curves of Cliff Drive and passing by houses decorated for the holidays, she let the Christmas spirit invade her. It had been more than ten years since she had left her parents’ home, and she had never looked back. She couldn’t look back, even if she wanted to. Many Christmases had been lonely and sad since that day in her past, but not anymore. She had a new family now.
Pulling up in front of Tom’s perfectly landscaped front yard, she noticed a black Bentley stopped along the curb. Oh shit, the client is here already, she thought. Sucks to be late. She entered through the side gate, going straight for the backyard.
“There she is.” Steve cheered, raising his beer bottle to greet her.
“Women love to make an entrance,” Richard announced humorously. He gave her a hug, clumsily, so he wouldn’t disturb Little Tom, hanging around his neck. Alex wondered how this relationship had started. Little Tom, the resident Siamese cat, had eyes for no one else but his owner, Tom Isaac. Yet, whenever Richard was around, the cat jumped and wrapped himself around Richard’s neck like a scarf, letting his paws hang loose on both sides. Looking at the two of them, Alex couldn’t decide which one of them enjoyed the relationship more. Richard Fergusson, financial and business genius, was a key asset to The Agency. He stepped in whenever clients needed a strong hand taking over on an interim basis. He was comfortable leading in any C-suite role, and still looked classy and distinguished while wearing a Siamese cat around his neck, on top of his Versace Collection suit. As for Little Tom’s choice of venue, that remained a mystery. Maybe Richard is wearing catnip cologne, Alex thought with a silent giggle.
“Hello, dear.” Claire Isaac gave her a warm hug. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Claire. Are you having a good time with this invasion?” Alex pointed towards the rest of the guests, scattered in the Christmas lit backyard. Most of them had gathered around the barbecue, where Tom was making large gestures with his tongs, generating waves of laughter. It was a rare occasion to see everyone assembled. It had to be Christmas, or the end of a client engagement. Today it was both.
“Loving every minute,” Claire said and then took a sip from her drink, a tall glass filled with a clear liquid, small ice cubes, and herbs.
“What is that you’re drinking? Always wanted to ask.”
“It’s an angry mojito, dear,” Claire said with amusement.
“Why would a mojito be angry?”
“’Cause it doesn’t have anything sweet in it. It’s just Bacardi, mint leaves, lime juice, Pellegrino water, and ice.”
“Interesting,” Alex said.
“Would you like to try one?” Claire offered.
“I’ll stick to Martinis for now, but later,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper, “after the client leaves, I’ll take you up on that offer.”
“Deal,” Claire said, wrapping her arm around Alex’s shoulders and giving her a quick side hug.
Alex relished Claire’s affection. As the only girl on the team, she had sought Claire’s advice many times. Her balanced manner, resourcefulness, and wisdom had helped guide Alex’s development from the young, ambitious, and vulnerable kid who had taken a dangerous job just a year before into the driven investigator she had become.
Alex continued her greetings with Steve. Steve was leaning back against a retaining wall and holding a beer bottle with one hand and a cigar with another; his demeanor reflected calm and satisfied accomplishment. A feeling they were all sharing, except maybe for the calm part. Alex felt more enthusiastic, more energetically satisfied with their latest accomplishment, rather than calm. Steve Mercer, however, a veteran with The Agency and a psychologist, would definitely be the one to remain calm about things, no matter how things evolved. He helped everyone on the team understand motivations and analyze social and organizational processes that broke within organizations. Steve was their profiler, predicting behaviors and narrowing down lists of potential suspects. Steve was also the one who assisted their clients through the stressful, many times afflictive, unfolding of events that usually followed most of their deployments. Alex had Steve’s number on speed dial; he was her closest friend, the first to become her friend when she had joined the team.
“Hey,” Steve said, giving her a quick hug.
Alex blushed slightly. Their relationship could have been more. She had wanted it to become more, but she had withdrawn, afraid to ruin their friendship and impact their work together. It was complicated.