Crisis of Conscience, page 3
part #11 of Alexis Parker Series
“What do you mean you don’t know if you’re coming back? Yesterday, you said you’d be back in a couple of weeks. Did something happen?”
I looked away, shaking my head.
“Parker, did someone threaten you?”
My eyes shot up, and I searched his face. “Why would you ask me that? Did you hear something?”
“No,” he looked perplexed, “but I don’t see what could have happened between then and now that would make you rethink returning to work.” He licked his lips. “I know we had some words before you went on leave, but it was a bad day. That was all it was, right?”
“That has nothing to do with it.” It did, but I wasn’t about to admit it to Lucca. He’d accused me of emotional instability after witnessing a few of my unplanned panic attacks and being the victim of one of my PTSD episodes. “Jablonsky made a surprise visit to my house, and I really don’t want to see him again anytime soon.”
“What’d he do?”
“Abused my trust.” I snorted. “It’s not the first time he’s done it. I doubt it’ll be the last. He always acts like he knows what’s best for everyone when he doesn’t even know what’s best for himself.” I shut my mouth before details concerning Jablonsky’s three divorces passed my lips. It wouldn’t help to stoop to his level by sharing secrets and breaking confidences. “Is there any chance he’s the mole?”
“At this point, I wouldn’t put it past anyone, but he was thoroughly investigated before being given clearance on this op. If it is him, he’s done an excellent job of throwing us off the scent.”
“It’s not him.” I knew it wasn’t, but I decided to verbalize it anyway before this got back to the boss too.
“No, it isn’t.” Lucca picked up the glass of water in front of him and downed it like a shot. “C’mon, Parker, you’re dying to know what’s going on. Just say yes, and I’ll bring you into the inner circle.”
“Are you sure your intel is solid? Are there any doubts? Could this be an external leak?”
“That’s what we thought at first, especially with all the international hacking as of late, but it wasn’t. It came from a terminal inside the federal building.”
“Whose?”
He shook his head. “Say yes.”
I was bored, so I wanted something to work on. I also wanted to have an excuse to walk away. If the OIO was compromised, we were all compromised. That meant agents would be reassigned and relocated. It might provide an opportunity to shift paths, change careers, or get reassigned to a different more humdrum office. Then again, I didn’t see Martin ever willingly leaving the city and moving to some remote town with an FBI field office that hadn’t done anything in the last decade. Not to mention, I knew I’d never survive the boredom either. I was damned no matter what I did.
“I’ll think about it,” I promised, sliding out of the booth, “but for tonight, I want to go home and not worry about any of this.”
“I don’t blame you. Ignorance is bliss.”
He said it to goad me, but I wasn’t falling for that. I was too turned around inside to take on more challenges. The first thing I had to work on was me. The second would be the job, but I wasn’t sure if that meant keeping my head down and my nose clean or diving headfirst into the biggest, baddest case I could find. Knowing me, it’d probably be the latter. Obviously, I’d never learn, and I was doomed to have history repeat itself. No wonder Martin was positive this job would kill me; apparently, I planned to let it.
* * *
“What are you going to do?” Martin asked.
“I don’t know.” I looked up at him. “Maybe I should just give up.”
He chuckled. “Do you really think I’m going to fall for that one again?” He released his grip and brushed his fingertips against my stomach, tickling me until I was a writhing, giggling mass beneath him. We were roughhousing, which had turned into the norm for our staycation. He wasn’t exactly willing to become my sparring partner, no matter how much I begged, so this was the next best thing. “Now what are you going to do? Huh?”
“Stop,” I said in between gasps, “that’s cheating.”
“What was that?” His fingertips dug in deeper, pleasantly tormenting me.
“You win,” I declared. The tickling stopped, but I remained transfixed by the smile on his face. Letting out a contented sigh, I freed my other hand from his grip and looped my arms around his neck. This could be enough. I didn’t need anything more. I was blissfully happy. Usually, that meant something terrible was about to happen, but there were no crises on the horizon. “I don’t need anything else.”
