her side. “What the heck are you doin’ off shift?” This was Lisa Bee’s first time in such a dangerous situation; she normally preferred to stay behind a computer screen. But she recognized that this was a big part of her training, that which would enable her to go further in her field. She had come a long way from being a dorky little sister who only had hopes of entering the family fish business to a savvy computer operative who was the organizer behind a private investigation firm. All the same, she felt great relief at having Jackson’s company. She always felt safe when he was around, and he always made her laugh.
“Well, Material Girl,” Jackson said conspiratorially, “the Boss was discovered in the falafel truck and had to alert the Paris police force. That’s why he’s been off headset. So you might say the eyes of the city are upon us. I figured I’d drink a little Jackie D and operate from here.”
“Shit,” she exclaimed. “Bossman must be pissed. We still a go on all fronts?”
“We’re still a go. I’m keeping ‘the bun’ warm and ready.”
Lisa Bee smiled and poured them both a shot. “Why am I not surprised?”
They both drank the shots, and Lisa Bee refilled their glasses, at which point her eyes caught Jackson’s name tag. “Oh, Jackie! Hugh Jebals? Really?”
His eyes sparkled as he sidled closer to her. “Well,” he said, “it’s very inoffensive when pronounced in a French accent. You don’t pronounce the ‘h’ or the ‘s’ and the ‘j’ is soft, like Zsa Zsa Gabor.”
“And what about if you happen to be doing shots with an American?”
“Oh,” he said, doing his second shot, “then it’s simply accurate.” And with that, he winked and poured them both another drink.
Lisa Bee laughed. “You and your jokes,” she said, hitting him on the arm. “You know sometimes you could just be real.”
His eyes caught hers, and for a brief instant she was alarmed at the vulnerability she saw there. “For you, Bee? All you have to do is ask.”
‡‡‡
THERE WAS A LONG awkward silence after Susannah dropped the bomb on Chas, and she used it to hiccup several more times. Fuck being a lady, fuck it. Here was the man of her dreams and they were on opposite sides and he was fucking someone else. She had nothing to hide, and no reason to pretend. She reached down and unzipped her boots, stretching her toes as her feet touched the cool floor. She yanked her dress up a bit—what little bit it could go—and hoisted herself around to a comfortable position. She poured herself another glass of champagne, letting it bubble up and out of the glass and all over the floor. And she waited. She waited for anything that would make this awful turn of events better.
Chas cleared his throat. He, too, poured a glass of champagne, and gulped it down. Then he looked at Susannah, with both admiration and apology in his eyes. “I’m happy you like the champagne. I chose it especially for you.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about the champagne, asswipe, and I’m drinking it too fast to taste it,” she replied acidly, still waiting for his response. “Want to tell me what the fuck is going on, or do you want me to get up and walk the fuck outta here?”
Chas swallowed thickly and sat down. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Yeah, I do want to tell you what’s up. But I’m scared it’s going to compromise you, and me, and what it is that I’m really doing here. So there’s a lot I really can’t tell you, much as I would like to.”
“Okay,” she said, willing to give an inch, but that was all. “You could start.”
“Well, I’m a bit nervous that I’m being watched. Bugged somehow.”
“What on earth do you mean?” she asked, a bit nervous that she and the others had been caught tailing him.
“I don’t mean your people. I expect they’re here. I mean the men I’m working for.”
Susannah gulped. Of course Chas would expect she’d come with her team—he
“Well, Material Girl,” Jackson said conspiratorially, “the Boss was discovered in the falafel truck and had to alert the Paris police force. That’s why he’s been off headset. So you might say the eyes of the city are upon us. I figured I’d drink a little Jackie D and operate from here.”
“Shit,” she exclaimed. “Bossman must be pissed. We still a go on all fronts?”
“We’re still a go. I’m keeping ‘the bun’ warm and ready.”
Lisa Bee smiled and poured them both a shot. “Why am I not surprised?”
They both drank the shots, and Lisa Bee refilled their glasses, at which point her eyes caught Jackson’s name tag. “Oh, Jackie! Hugh Jebals? Really?”
His eyes sparkled as he sidled closer to her. “Well,” he said, “it’s very inoffensive when pronounced in a French accent. You don’t pronounce the ‘h’ or the ‘s’ and the ‘j’ is soft, like Zsa Zsa Gabor.”
“And what about if you happen to be doing shots with an American?”
“Oh,” he said, doing his second shot, “then it’s simply accurate.” And with that, he winked and poured them both another drink.
Lisa Bee laughed. “You and your jokes,” she said, hitting him on the arm. “You know sometimes you could just be real.”
His eyes caught hers, and for a brief instant she was alarmed at the vulnerability she saw there. “For you, Bee? All you have to do is ask.”
‡‡‡
THERE WAS A LONG awkward silence after Susannah dropped the bomb on Chas, and she used it to hiccup several more times. Fuck being a lady, fuck it. Here was the man of her dreams and they were on opposite sides and he was fucking someone else. She had nothing to hide, and no reason to pretend. She reached down and unzipped her boots, stretching her toes as her feet touched the cool floor. She yanked her dress up a bit—what little bit it could go—and hoisted herself around to a comfortable position. She poured herself another glass of champagne, letting it bubble up and out of the glass and all over the floor. And she waited. She waited for anything that would make this awful turn of events better.
Chas cleared his throat. He, too, poured a glass of champagne, and gulped it down. Then he looked at Susannah, with both admiration and apology in his eyes. “I’m happy you like the champagne. I chose it especially for you.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about the champagne, asswipe, and I’m drinking it too fast to taste it,” she replied acidly, still waiting for his response. “Want to tell me what the fuck is going on, or do you want me to get up and walk the fuck outta here?”
Chas swallowed thickly and sat down. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Yeah, I do want to tell you what’s up. But I’m scared it’s going to compromise you, and me, and what it is that I’m really doing here. So there’s a lot I really can’t tell you, much as I would like to.”
“Okay,” she said, willing to give an inch, but that was all. “You could start.”
“Well, I’m a bit nervous that I’m being watched. Bugged somehow.”
“What on earth do you mean?” she asked, a bit nervous that she and the others had been caught tailing him.
“I don’t mean your people. I expect they’re here. I mean the men I’m working for.”
Susannah gulped. Of course Chas would expect she’d come with her team—he
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