and shoes. When I looked up, Jane was smiling. “Do you have something in mind?”
“I do. Can you cover for me Sunday?”
Today was Monday and the upcoming weekend was my first full weekend off in a month. I had from clock-out on Friday to clock-in on Monday free to do whatever I wanted. However, as I looked at my friend, I was well aware that my engagement schedule wasn’t exactly full. “Sure. What time on Sunday?”
“I’m scheduled at seven.”
I internally groaned. The seven to three was my least favorite shift. I remembered the shoes. “I’ll be here.”
“Thank you, Lorna, you’re the best.”
As we were about to leave the room, my phone rang.
“Hey, if that’s some gorgeous guy wanting to take you away this weekend, tell him you got to be back Sunday morning.”
“Right.” I looked at the screen. “It’s just my brother.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ve seen him. He’s fine.”
“Eww. He’s my brother.”
I tapped the green icon. “Hi, Mace. I’m at work. What’s up?”
3
Sitting across the table from Mason at the hole-in-the-wall diner down the street from work, I considered Jane’s evaluation of my brother. She was right. He was a fine-looking man with all the qualities women sought: broad shoulders, a toned abdomen—hell, he was all toned. While he’d worked out from a young age, keeping himself in shape and ready to beat the shit out of any of Mom’s boyfriends—or let’s be honest, johns—who took a shine to me, the military and whatever he’s doing now have worked together to fine-tune what he began a long time ago. His dark blond hair was high and tight, another aftereffect of the Special Forces. But his eyes were the same green, the green I saw in the mirror, our connection to our mother. Right now, his were gleaming my direction.
“So you’re buttering me up for something,” I said, taking another bite of my salad.
The scent of grease added to the ambiance of the diner as we each munched delicious cheeseburgers. I’d ordered a side salad with mine, while Mason was halfway through a ten-inch stack of deep-fried onion rings.
“Onion ring?” He offered one to me, his eyebrows raised.
I pursed my lips. “Mace, I have to be back to work in thirty minutes. Spill.”
“Let me help you get a better job.”
“My job is fine. Tell me what you want.”
He ran his hand over his hair as he exhaled. “Fuck, Lorna, I want a lot. And you know what?” His voice lowered to a whisper. “It’s right fucking here.” He reached out his large hand, stretching out his fingers. “Like so close.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sparrow.” His green eyes darted around the diner. “I can’t say more, but damn. I was wrong about him. Everything is...we’re right on the cusp of greatness.”
I leaned forward. “You went from fighting for the country to some underground shit?”
Mason sat taller. “Don’t say that. And not here. It’s not what you think or what you see in movies.”
“No.” I reached across the table. “You’re right. I have no idea what it is because you don’t tell me shit. But, Mace, I love you. You came home from war. I can’t lose you.”
“You’re not going to, Lorna. The thing is...it’s fucking dimensional.”
I shook my head as I reached for one of his onion rings. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I bit into the crunchy coating as the flavorful onion exploded over my taste buds.
Again, his deep voice lowered. “I’ve kept you separate from it and them because I thought you’d be safer that way.”
“If separate is safe, separate yourself.”
He shook his head as his expression turned deadly serious. “Think about chess.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? I’m more of a checkers girl.”
“I’m serious. Chess is a game of cunning, planning, and execution. Sure, the point is to take the king, but if it were that easy, everyone would play.” He was on a roll. “Don’t think about one flat board. Think about three, or shit, five. And the moves on each board affect the pieces on the other boards. That’s what is happening right now.”
Swallowing the last crumb of the delicious onion ring, I shrugged. “Sorry, bro, too complicated for me.”
“You fucking sell yourself short. You always have. You deserve better.”
“Better than cleaning come-covered sheets? Right. And how’s that going to happen?”
“Didn’t you say you had this coming weekend off?”
I nodded.
“I need your help.”
Okay, here it was.
“What? You’re going on a secret mission and you need me to feed your cat?”