Chapter 29
Gabby woke up before Markus. In the light of a new day, her uncertainty was gone. She’d had a decent amount of sleep, a satisfying cuddle, and was ready to Be More, Do More her way out of this mess. No one was going to save Gabby’s ass but Gabby, so she might as well get to it.
The Top Gun action hero always went rogue and got fired until they saved the day, and the boss saw how great they were and begged them to come back. When she thought about it, she was just following the script. Lose big. Win big. Get hired back.
She buzzed Geeves for coffee and breakfast because, if you have a butler, you should use him.
“Markus.” She walked back into the bedroom with a cup of coffee for him. “Are you ready to save the day?”
He rolled in her direction without sitting up. In a tired voice, he said, “Gabby, we’re government employees.”
“Not anymore,” she reminded him cheerfully. “It’s time to get up and action hero our way back into your ex-wife’s good graces and catch us some bad guys.” Her voice crackled with a little too much energy, like she’d finally accessed her Inner-G and added caffeine.
Markus gave a muffled laugh but sat up enough to accept the coffee.
After she’d chugged three G-shots and wolfed down some sort of high-protein, raw, vegan something or other, she gave Markus a salute because that’s how keyed up she was. Risking prison to save their jobs and the mission was hitting her harder than a couple of lines of coke, energy-wise.
“I’m off to plan our wedding,” Gabby announced. Talking too fast, she said, “See you in… When will I see you next?”
“I haven’t checked the schedule, but uh, Gabby, we’re supposed to stay in the room and keep a low profile.”
“I thought we were going to finish the mission—” She let the sentence hang.
He took a sip of coffee. “We can keep our ear to the ground, but I don’t want to do anything that could be interpreted as espionage and get ourselves arrested.
We are civilians and do not have the authorization or backing of the United States government to do anything that might be interpreted as espionage.
Do you want to be charged with violating the Espionage Act? ”
Gabby frowned.
“Do you want to end up in a Portuguese prison, Gabs?”
“No, but…”
He exhaled a frustrated breath. “Can we keep it light at least?”
She nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
Markus was right, but in some ways, the mess she was in today was easier than a regular day.
No one had to go to the dentist, the kids didn’t have a day off from school on a day she still had work, there wasn’t a science fair, and she didn’t have to cook or clean anything.
The toilet wasn’t clogged. Even if it was, she could call Geeves.
This is probably what it felt like to have a wife.
Gabby had this mission in the bag, even if she was trying to do it on the down-low.
Partway to Naomi’s office, a male voice (Phil?) yelled her name. Her real name. Damn it. She was going to strangle that man.
“Gabby!” he yelled again.
Gabby looked frantically around to make sure no one else had heard and saw… “Justin!”
He was running across the sand like she was water in the desert or like she was his long-lost lover returned from war.
She ran toward him with her arms open. “Justin!”
He wrapped her in a huge hug and then leaned back and said, “Bitch, what is this I hear about you getting married?”
Gabby gave him a you-know-better-than-to-ask look. “Justin, I didn’t think I had to tell you this is an EOD thing.”
“Okay, great.” He swiped his hand across his forehead in relief. “I figured, but you never know.”
“If you knew, then why are you part of this weird family drama to rescue me from my own bad decisions?”
With a sly smile, he said, “How else was I going to get Hugh to go to the Azores with me?” Hugh was standing on the sensible part of the beach where your feet didn’t sink, and you could still walk around without filling your shoes with sand.
Gabby sighed. She saw his point.
“And there was no stopping this family intervention. Phil—” He shook his head in despair. “That man was throwing such a bitch fit when he found out you were in the Azores getting married to Mr. Hottie. I could hear him from my patio.”
Phil. Maybe she should feed him to the sharks.
“Justin, this is serious. Someone tried to kill”—she looked around for potential eavesdroppers before whispering—“Sheridan Lane.”
Justin gasped dramatically and held his hand to his heart. “Not the Sheridan Lane.”
“That’s her.”
He squared his shoulders and adjusted his beach bag. “Consider me on the case. I love that woman with my whole being. She is the reason that I married Hugh.”
“What?”
“A column she wrote in InStyle ten years ago about trying new things. I was reading it at this nerdy book café when Hugh walked in. I’d never seen anyone who was less my type, and I was like—‘You know, Sheridan, maybe I will try new things.’ And here we are today, nine years happily married.”
Hugh looked like he was starting to burn. He didn’t have an easy complexion for the outdoors.
“Have you checked into a room yet?” Gabby asked.
