CHAPTER 5 #2
Tae is practicing these weird, lightning-looking sutures on a pink silicone square with a large gash, and Leif is polishing a twenty-inch combat knife.
Like… where the fuck is he even planning to take that?
Are we fighting dinosaurs?
“There he is! The man of the hour, and with our pizza!” Bjorn cheers as he spins in his chair, tossing and catching a baseball in the air.
“You guys need to stop being assholes.” I place the pizza boxes on top of the table and sit down. “Poor guy was stuck for more than forty minutes.”
“Forty minutes?! That’s a new record,” Bjorn claps, impressed.
“No,” Logan scratches his beard, praying for some patience. “No one is betting on delivery drivers. They’re not mice to use and test on.”
“Fine,” Bjorn, Tae, and Knox begrudgingly agree.
“Alright.” The boss takes a piece of pizza and sits back down. “Now that that’s settled and we got our food, let’s get into it. Damián?”
“Yeah…” I mumble… It’s not that I am unsure of the new plan, but I am one hundred percent regretting it, because I know exactly how these assholes are going to react.
Agggh… fuck it.
“So, we have a change of plans regarding the informant,” I say, and take a pizza.
Alexios looks up from his glowing screens. “What kind of change?”
“We can’t be fuckbuddies, because if I want access to the main house and the ledgers, casual sex won’t cut it. Oliver says we need to be in a committed relationship…. So, we are officially boyfriends,” I say it directly and fast.
As fast as humanly possible, hoping maybe they won’t fully process what I just said. But Bjorn immediately bursts into a fit of breathless laughter.
There goes my hope.
The idiot laughs so hard he tips backward, tumbling with his chair to the ground with a loud crash.
“Dami needs to pretend to be in love?” Bjorn says between breaths, still lying on the floor. “This is the greatest day of my life.”
“Shut up, Bjorn.” I push his chair on the floor with my foot.
Ahhgg… I knew this was going to happen.
“We need to make a contingency plan.”
“No, Alexios. I’m not going to fail the mission just because I need to pretend to be someone’s… you know.”
“You can’t even say the word without recoiling,” Knox points out.
“I get it. It is an uncomfortable and unnecessary title,” Tae agrees, and I want to hug that ice-cube of a man.
“I can help you feel connected,” Leif offers, pressing his palms over his chest. “By opening your mind and getting rid of all those walls you’ve built, you can have a very happy love life.”
“Dios mío, Leif. I’m not going to actually date Oliver. We will be faking it. Nothing will be real.”
“Nej. That’s impossible, man,” the stubborn Swedish twin replies. “You can call it fake, but whenever we touch someone, and they touch us, our bodies and souls connect. That won’t ever be fake.”
“Yeah, Dami,” Bjorn says, back on his chair and now grabbing three slices of pizza and stacking them on top of each other like a monstrous sandwich.
“With your track record of having casual hookups get completely obsessed with you, what are you going to do when the mini drug lord falls in love and wants more?”
“First of all, they don’t all obsess,” I say, and the entire table collectively scoffs.
Culeros…
“And second of all…” I continue. “Oliver is a player. Have you seen his intel file? The guy sleeps around with everyone he meets.”
“But you’ll be acting as his boyfriend, Dami. Not a hookup.” Knox points out as he wipes the top of a soda can before opening it.
“So what if we are? That is the beauty of this plan because he’s just as casual as I am. So no matter what kind of sexual or lovie-shit I do with this man, he won’t ever want more.”
Alexios shakes his head, typing on the keyboard. “I still can’t believe you’re going to have a boyfriend,” he says, and I shoot him a glare so intense that I swear I almost conjure a forbidden Spanish curse.
“Fake boyfriend… obviously,” he corrects immediately.
“Stop it with the boyfriend shit,” I sigh, dragging my hands down my face. “I’m still trying to process that stupid title.”
“If it’s any consolation, I believe the change of status makes perfect sense.” Law sets his rifle on the table and walks over to the bar to make himself a tea. “The Wests will be considerably more at ease with your presence, provided you appear committed to their son.”
“I understand the logic,” I grudgingly admit, leaning back in my chair. “But I don’t like it… Almost as much as I don’t like moving apartments and cutting contact with my family.”
“It is for the best, Dami,” says Knox, his fingers scratching his short black hair. “I promise we’ll do our best to finish and get you back home as fast as we can.”
“Thanks…”
“Which brings us to your new life. Everything, from your CIA record, your training, your commendations, even your history with Harknett… It’s all been erased.
But, as requested… ” Alexios spins his monitor around so we can all see the screen.
