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My heart ached whenever we left her to go on a mission. But at least she was here in Norway with us, rather than on the other side of the world. And we would see her that evening when we got home.
Trish watched the whole routine from a respectful distance, then drew closer when we were done. “What do you say to someone going on a security mission? Good luck? Break a leg?”
“Either of those work,” I replied.
She hesitated, then came in for a hug. It was comforting and warm, and there wasn’t anything sexual about it, but I still savored the way she felt as I folded her into my embrace. She fit just right, like she belonged, pressed up against my chest. I patted her on the back and resisted the urge to stroke her hair.
She’s the nanny,I told myself.Not your girlfriend.
“Good luck!” she repeated with a smile. “Break a leg!”
The peace conference was twenty minutes away, in the heart of Oslo. We met the head of the security team in a neighboring building to the conference itself. At least fifty other members of the security team were milling about and fastening earpieces into place.
“We’ve got the outer perimeter,” Archer said after checking in. He held a map out for us to review. “North end, from this square to this intersection. I’ll be on the roofhere,which gives me a vantage on these two public squares.”
“Let’s get to it, then,” I said. Harrison let out an unhappy grunt.
Our job was straightforward: to look for anything out of the ordinary. Or to provide an early warning in case someone tried to ram through the conference in a vehicle, although metal barricades were positioned to stop such an attack. Harrison and I patrolled the street, weaving in and out of the flow of pedestrians.
It was as boring as it sounded. We patrolled, and checked in with the head of security, and followed a few individuals who looked suspicious. This went on for an hour. Then another hour. By the time the first day of the conference had ended, nine hours had passed without anything noteworthy happening. I was happy to walk back to our car at the end of the day without any excitement, but Harrison looked like he wanted to punch a brick wall.
“Boring is the ideal scenario,” Archer reminded him as we drove home. “Any time we get paid anddon’thave to risk our lives is a victory.”
Harrison stared out the window like a German Shepherd on the way to the vet.
Kaylee was happy to see us when we got home—and I was just as happy to see her. The presence of our daughter was a constant relief; a reminder that this was all worth it.
Harrison found a bottle of vodka and went up to his room, where he closed the door and cranked up what sounded likeLed Zeppelin IV. Archer opened a bottle of Merlot and casually sipped his drink while reading a book. I grabbed a beer and settled on the couch with Kaylee, who was playing some sort of interactive card game on her tablet.
“How was it?” Trish asked. “Good first day?”
“Not too bad—” I began.
“I’m afraid we cannot discuss it,” Archer interrupted.
“Right, of course,” Trish quickly said. She pulled her hair over one shoulder and began fussing with it nervously. I could tell she was curious about what we had done all day.
I want to open up to her, I realized.I want to tell her things at the end of the day. To treat her like…
I shook off the thought and drank my beer faster.
The next day was identical to the first. We drove to the conference, watched a section of the perimeter all day, and then went home to the girls. Trish sat next to me on the couch and talked about growing up in North Carolina, and how amazing it was to get out and see the world. She had taken Kaylee down to the park earlier in the day, and even that little adventure was enough to make her feel like she was living the life of a world traveler.
I struggled to sleep that night. For one thing, Archer’s snoring was so violent that it should have been against the Geneva Convention to sleep in the same room as him. I was also still wired from the day; even though nothing exciting had happened, my nerves were frayed from staying on alert non-stop. But for another thing, I kept picturing Trish in my head. Sitting on the couch, feet tucked under her and grinning across her drink. The easy way she talked to Kaylee and took care of her. The smile she gave me when I made a joke that nobody else laughed at.
Archer is right. I have a crush on her.
Three cups of coffee did little to help me wake up the next day, and I was yawning as I strolled down the Oslo block that we were assigned to watch today. It was due west of the peace conference, with a direct road heading into the secure area where some of the conference members were being dropped off. Once again, Harrison and I were wandering around on foot while Archer covered us from a rooftop.
“Suspicious target at your two o’clock,” Harrison suddenly said in my earpiece.
The hair on my neck went stiff. I kept walking along as if nothing were wrong, but I cut my eyes to my right. “Description?”
“Brunette, green dress,” Harrison replied in a serious tone. “Black heels. No panty lines. Probably concealing a thong.”
I heard Archer groan. “Stop eye-fucking all the diplomat wives.”
Harrison grunted in response.
