“You know it.” I wink.
She plants a wet kiss on my cheek. The floral perfume that infuses the air around her makes my eyes water.
“That’s my girl.”
I wish I had more fun stories for her, but it’s hard to have a social life when your sole purpose is to bring down one evil man.
* * *
Roe
I casta glance at my phone and order another espresso. Thirty minutes until I need to hit a press photo shoot with the rest of theDartangocast. It’s the most I can spare, especially since Rachel cleared my schedule for Zebulund’s party this weekend. This is what we wanted and planned, but I still dread it like my annual checkup.
It’s a hot California day at the bistro where I’m waiting for Invisible Girl, but the light breeze and shade make it comfortable. I don’t think I can call her that. I’m sure it’s copyrighted, and some lawyer will pop out of the bushes to sue me if I say it out loud. I’ll just call her Maggie. It’s a sweet name. Fitting. Not of her ice queen personality but of her farm-fresh face. A face I find myself thinking about more often.
When she sits across from me I jump because it’s like I willed her into existence. Even with the reek of old lady perfume, she rocks the hell out of a crop top and jeans.
“Hey.” She grabs my just-delivered drink and takes a sip. “Ouch, that’s hot.” She glares at the cup as though it’s at fault. “Can I see your menu?” She grabs it before I respond. “I’m starving. I’m assuming you’re buying lunch, Mr. Moneybags? Oh, that looks yummy.”
“Hello.” I blink, disorientated by the different version of the zombie I met this morning. “It’s okay you’re late. It’s not like my time is extremely valuable.”
“Man.” She peruses the menu. “I’m so hungry I could eat everything on here. I think I’ll get this veggie panini and fruit. What are you getting?”
“I ate.” I slide the coffee back my way. There’s only a small bit of foam left in the glass.
“Oops sorry.”
After she orders enough food to feed a whole family she says, “Okay. Here’s the deal. I got a way onto the yacht. We need to hammer out a few details.”
“Agreed.” I lean forward and lower my voice. “I was thinking—”
“Did it hurt?” she cuts in a snide tone.
“Har har. I have ten minutes.”
“You were using your three brain cells, go on.”
“You’re the only person who treats me like an idiot,” I snap. She appears slightly abashed, so I go on before she can say more. “This whole arrangement is only going to work if we’re on the same page. I get that you have this whole jaded image, but we need to work together.”
“Sorry. My people skills are lacking.” She chews her lip and looks away.
“I’ll tell you more about the business back home, if you give me the details of your talents. I don’t need you having a brain aneurysm or something while we’re in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I assume you can’t be invisible all the time or you would be. God, this is the weirdest conversation. I can’t believe we’re discussing how you turn invisible.”
“Not invisible enough, apparently.” She chews on a chunk of ice from my glass of water.
“You’re going to have to have a little faith in someone else. I’m not exactly keen to tell you about my issues either.”
“Fine.” She glances around and leans in. “But you go first.”
“Okay.” Now that I have her, I’m not sure where to begin. “What do you want to know exactly?”
“What’s the deal with this business you own, or whatever? Why all the extreme measures to meet in secret?” she asks.
The server drops off food and Maggie digs in two-fisted while I talk.
“I’m from a small town in Nebraska. It’s where my parents live and my brother and sister. Everybody I grew up with. There’s a factory that I help keep open. In turn, everybody has a job and the economy thrives. I can’t be linked to it in any way.”
“Why? What does this factory make? Drugs? Bombs?”
