? The off chance I might be able to pass training that right now seems completely impossible? What if I hate it?”
“What if you love it?” he said softly, and Maggie’s heart started to thunder. All at once she knew she was going to give up everything and take a chance on an adventure she didn’t know she’d been missing.
“Yes,” she whispered and mashed both of her hands over her mouth.
He smiled a cocksure smile that said he knew she would cave. Maggie took a moment to swallow down the bile that had risen to the back of her throat. Had she really committed to such a crazy prospect? She couldn’t think about it now or she might genuinely flip out. Her mind flailed about for a subject change.
“What part of Texas are you from, Ridge?” she asked.
He froze. “How did you know I’m from Texas?” He had worked hard to eradicate his accent, if only to protect his family back home. The more of a bland everyman he became, the better for all involved.
“Lucky guess,” she said. He carried himself like a Texan, as if he still had Manifest Destiny flowing through his veins. And then there were his manners. She’d heard him call more than one woman ma’am, and he had held every door for her. And there was the way he kept twisting his right ring finger. “Are you missing your Aggie ring?”
“Now that’s spooky,” he said, a hint of a twang creeping back into his words. “What else can you tell me about myself?”
She studied him intently a moment before speaking again. “You wear reflective aviator shades because you want to read people without them reading you. You’re former military, probably something elite like a ranger or SEAL, and you still order your life as such. You only date women who have reached a certain level of physical perfection, but then feel perpetually disappointed when the rest of them is lacking. You’re a youngest child and there’s a large age gap, probably at least six years. And right now you’re craving Mexican food.”
It took a lot to shock him, but Cameron Ridge was shocked. “Everything was exactly spot on. Are you a profiler in your spare time? How did you do that?”
She tapped her temple, pleased with his praise. “Intuition. Except the Mexican food thing. You probably smell the restaurant next door and it’s making you hungry.”
“True. Let’s go next door and get lunch. I’ll answer any questions you might have.”
“Why are so many stupid people famous?” she asked.
“Questions about the job,” he clarified, though he was relieved to see she was regaining her equilibrium. He placed his hand on the small of her back and used it to usher her out of the coffee shop and into the restaurant next door, holding the doors for her each time. When they walked in, several female heads turned to look at them, first Ridge, with his astounding good looks, and then Maggie. She could practically hear what they were thinking. She must be his cousin; there’s no way they’re together. She felt like grabbing a microphone and assuring everyone she knew he was out of her league and she had no interest in him anyway.
They were seated quickly. She picked up a menu, set it down, and picked it up again but it was hard to concentrate when her brain was abuzz.
“I guess you’re kind of my boss now,” she said.
“It’s not official yet,” he said. “Besides, I’m not exactly your boss. We’re part of the same team and will report to the same person.”
“But you’re in charge,” she said.
“Kind of. I’ll be doing the legwork, and you’ll be my support,” he said.
“Like a girdle,” she added and he choked on a sip of water.
Ridge intended to spend the time talking about work, but somehow they never got around to it. Instead conversation varied from books to movies to college to—briefly—his time in the military. If he were being honest, he would admit it was the most fun he’d had in ages, and he liked Maggie. A lot. There was no pretense with her, and it had been a long time since he felt such an instant connection with anyone, male or female. He had become so accustomed to the fast-paced, intense world of government espionage that he had forgotten what it was like to be with someone real, someone untouched by the things he knew and saw. There was a part of him that was tempted to un-invite her to Washington because he didn’t want her fresh-faced innocence to change or go away. Though not his type, she was the kind of woman who, if he had more brothers, would make him attempt to play matchmaker.
When they could linger over lunch no longer, they eventually wandered back to the coffee shop for drinks and, to Maggie’s delight, another tray of cookies. Finally when Ridge could no longer hold off the inevitability of his return flight he walked her to her car. They paused and faced each other.
“Thank you for lunch and yet another bag of cookies,” she said, holding the bag aloft.
“Technically it goes on my expense account, but you’re welcome.”
“I should have held out for a pony,” she said, causing him to laugh again. His cheeks were beginning to hurt from so much unusual repetitive motion. “Can I tell you something and not have you take it the wrong way?”
“Try,” he said, feeling a bit wary now.
“You’re the kind of man a lot of women hit on, so I want to be clear this isn’t what I’m doing. But it feels like I’ve known you longer than a few days, and I like you. You’re a good guy.”
“Thank you.”
“But wait, there’s more. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I have the feeling it’s going to be life changing.”
“Hopefully in a good way,” he said.
“Fingers crossed.”
They stood smiling at each other. The moment stretched and began to feel awkward as neither knew how to make a polite escape. If it were a date, they would kiss goodbye. But it wasn’t a date, they were both clear on that. At last Maggie opened her arms and hugged him. It was probably not the best way to say goodbye to one’s new boss, but it was heartfelt, and she hoped that would convey.
It did, and Ridge returned her hug, giving her an enveloping embrace of his own.
“See you in six months,” she said. “I hope.”
“See you in six months, for sure.” He pulled back and looked her in the eye. “You can do this, Maggie. If I didn’t have full confidence, I wouldn’t have hired you. ”
She nodded. “I’ll give it my all, Boss.” After hailing him a little three-fingered salute, she got in her car and drove away. For the second time, Ridge stood in the street and watched her drive off, a feeling of warmth spreading through him. Being near Maggie felt like coming home, and he had no desire to stop and analyze why.