I almost choke over Anna saying the word “fuck,” because it’s so un-Anna-like. Pulling back against her hold, I settle down into the chair once more. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” she demands.
“Because I’m leaving for Ft. Bragg tomorrow on a training mission. There is absolutely no way I can tell her something like this and then leave. If I do that, she’ll be in the wind. She’ll leave my ass so fast.”
Anna makes an exasperated sound. “You can’t continue to lie.”
“Well, no shit, Sherlock,” I say, my voice getting way too loud as I sit up straight in the chair. I spread my arms, a sign I’m repentant but stuck with bad timing right now. “But I need some time and a well-thought-out speech to lay this on her. I’m thinking maybe I can kidnap her, take her somewhere she can’t leave, and force her to love me for who I am.”
For a moment, it looks like Anna considers this to be wise, then her expression cracks and she busts out laughing. It pisses me off, which she can clearly see, and it just makes her laugh all the more.
“You’re not being a good friend,” I mutter.
She snorts, but then manages to get herself under control. Anna smiles. For the first time, she gives me a little empathy. “You’re in a pickle, and I’ll help you figure it out.”
Something loosens in my chest, and just her promise to help has me feeling better. “Thanks.”
“Where does she think you’re going tomorrow?”
“A car auction in Georgia,” I reply.
“And you get back when?”
“Friday.”
Give or take a few days. Fuck, I hope I’m back by Friday.
Anna starts throwing things at me—I need to take her out to a romantic dinner, bring her flowers, and the such. Setting the mood, I guess. “Then you just sit her down, tell her you’ve been hiding something from her, and you need to come clean,” Anna advises.
“Am I telling her the truth, truth?”
Anna looks at me like I’m a dumbass. “I don’t even know what that means, but yes, you are telling her the absolute truth. Don’t hold a single thing back, including your idiotic reasoning for doing it. But then you also tell her the truth of how you feel about her, and that you want to be married to her because you love her.”
“She’ll hate me,” I maintain. I just know this won’t go well.
“Then if she does, she’s not meant for you. I’d hope she’d still love you despite you being a dumbass. If she’s as great as you’re always saying she is, then she’s going to be pissed, but she’s going to forgive you.”
Jaime is so fucking great. That’s a good point. “You think so?”
“Hey… bonus is that you actually have a really cool and sexy job. My theory is if she loves you as a car salesman, she’ll love that you’re a high-speed security agent.”
For the first time since walking into Anna’s office, I give a genuine laugh. Because as dire as this situation is, there’s just as good a chance she might be charmed by it.
♦
My talk with Anna veered off the path of my problems with Jaime right into her own issues. Maybe because I’ve let her in on my secret with my new wife, she felt compelled to admit that she and Malik are seeing each other.
Yeah… I was shocked at first because while I knew they were becoming friends, I sort of thought there was an unwritten rule Anna would be off-limits to any man here at Jameson. Her husband was one of us, and he died in the line of duty.
Anna disabused me of that notion. As I left her office a bit later, I was actually walking with some pep in my step, happy she was happy.
Happy Malik was apparently happy.
They are two people who have dealt with death and torment over these last six months, and they deserve to have happiness.
I head over to Kynan’s office, just two doors down from Anna’s. Except his is spacious, as it should be for the owner of this company.
When I walk in, he asks, “Did you get the file on the Colombia mission?”
I had indeed. He’d emailed it before I even left Vegas, and I read it on the plane while Jaime slept. “I did, and I know it front and back. I’ll be ready for our meeting today.”
“Good,” he replies, bending his head back over his work. When I don’t leave, but don’t say anything either, it lifts