His brow furrowed, and he kissed me. “Are you sure about that?” Without warning, he attacked again, and I burst into another fit of delighted squeals.
“That’s it.” Wrapping my legs around him, I flipped our positions, pinning his hands above his head. “Let’s see how you like it.”
“I’m not ticklish.” His words were smug, so I pulled up his shirt and ran the tip of my finger against his defined abdomen, enjoying the way his muscles jumped at the contact.
“Not ticklish, my ass.”
“Well, I’m not going to squeal like a girl.”
“Good, that would be very disconcerting,” I retorted. “Plus, I’m supposed to squeal. In case you haven’t noticed, I am a girl.”
“Oh, I noticed.” His eyes danced. “That’s actually what drew me to you in the first place.”
“Shut up.” I slapped his chest, giving up on the attempt at a counterstrike. Dropping my head to the crook of his neck, I wrapped my arms around him. “Why can’t our lives be like this all the time? I mean it. We’ve talked about it before.”
“In the context of the two of us never leaving your apartment. That wasn’t particularly realistic, Alex. Plus, you’d get bored,” he said patiently.
“I won’t if you’re around to entertain me.”
“I do that exceptionally well. However, neither of us is built for a life of luxury.”
“Says the man with a driver, a bodyguard, and a maid, not to mention all of these wonderful things.”
“You know what I mean. I’m not a ‘spend the afternoon at the club’ kind of guy. How many times have you accused me of being a workaholic?”
“We can go to some meetings together. Work the program. Twelve steps. How hard could it be to shake that bad habit?” I shifted off of him and sat up. “Seriously, if the lawsuit and the fallout were a thing of the past, would you rather be at the office now instead of here with me?”
“Of course not.” He sat up, running a hand through my hair. “You’ve never been insecure before. What’s going on?”
“I could leave everything else behind,” I said, ignoring his question. “I think I could walk away if it meant you’d be here. There are so many other things to do, and I’ve never given any of them a chance. We could travel or take up a sport. We could train for a triathlon or something.”
“What happens after we come back from seeing the world and swimming with sharks?”
“We find something else. You love to cook. We could plant a garden, take lessons at some culinary institute, spread the word about sustainable foodstuffs, organic, grass-fed, whatever.”
“You forgot the part where you hate nature. Plus, I already know how to cook. I dabble. I don’t have any desire for formal training. And in terms of the environment, health initiatives, and charity, I already try to do my part. Obviously, we could do a lot more. I could do a lot more. But that isn’t all-inclusive. I can do that now. I should do that now.” The wheels in his head started turning, and I knew he was in the midst of planning another philanthropic endeavor. My guess was it would be a substantial donation to a charity, but with Martin, it could be a research project his company could conduct that would ultimately lead to new tech or new ways to better mankind. His generosity was just as sexy as his physical appearance, and for a moment, our discussion was derailed until he brushed his thumb against my cheek and drew my face upward to look at him. “What’s really going on, Alexis?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “I’m just content for the first time in a very long time, and I don’t want this feeling to go away.”
“What will it take to make it last?”
“I don’t know. You.”
He grinned. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that. Wild horses and all.”
I rolled my eyes at the cheesiness of his comment, but the topic was quickly sobering. “Do you think Mark was right?”
“No.” The smile left his face. “You’ve been through hell. You’re doing okay.” He searched my face. “Aren’t you?”
“I don’t know.” Absently, I rubbed the brace on my wrist. “Sometimes, I wonder if this is the excuse I need to stay away.”
“Why does your work at the OIO have to define your well-being? That doesn’t make any sense to me.” He reached for my wrist, removing the brace and gently rubbing his fingers against the indentions in my skin. “You could leave that job in a heartbeat, and it wouldn’t mean a damn thing, except you were through dealing with the bullshit and the danger.”
