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“Hang on,” she said. She tapped the code into the phone and hung up.
Shortly, Josh appeared at the front door, holding two bottles of wine. Daisy took an immediate but polite interest in him.
“You have a formidable dog as well as a gate,” he said, handing her the wines. He turned his attention to Daisy. After a little introductory affection, she brought him a tennis ball.
“That means you’re friends now,” Holly said.
“I can’t believe he’s a watchdog, too.”
“She. And she’s a very well-trained watchdog. But, if you behave yourself, I won’t have to give her the kill command.”
“That’s a relief,” Josh said.
“Drink?”
“Scotch?”
“You ever drink bourbon?”
“Only under duress.”
She poured him a Knob Creek. “You have to drink one of these; after that, you can have anything you like.”
“Oh, all right,” he said, taking a sip. “Not bad.”
“Faint praise,” she said.
“Give me time. What smells good?”
“Osso buco; it’s been in the oven all afternoon. I’ll make risotto before dinner.” She poured herself a drink. “Let’s sit outside for a while.”
Josh walked to the sliding door to the beach and opened it with difficulty. “Wow,” he said, “that’s one heavy door.” He looked closely at the glass. “Now, that is what I’d call major hurricane protection. It must be an inch thick.”
“An inch and a half,” Holly said.
“May I ask why?”
“Courtesy of my employer. They like for their people to be well protected.”
They sat down in deck chairs. “And who might your employer be? I’ve no idea what you do.”
“Hardly anybody does,” Holly said.
“Does that mean I’m not supposed to ask?”
“Probably.”
“All right. I’ll respect your privacy and keep my nose out of your employment.”
They sat and watched the evening light on the sea for about a minute.
“All right,” he said. “What do you do, and who do you do it for?”
Holly had to make a decision; usually she told people she was an official at the Department of Agriculture, which pretty much prevented any further conversation, but she liked him, and it wasn’t strictly against the rules to tell someone where she worked. “I work at the CIA,” she said. “I’m an assistant deputy director of Operations.”
He looked at her sideways. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“I kid you not.”