“Yes, it’s gorgeous. I’m going to have to send the CIA a thank-you note.”
“It’s the EOD. We’re an elite division.”
“Whatever. Send them my regards. The room is very nice. Where are we going now?”
“I have to work on wedding planning,” Gabby said. “My wedding is supposed to be in two days.”
“Well, that isn’t much time, even for a fake wedding. Or is it real?” he asked as they walked toward Hugh. “If it’s real, I’m also into it. I mean—” He fanned his face.
“It’s fake. Markus and I are… I don’t know what we are. We—you know.” Gabby gave Justin a look that explained everything. “But now, you know?” She shrugged and sighed.
“Girl.” He shook his head.
Hugh squinted at them. “What happened?”
Justin waved off the question. “I’ll fill you in later, baby.”
“Well, let’s go plan this thing.” Justin scanned the area, probably trying to gather his bearings.
“The people here are already planning it.”
“Were planning it, you mean. There is no way I’m going to not plan your wedding. How many times is my best friend getting married?”
“This makes the second time, and it’s only pretend, so three times easy.”
Justin poo-pooed her statement with a wave of his hand. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from planning this party. Where are we at with flowers, food—” Crescendo-ing with drama, he said, “the dress.”
“Well, Lana Hunt is here, so she is flying out one of her Huntress dresses from Lisbon.”
“Really?” He grimaced. “Are you sure about that choice?”
“What? I thought you’d be excited.” How could a man who name-dropped his picnic table on the regular care about Alphonse de Picnic Table but not Lana Hunt, designer to the stars?
With his nose in the air like he was smelling something bad, he said, “She’s going to have to sell me on it.”
As they approached the resort’s main building, Gabby whispered, “Call me Gia while we’re down here. I’m Gia Glanville, an executive assistant with a couple of kids.”
“They really aren’t challenging you with these covers,” he said. “For once, I’d like to see them give you something like truck driver or burlesque dancer.”
“Justin, stop.”
“No, really. They need to challenge you.”
“I’m not trying to win an Oscar!” Gabby said. “And what is this about Lana Hunt being over? I thought everyone was wearing Cuntress. Huntress, I mean. I keep forgetting the real name.”
“Gabby,” he said, “Cuntress is so last season. She is going to need to step it up for me to agree to it. I’d rather have you get married in a simple cover-up and a bikini.”
“Why is everyone putting me in a bikini?”
“Oh, stop. You’re going to look great. Now, what about venue?”
“Genesis’s yacht, I guess. I haven’t been, but we’re supposed to be all excited that we’re allowed on it.”
Justin leaned back and gave her a firm look. “Okay, that, I’m down with.”
“What is it with everyone and Genesis?”
Jasmine breezed into the room. “Well said, Gia. I’m glad not everyone is swooning over my husband.”
“Don’t worry, I’m swooning over you and your husband.” With a long look, Justin said, “Forgive my honesty, but you are so hot.” He held out his hand. “I’m Justin, by the way.”
“Justin,” Gabby said in a cautionary tone. He needed to take it from a ten to a five.
Ignoring Gabby, he asked, “What’s your secret?”
“Inner Beauty, obviously.”
“The product line or actual inner beauty?”
Gabby waited for Jasmine to kick him out of Inner-G for mouthing off. She hadn’t seen anyone do anything but suck up to Jasmine so far, but Jasmine only raised an eyebrow and answered, “Both.”
She linked arms with Justin and said, “Let’s discuss the ceremony, shall we?” And she walked ahead with Justin, leaving Gabby in their wake. Apparently, Jasmine and Justin were going to plan her wedding.
“What kind of flowers does George like?” Jasmine asked over her shoulder.
“George has never once mentioned flowers.”
“Of course he hasn’t. He is Lil’ G.”
“Gia,” Justin announced, “I am so excited. This is going to be a wedding no one will ever forget.”
Justin had wedding planning in hand, so Gabby decided to check on her prisoners, aka, her mom and Sheridan. Gabby found Elena in the lobby talking loudly on her phone.
“Mom! You’re not supposed to have a phone here!” Gabby glanced around the room frantically. Her mom was going to be the death of her.
Her mom waved that off, “They’re not serious about that one. Come on, everyone at this place kept their phone.”
Come to think of it, her mom might be right about that, but still. “Try to hide it though.”
Elena said, “Do you mind if I call you back? I want to hear the rest of that story, but I can’t focus right now.”