“And then what would I do? You don’t want to travel the world or take cooking lessons with me, so I’d be alone and adrift.”
“You wouldn’t be alone. If you want to redefine yourself, do it. The lease on your P.I. office hasn’t expired yet. You could do that in the meantime if you really wanted.”
“I just want more days like today. I want more time with you. Frankly, I just want more time.”
He enveloped me in his arms, realizing that I was still shaken by my last mission at the OIO. “You can have all the time you want. There’s no rush.”
My thoughts blinked back to Lucca. He wanted help sooner rather than later. Jablonsky wanted me back on the job. It felt like I was putting everyone else behind schedule, but I wasn’t ready to jump back in. However, I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready to leave it behind again.
“Right.” I gave him a squeeze. “What else do you have planned for our stay-at-home vacation?”
“You’ll see.” He winked, kissed me, and got off the floor, offering a hand up. “Shall we begin with a cooking lesson for the lady?”
Four
“We could take up ballroom dancing,” Martin mused, glancing at my reflection in the mirror while he knotted his tie.
“Bite your tongue,” I hissed. “You know I hate to dance.”
“Actually, I think you hate following someone else’s lead.” His eyes darted from the tie to my face, and I glared at him. “Fine, whatever you say.” He took a deep breath. “Did you ever enjoy it?”
“Following someone’s lead?”
“No,” he swallowed, “ballet. Y’know, when you were a kid.”
“You shouldn’t listen to what Mark has to say. He doesn’t know anything.” I opened the closet and sifted through the garment bags. “Did you say it was black tie?”
“Yes,” Martin came up behind me and put his hands on my hips, “wear the white one.” He reached past me and pulled a white dress with black accents from the closet. It was some new designer gown that had materialized in the last week or so.
“Fine.” I took the hanger from his hand, hoping that the appeasement would stop the inquisition.
“I won’t bring it up again, I promise, but is that why you hate dancing?” he asked again, giving my neck a kiss.
“I don’t know. Maybe. That’s all I knew back then. It didn’t matter how I felt about it because it was just something I had to do. Plus, ballet is a lot different from dancing with you at one of these stupid galas.”
“I don’t want you to think being with me is something you have to do.”
“Really? It definitely feels like a chore most of the time,” I teased. “Hell, going to these A-list events is a lot more work than I’m used to putting in, even on the job.” I bent down and scooped up a pair of ridiculously high stilettos I secretly adored. “Have you seen the shoes I’m expected to prance around in?”
“Then go barefoot. You’ll still be the most gorgeous woman there.” He took the shoes from my hand and placed them back on the floor.
“It’s not just the shoes. I’m not sure I’ll ever be accustomed to this lifestyle.” I shrugged “I feel out of place in my own life. How the hell does that happen?”
“You’ll figure it out. Nothing has to change. No matter what happens, things can stay exactly the same if that’s what you want.”
“Then I can wear my jeans and t-shirt and watch movies on the couch all night again instead of doing this?”
“Hey, you said a few days ago that I should be more charitable, so I made a large contribution which happened to come with a set of tickets. Plus, you could use a night out. Staycation doesn’t mean transforming into a hermit.” He rubbed my shoulders, running his nose up the column of my neck and nipping my earlobe. “I want one dance tonight, deal?”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “Just another chore. Damn, this was a much better arrangement when I was paid to be your escort.”
“In that case, I’ll leave the cash on the nightstand.”
“Asshole.”
He laughed. “Get dressed. I’ll be downstairs.”
After he left, I dolled myself up while reminiscing on an eerily similar night a couple of years ago that involved pretending to be Martin’s date instead of actually being his date. That was soon after we first met and right after I had gone to work for him. It had been a hell of a night. Oddly enough, he had come to my rescue which led to our friendship and everything afterward.
