One thing I’ve got going for me, I look fucking good in a tux. I’ll look even better with Bella by my side.
I take my cell, hold it flat against my chest, and look at the tailor through the mirror. “It’s perfect. Can you have it ready by Friday?”
He nods and moves behind me to slip the pin-filled jacket down my arms. “You paid the rushed fee. It’ll be ready.”
“Perfect.” I put the phone back to my ear as I step into the dressing room. “Nick, I have my shit together but from the sound of it, you may not. We both know the work I coordinate cannot be rushed. And as far as having someone breathing down your neck? Well, I’ve learned how to work through it. So can you. From my experience, I suggest you smile, choke down that pride of yours, and move on. There are some things in life that are out of our control.”
“Damn you, Carson. If you can’t get this done, I’ll do it myself.”
“You know you couldn’t get it done even if you wanted to.” I unbutton my trousers. “I’ve spent years gaining the trust of my contractors and they are not going to rush a job for any deadline. They have more money than most people have sense and could stop working yesterday to live fat, dumb, and happy. Be patient.”
“I’ll write you up for insubordination faster than you can blink,” he threatens.
He has no leg to stand on and he knows it. What, is he going to put a letter in my file stating I’m dragging my feet on carrying out an order to kill an American veteran? “Do it and we’ll see what happens.”
“Don’t push me, Carson.”
“I’m not pushing anyone. I’m doing my job, Nick, and I’m killing it as far as I can see. No pun intended.”
“Dammit.” His exhale hisses through the phone with sounds of honking and traffic acting as his backup band. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can. There had better be progress in the next two days.”
“Do what you’ve got to do. See you when you get back from wherever you are.” I hang up, exit the dressing room, take the paperwork from the tailor, and head out.
The big event is Saturday night, which is also the two-week mark of Bella living under my roof. Not going to lie, when I threw down the one-month gauntlet with Bella, I thought I’d be farther along by now. Good news is, things have gotten to the point where she, Red, and Abbott coexist with little angst while I’m at work.
I know she’s still recovering, but hell, we haven’t done any more than sleep pressed against each other at night. I told her I’m not kissing her until she wants it and she’s holding out on me—white-knuckling her convictions like a devout nun would her vow.
My other phone rings and I answer it immediately. “Asa. What’s up?”
He laughs. “You sure can wind up your boss.”
“You enjoyed that, huh? He’s a tool. What else do you have for me? Who’s pressuring him?”
“I’ve listened in on every call since we got his personal cell tapped. What do you know about his direct-line supervisor?”
I walk to the end of the block and wait for the light to change. “Not a lot, she came from the field. Her name is Wendy Sisson and she was promoted a while ago. She doesn’t mingle with case officers. I’m too busy to keep tabs on one more person right now.”
“Since I usually rely on you to pull files for me, I had to get creative. I did some digging, found a copy of her application to the Agency two decades ago. She was hired right out of college as an analyst and pretty boring until recently. I had to dig even deeper.”
I throw on my aviators as I cross the street to my car. “I don’t want to know who you’re getting your information from. Please keep me out of it so if this goes to shit I can answer honestly on a polygraph.”
“I wouldn’t give up my source anyway, but you’ve got it. About four years ago she started attending a new … shit, I don’t even know what to call it. On the outside it looks like a church but once I learned more, it’s fucked up.”
I beep my locks and climb in my truck. “Fucked up how?”