“No problem,” the woman said loudly. “I’m on the couch all day. This ingrown toenail is killing me.”
“Have you soaked it?” Elena asked, suddenly nothing but helpful.
“I think I need it cut out.”
Elena cringed.
“I’ll give you the name of my podiatrist. It’s worth a visit even if you don’t have foot problems. That man is a looker!”
OMG, Mom. Gabby face-palmed.
When Elena hung up, she asked, “What did you need to talk about? Did you call me earlier?”
“What? Of course I didn’t call you. We’re not even supposed to have phones!”
“Oh, I guess it didn’t really sound like you. I’ve never heard you talk about ‘counting your chickens before they hatch.’”
“What?” Was her mom talking in riddles?
“Whoever it was said something like, ‘Saddle up.’ Then the call broke up. I meant to ask you.”
Saddle up—that sounded like Sheridan.
“Does Sheridan have your number?” Gabby asked, on a hunch.
“Oh, you’re right. That does sound like something she would say.”
“Have you been calling each other?”
“Just if I’m out and she needs something.”
Something fishy was going on. Sheridan had told Gabby and Markus her phone was missing.
Why lie about that if she wasn’t hiding something?
The woman could play innocent with the best of them.
At this very moment, she was probably cozying up in her mom’s room, arranging sales to God knows who to besmirch the reputation of President Simon, after pretending to be scared of him.
Gabby had been played. She could feel it.
“Mom, I have to run.” Now that she knew she’d screwed up, all she wanted to do was rewind time, or at least fix it as fast as possible.
Did she and Markus lose their jobs protecting this con artist? Ire rose in her like mercury on a hot day.
“But what did you want to talk about?” her mom asked.
“Just stop using your phone in shared spaces!” Gabby called over her shoulder on the way to have a serious discussion with Sheridan.
Gabby was too keyed up to wait for the elevator, so she hoofed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When no one answered, she keyed into Sheridan’s room. “Hello!”
The room looked the same as earlier, except with some belongings strewn around and the scent of her mom’s perfume, Opium by Yves Saint Laurent, which had always seemed to be a bold choice for a cul-de-sac mom.
No one responded to Gabby’s call, so she scanned the room more thoroughly. Right there on the kitchen counter sat Sheridan’s phone. Unbelievable. At least she hadn’t searched every room at the resort looking for it.
She picked it up. The numeric passkey Sheridan had given her earlier worked just fine.
The messages were pretty innocuous and sparse, so she went to recently dialed numbers.
Her mom’s number was on there. She had called one number over and over again most recently, not her mom.
Gabby didn’t recognize the number, so she hit redial.
With each ring, Gabby tensed. Would it be a newspaper or a reporter?
What would she do when she got them on the phone?
A journalist wouldn’t share any information unless they thought she was Sheridan—protecting sources and all that.
She had found the smoking gun, and she couldn’t flub it. Her strategy: pretend to be Sheridan.
When a woman answered with a “Howdy,” Gabby said, “Morning!” in a slightly rural twang. She cringed at her own bad accent, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.
“I bet you’re calling to check on Leonard.
” Before Gabby could say anything, the woman launched into an explanation of Leonard.
“Oh, I had to pick up another bag of food. They were out of the kind he normally eats, but he seems to be doing okay on this other brand. It’s some sort of primal kitty brand. Has he tried that before?”
“Um…”
Before Gabby could get a word in edgewise, the woman on the phone started in again. “And that darn cat won’t let me cut the poop out of his fur. He’s being a real pickle about that.”
Gabby dropped her face into her hand. Nothing could be further from national security than Leonard’s poopy tail.
To make it sound like the line had gone bad, Gabby pressed “speaker” and held it next to a running faucet. From a distance, she said, “Thanks. That sounds great.”
“I can barely hear you, Sher,” the cat sitter yelled through the line.
“How about now?” Gabby moved farther from the speaker.
“I’m losing you.”
“I’ll try back later,” Gabby said and hung up.
Gabby collapsed on the couch, a little dejected. So much for an easy answer, but at least she hadn’t been duped by Sheridan.
While she caught her breath and tried to figure out her next move, Sheridan came out of the bathroom.
“Agent Greene! I didn’t even hear you come in!”
Gabby looked up.
“How’s everything?” Gabby said. “I dropped by to check on you.”
“I found my phone,” she said.
“Where was it?”
“Agent Parks dropped it by.”
“What?” Gabby had had about enough with Markus and his lying. “Did he say where he found it?”
Sheridan shook her head.
Markus was in hot water.