“The more things change, the more they remain the same,” I mumbled, adding a bit of eyeliner. Even now, he wanted to rescue me. Too bad I wasn’t sure if I needed a rescue. After going down the stairs, I put on my shoes and went into the kitchen. “Martin?”
“I’m in the dining room.”
Following the sound of his voice, I turned the corner, finding him standing in the center of the room in his tuxedo. He didn’t have the jacket on upstairs, but now he looked like a million bucks, maybe more depending on inflation. Soft music played in the background, and the room was lit by candlelight with red and white rose petals covering everything.
“I’m guessing this is a fire hazard,” I said, feeling queasy.
He smiled tightly, like he was nervous, and my stomach did a flip. “You’re stunning.”
“Well, you bought the dress.” Sarcasm, also known as being defensive or deflecting. The psychobabble ran through my mind, and I fought the urge to run from the room. “You look pretty damn amazing too.”
“Come here.” He held out his hand.
“We should get going. You like being punctual.”
“You promised we’d dance.”
“Here?”
He shrugged. “Why not? Unless you rather have an audience.”
I crossed the room, taking his hand and feeling a slight tremble go through him. He took both of my hands in his, cocking his head at the missing brace. Then he did the one thing I had simultaneously been dreading and anticipating, and he got down on one knee.
“Please don’t.”
He searched my eyes for a moment. “I want you to know that it doesn’t matter what you say. We’re us. Nothing will ever change that. I won’t leave you, and I won’t hurt you. You don’t need to be afraid of that or of commitment. I’m already committed to you, sweetheart, and I always will be.” He dropped one of my hands and reached into his pocket, pulling out a black velvet box and flipping it open with his thumb.
“James—”
“I love you, Alexis. Marry me?”
I couldn’t breathe. The room spun. The stupid candles must have sucked out all the oxygen. I inhaled sharply, forcing what little air I could find into my lungs. Managing little more than a nod, I sunk to the floor. His lips found mine, taking away the small amount of breath I had. Eventually, I just clung to him, waiting for the world to steady itself. Having a panic attack at the sight of a proposal probably wasn’t normal, but he didn’t seem to notice. And for that, I was grateful.
Eventually, my nerves steadied themselves. Martin was elated, murmuring ‘I love you’ nonstop in between the barrage of tender kisses. We didn’t make it to the charity event. I’m not entirely sure how many tries it took before we made it up the stairs and into the bedroom. Luckily, he had turned off the interior cameras at the beginning of our staycation, so that was one less thing I had to worry about.
Waking in the early morning hours, I couldn’t remember if we blew out the candles. I also couldn’t believe that I had agreed to marriage. We couldn’t get married. I never wanted this. I made that clear from the beginning. This wasn’t supposed to be a serious relationship. This was supposed to be somewhere in between casual but below serious. Now I had this iceberg on my finger that would sink my life faster than it took out the Titanic. Nudging Martin awake, I was met with a sleepy, satisfied smile by the love drunk fool.
“Good morning, beautiful. You said yes.” He pulled me against his chest, running a finger up my arm and to the ring. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it. It’s simple and classy, but I know you think it’s too ostentatious.”
“It is, but that’s the least of the problem.”
He began to laugh, and I glared at him. Eventually, he sobered and gave me a gentle kiss. “We don’t have to set a date anytime soon. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be in this decade. You agreed to marry me, and we had a whole hell of a lot of fun afterward. That’s enough for now.” He rolled onto his side, so we were facing each other. “I don’t want you to stress over this. You were freaking out enough yesterday.” He smiled. “I honestly thought you were going to bolt the moment you walked into the room. I’m amazed you didn’t. I’m really happy you didn’t.”
“Yeah, well...” I tried to clear my thoughts, finding myself conflicted on yet another aspect of my life. “As if I weren’t already twisted up enough inside.”
“Seriously, there is no pressure. Nothing has to change. I mean it.”
I nodded. “Can we keep this quiet for a while?”