“Your art dealer cover is officially live, and the Soho penthouse is ready. Bjorn has already installed the cameras and security, and I’ve personally configured your hardware.
As of tomorrow, you cannot return to HQ, and you absolutely cannot visit your family. ”
Ugh. That hurts the most.
I know Alexios will be able to pass messages between us, but I hate going dark on my family for more than a few weeks. And since we are going after Elijah West, I have a sinking feeling this mission is going to take time…
A very long time.
“Thanks,” I say, and take a box with my new IDs, phone, computer, and other things I’ll need.
Logan slides a folded piece of paper across the table. “Also, I need you to pass this to Oliver tonight. It’s a list of suspected shell companies and names that we need him to check, verify if any of those names are working for his dad, and report back.”
“Got it.” I take the paper and put it inside the box.
“So, now that we have all that new info settled and approved, the date tonight is at the Golden Dragon. It’s a Chinese restaurant frequently visited by Elijah’s people.
We’ll be in VIP screen room five.” I turn to Alexios.
“Make sure you hack the security feeds. Keep a camera pointed to the left of the main dining floor, exactly three tables away from the VIP corridor. That’s where Rafael’s guards always sit when Oliver goes there. ”
“Consider it done.”
Law stands up, tosses a ring of keys across the table, and I catch them mid-air. “Keys to the new penthouse, mate. Head over there now, have a scrub, and get yourself sorted. You’ve got a date tonight.”
Yes, I do…
— ¤ —
The second the clock hits eight p.m., I pull up to the curb in my cherry-red Camaro. Oliver is already standing outside his Manhattan family home, and for a split second, my brain completely short-circuits.
Oliver walks out with messy hair, wearing tailored black slacks that cling to his hips, an emerald silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to make anyone with eyes want to see more, and his usual scowl.
He looks so freaking good.
Okay, let’s do this.
Let’s be fake whatevers.
I put the car in park and step out. Oliver’s eyes dart to the Camaro, and his scowl changes to a confused look.
“Where is the bike?”
“I didn’t think you’d feel comfortable pulling up to a five-star restaurant on the back of Chiquita.”
Oliver crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Well, I hope you at least explained to Chiquita why you were going to be later than usual. Since you had a date and all.”
“Oh, she knows. She’s very supportive of my new relationship.” I reach past him and pull the passenger door open, gesturing for him to get in.
Oliver pauses, his light hazel eyes open wide, and a faint pink colors his beautiful cheekbones.
“And here I was, thinking you were a shit boyfriend,” he says, before stepping closer, his shoulder lightly brushing my chest as he turns to climb into the leather seat of my car.
But instead of moving out of the way, I lean down, my mouth hovering mere inches from his ear. “I’ve never been a boyfriend, Oliver… but I have always been a gentleman.”
I press a soft kiss to his cheek and feel the immediate shudder that runs through his body under my lips.
Then, I round the car, get on the driver’s side, and put on my seatbelt.
“Buckle up, baby-boo, we’ve got a date waiting for us.” I grin, pulling back.
The VIP room at the Golden Dragon is pretty secluded, enclosed by traditional sliding rice paper screens that give us some type of privacy from the main floor, but they’re thin enough that they allow us to still enjoy the music and the ambiance from outside.
We sit down, and we are welcomed by a shot of sake.
“Thanks, but I’m driving.” I refuse, but the hostess insists and leaves.
Two minutes later, the waitress arrives with more alcohol.
She opens a champagne bottle and serves us both. I refuse again, but just like the hostess, the waitress smiles and leaves.
“You should just drink them,” Oliver says as he checks the menu.
“I can’t. I am taking you home.”
“I’m pretty sure Rafael doesn’t want you to.” He takes a glass and pushes mine closer to my side. “Just enjoy. I’ll get you an Uber when we leave.”
“How much alcohol are they expecting us to drink?”
“Enough…”
“Fine… Just give me a second.” I stand up, slide the door open, and lock eyes directly with the security camera, pretty sure that will get Alexios’s attention. “Excuse me,” I call out to the first waiter I see.
“Yes, sir?”
I lift both hands, spreading all ten fingers wide, making sure the camera has a clear view. “Can we get ten napkins?” I drop one hand, holding up just five fingers. “Five dumplings.” Finally, I close my hand into a fist and flash five fingers one last time. “And five spring rolls.”
“Right away, sir.”
I thank her and shoot one last glance at the lens, knowing without a doubt that my geeky Greek god just caught the 10-55 code I sent him.
I sit back down, lift my glass, and raise it in a toast. “Cheers! But I’m the one calling the Ubers.”