But though I’m alone in my tiny NYC apartment, I feel like I’m finally making it. Like I’m on the cusp of a big change in my life, and I’m going to grab on to this role with both hands and wring every bit of opportunity from it that I can.
I’m still lying in bed, reflecting on just how far I’ve come, when I hear a firm knock on the door. I give a moment’s thought that maybe my neighbors really are coming over to bitch at me, but then the knocks pound out again.
And I recognize my older sister’s distinct pattern.
Bam, bam, pause two three, bam, bam, bam.
I roll my eyes and laugh at the same rhythm she’s drummed on every door, tabletop, and steering wheel she’s ever been near.
At least she’s consistent, and more than once, I’ve teased her that she must use the same rhythm with her boyfriends.
I open the door, leaning against the frame, “Hey, Sis. You know, I was hoping you were Theo James, come to ravish me and give my loud neighbors something to really aspire to noise-wise.”
She smiles, but it’s not her usual wide grin, and she quickly looks left and right, scoping out my hallway like the boogeyman is gonna jump out at her.
It’s then that I notice how she’s dressed.
Blue jeans, a generic white tee, and a red ball cap pulled down low over her face. And though I can’t see her expression since she’s dropped her head again, I can read her energy that something is wrong.
Claire pushes past me into the apartment, watching as I close and lock the door behind me. But she comes back to peek out the peephole.
She still hasn’t said a word, so I try again. “Uh, hi?” I offer, not sure what’s going on.
Claire is an FBI agent, but she’s always compartmentalized to the extreme so I tend to forget what she does.
Okay, not really forget, but push it to the back of my mind so I don’t worry myself crazy over what her not-at-all 8-to-5 gig happens to be and how dangerous it is.
Finally, she lifts her face fully to me and I can see the fury in her eyes.
“We need to talk. I need a favor, Sis.”
Chapter 3
Emma
“Say that again? You want me to do what?” I ask incredulously, sinking down to a chair at my tiny kitchen table.
I knew Claire was in trouble, but what she’s asking isn’t just out there, it’s Nucking-Futs.
She grabs my hand, squeezing it. “I know, Emma. Trust me, if I had any other way, I wouldn’t ask this of you. But something is up at the office. I don’t know what yet, but I need this intel and I got denied at work. You know I’m a rule follower, black and white, right and wrong to the ninth degree. But I’ve thought this through more times than you can imagine and this is the only way.”
“Okay, speak slowly. Tell me what you want me to do again,” I say, humoring her though the refusal is on the tip of my tongue.
“There’s a guy, Nathan Stone. He’s a big shot in the gem industry, but we strongly suspect he’s got some under the table dealings that aren’t quite so legal. He’s meeting with a Russian crime lord, Nikolai Romanov. In fact, he’s throwing him a party. Stone’s really rolling out the red carpet for Romanov, and I need to know why. This party is a perfect opportunity to get some information because Stone is notorious for keeping a small circle, and even then, he doesn’t share intel with them. The only one who knows all his dirty secrets is his brother, and he’d never say a bad word about Nathan.”
Her explanation sounds more like a movie plot than real life, but I guess it is her life.
I’m probably a wuss because my next thought is Better her than me, but then I’m reminded that she wants to throw me into this mess.
She’s my big sis and one of the most awesome agents I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve seen many, but this has got to be some sort of sick prank.
Otherwise, she’s lost her damn mind.
I give her the stink eye, challenging, “So, two big bad guys are having a meet and greet, and you want me to go waltzing in like Hostess Holly and start asking questions?”
When she doesn’t disagree with my assessment of her crazy idea, I