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We only made it three steps toward the door before Rebecca found us up there. “Ahh, good, you two met. I was hoping you would.” Rebecca’s reaction shocked me, thankfully not giving me her signature what-the-hell eyes. “Diana’s mom didn’t bring her to our wedding, or Mom and Dad’s funeral, but we go way back, and I wanted to introduce you two.”
“The ambassador was at our wedding?” The funeral, too? My memory wasn’t that bad, was it? Then again, I’d met hundreds of her acquaintances over the years, and it was hard to keep everyone straight. Our wedding alone had at least four hundred guests.
“Susan wasn’t an ambassador then.” Rebecca didn’t have a coat, so I removed mine and draped it over her shoulders. “But wait, how’d you know her mom’s an ambassador? I didn’t see you talking to Susan tonight.” Her eyes flashed to Diana. “Oh, of course, you told him while up here, right?”
Diana peered at me as if surprised I hadn’t told my wife how I really knew her mother, and her, for that matter. “I did.”
“Thank God Diana wasn’t hurt last month. Did I tell you she was in that bombing? A miracle no one innocent died that day.” She pointed to Diana, then gestured for us to head back to the party. “She’s a whiz kid. A genius. One of the smartest people I know, and I know a lot of people.”
“I’m really not that?—”
“Don’t be modest,” Rebecca cut her off as we descended the steps, the two of them walking ahead of me. Rebecca hooked her arm behind Diana’s back in a comforting and guiding gesture. Damn, my wife would make a good mother one day.
If only you wanted kids.
“I’m going to get a drink. Want anything?” I asked the two of them once we were back in the main party area, the room flooded with people. “Shit, you’re not twenty-one yet, right?” Next month?
“Wow, you two really talked a lot, huh?” Rebecca spun around, handing me back my jacket.
If there was ever a time to tell you . . . “The embassy bombing,” I muttered under my breath, letting her connect the dots.
Rebecca’s eyes widened, and she peered back and forth between us.
“Is it such a shock?” I tossed my coat on a nearby leather armchair. “You know what I do.”
“Will you excuse us?” She gave Diana a polite smile, and I tipped my head to the girl before letting my wife lead me wherever she wanted to go.
“I thought you were in Africa,” she huffed in an exasperated tone once we were in her father’s old office. Flicking on the light, she made a beeline for the bar and poured us both a drink.
“I was.” I closed the door. “We were brought to Abu Dhabi for a quick op. We were about to come home when the call came in about the hostage situation at the embassy.”
“You could’ve died. Diana’s mom told me her daughter almost did. Along with the operator who was with her. And that explosion could’ve?—”
“I’m fine.” When her worried eyes remained fixed on me, I set a fist to my chest to emphasize the fact my heart was still beating. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“So, you were the operator with her? Susan asked for his name, but she was told it was classified. No wonder Diana had stars in her eyes up there. You’re her hero.” She shoved the glass in my hand and gulped back her scotch.
Staring at her without taking a sip, I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you upset I could’ve died or that I didn’t tell you I almost died?”
“Both?” She arched her brow. “But this is all the more reason you should leave and join the Agency.”
My turn to drink. “You know if I join the Agency, I’d be out in the field. No desk job. You get that, right?”
“But no more long deployments, which means we could make love more.” She slid her free hand up my chest, and I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, tightening my grip just enough to make sure I had her full attention.
“What is it you really want?” How fucked up was it that part of me hated I loved her so much I really would do whatever she wanted if she pushed hard enough?
I’d convinced her to agree to Selections, but she’d assumed the ninety percent fail rate would’ve stopped me from joining the Unit. She was wrong. I’d had Griffin at my side ensuring I made it through along with him. So here we were, at a crossroads. Part of me not wanting to give up something I’d worked so hard to achieve, something I was good at. The other part not wanting to lose the life we had together, a life that was increasingly impacted by a job she resented.
“My parents put so much pressure on me while they were alive.” She sighed. “I still feel the pressure now that they’re gone. Like we need to?—”
“No.” I shook my head and let go of her. “They wanted us in the White House one day. Senate, then the presidency.” I circled my finger like a helo blade spinning. “Is that what these parties are about? Connections to get us there? Because I don’t want that.” Please, fucking please, don’t try and push me to say yes to that. “I also don’t think you really give a damn about the White House. You just feel the guilt and burden of wanting to make them happy.” I went to the desk, abandoned the empty glass, and began working up the sleeves of my white button-down shirt. “Besides, I’m not sure tattoos are the preferred accessory in the Oval Office.”
“First time for everything.” My wife dragged her palm down her collarbone to her cleavage, distracting my efforts at deflection. She had on a stunning full-length red silk dress. Her blonde hair was pinned to the side with a barrette, and her green eyes were intense and focused on me.
“You could be POTUS one day, by the way. Why does it have to be me?”
“As nice of an idea as that sounds, I don’t want the job. But I do want to help people. Change the world. And I think between the two of us we could do that. But not if you die. We can’t do anything if you’re dead.”
