So that’s Park Bradshaw.
As his field support operative, I’ve been working on and off with him over the last six years, but I’ve never seen him in person until today. I watched him follow the man carrying the computer chip into the bathroom. I waited for him to come out, then I tailed him around the mall, and the entire time he had no clue.
I always knew Park would be good-looking—you can just tell those kinds of things from a man’s strong voice and the confident way he speaks. Plus, I’ve heard stories about his fighting skills and seen how he completes his assignments with precision. All of that screams attractiveness. But I have to say, I was surprised by just how handsome he was. If circumstances were different, I might wish we could be more than coworkers.
But circumstances aren’t different.
I’ve spent the last two years on assignment, trying to findhim.
Granted, I didn’t know he was the one I’d been looking for, but then Todd Allen pulled me into his office two weeks ago and gave me a picture of Park and mynewmission.
And now I’m a liar.
I lie.
Park thinks I’m in trouble, but reallyhe’sthe one in trouble.
He’sthe target.
It doesn’t matter that over the last six years of being Park’s virtual co-operative, I’ve developed a friendship with him and always valued our conversations when we worked a job together. I have to stick to the plan no matter what. My entire career and everything I’ve worked for all hinge on me finishing this mission. It’s my first time being in the field as a real CIA officer. I can’t blow this.
I know all of that, so why did I feel guilty when Park fell right into the trap?
SIX
LACEE
I'm an electrochemist.
Surely, I can wrap a present and make it look decent.
I fold the sides of the wrapping paper into one end of the box, creating two little triangles. Then I press down the rest of the paper hanging over the box until everything smooshes together. It isn’t pretty. It isn’t symmetrical, but I’m sick of trying to make these gifts look perfect. I take a long piece of tape and stick it across the seam, holding it all together. Then I kick the present, sending it soaring across my carpet until it crashes into the rest of my family’s presents sitting in a pile under my tree.
“There,” I say to no one but myself. “All done.”
I sit up straight, stretching my back. That was a marathon wrapping event. Normally, I would space all my gift wrapping apart, but I still have to pack for my red-eye flight. So the wrapping had to get done now.
I gather all the loose paper, crumple them into a ball, and shoot it across the room to the garbage can. Then I get the tape and scissors and put them away. Once everything is clean, I stand in front of my tree, hands on my hips, and stare at the twinkling lights.
Next time I stand in front of this tree, Christmas will be over, and it will be time to put everything away. That’s kind of a depressing thought, but not as depressing as spending Christmas alone. Holiday depression is the worst kind of depression if you ask me. That’s why I’m heading home to Leavenworth, Washington, to spend Christmas with my parents and two sisters.
Leavenworth is the Bavarian village capital of the United States. Well, one of them. There are eight or more small towns across the US that boast a typical German experience. But if you ask the locals from Leavenworth, they’d say our small town has the most Bavarian charm, especially at Christmas. People worldwide fly in during the holiday season to celebrate Christmas with a dash of German culture. It’s a top-rated holiday destination. It’s not like I’m going home to Wishek, North Dakota where nothing fun happens. I’m going to a place where every building looks like a gingerbread house.
So it should be easy to go homewitha positive attitude even though I’m not feeling verymerrylately, but I can fake it ‘til I make it. I’m good at that. That’s why I’m currently listening to Christmas songs at full blast. I have one week to muster as much Christmas cheer as I can. Tonight, I’m dashing through the snow. Not in a one-horse sleigh. More like a Boeing 777, but it’s all the same, really.
I haven’t always been this pathetic. Three months ago, I had a career taking up all of my time, and my colleagues respected me. But that all came to a screeching halt the moment Nicholas dumped me and fired me from his lab. Don’t get me wrong. There are a few perks to being a hermit who doesn’t actually have a job or people in their life to hang out with. For example, I’ve gone without shaving my legs for the last three months. It’s a time saver, and my thick coat of leg hair keeps me warm during the cold winter months. See? It’s not all bad.
But today, I had a major breakthrough.
I actually wished that I wasn’t a slob with hairy legs. I wished I was a sexy woman that could turn the head of a charming man. And I’m not talking about Nicholas. I’m talking about Parson Brown…even though that’s obviously not his real name.
I really went for it with that kiss.
In that moment, I didn’t even recognize myself. Lacee Warren doesn’t go up to strangers and kiss them. But something snapped inside me when I saw Nicholas. I just wanted to prove to him that I’m strong. I’m sure there are better ways to prove that—some of them being illegal—although Carrie Underwood does make slashing tires and taking a baseball bat to his car sound tempting. But I chose the kiss instead.
I’m obviously not one hundred percent over what happened with Nicholas. Getting rid of the bitterness will take some time and a lot of processing, but my relationship with Nicholas wasn’t real. I didn’t love him. I was using him for work, but it still hurt when he broke up with me.
So I kissed Parson Brown, and I don’t regret it. I mean, I regret the fact that he ran off right after. But I guess I can’t blame him. From the moment I met him, I was a walking disaster.
