Page 136 of Spies Don’t Fall for Their Best Friend

My phone starts vibrating on the coffee table, and we both glance at it. It’s work. Reese says, “I’m guessing that’s about things I’m not cleared to hear. I’ll go check on the soup.”

She doesn’t sound hurt—just understanding, and I love her even more because of it. I pick up the phone. “Lancaster.”

“How’s little Chuck doing?” Charlie asks.

I close my eyes for a moment, chuckling. “Reese texted you?”

“Yep. And you know, it’s like Dad used to say, ‘If you ever happen to get kidney stones, urine trouble.’” She laughs at her own joke, then says, “Maxwell cleared.”

I sit up straighter, my exhaustion seeming to disappear. “Final vetting?”

“Yep.”

I stand, but the motion hurts. Apparently, I made a sound, too, because Charlie immediately says, “Sit down.”

“I’m fine.”

“Reese also texted that you are banned from using that phrase.”

“Charlie. I need more details.”

“Rooke’s people sent the invitation to bid on the asset roster twenty minutes ago. You can do one sealed offer. The deadline is three tomorrow afternoon.”

Finally. For weeks, we’ve been trying to get my alias, Maxwell Shaw, close enough to the sale to matter. Celeste opened the first door, and now Julian Rooke is finally letting him into the room where it happens.

“What do we know?”

“Not a lot. Just enough to authenticate what’s being offered, but not enough to expose the full package. Emerson and his team are doing their magic to estimate the bid range.”

“I’m coming in. I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“Mom says absolutely not. You can barely stand.”

“I’m standing.”

“We don’t need Maxwell physically tonight. We need the offer built, and we need it to sound like him. Emerson can send it all to your secure terminal, and you can work from home.”

I let out a breath that comes out sounding a little like a growl. “I do not want to be sidelined by a kidney stone.”

“Mom says if you show up here tonight, security has instructions not to let you in.”

I close my eyes and take a slow breath to try to manage the helplessness and frustration of my mission moving forward while I can’t be where I need to be. “And if Maxwell wins the bid?”

“Transfer instructions come after the seller selects the buyer.”

“When?”

“Unknown.”

Which means it could be tomorrow night. Or the next morning. Or ten minutes after the bid closes. I run a hand over my face. “Okay. Send me everything.”

“Will do,” Charlie says and ends the call.

Since there isn’t any kind of barrier between my kitchen and my living room, Reese knows the moment the call finishes, and she comes over with a bowl of soup as soon as I set down my phone.

“That sounded promising.”

I sit back down on the couch as she puts my soup on the coffee table. “Promising and frustrating.”