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“What will haunt who?” Charlie’s voice echoes through the office.
“Maybe your call sign should be Hawke,” Mark jokes as Charlie approaches. “You have hearing like one.”
“We were just discussing Gregory,” I reluctantly impede on their banter. “Your husband worries about the impact it’s having on you.”
Gently touching Mark’s face, Charlie tells her husband to believe her when she says she is fine. All she is seeking is justice for her father’s death at Christopher’s hand, and any other worry she felt died when Vanessa did.
“Are you taking Emily with you to Brooklyn this time?” she then turns directly at me.
I don’t know if I believe her words, yet, smiling, I confirm that Em will be joining me over the weekend. It was difficult before her kidnapping, but now it’s even worse to try and get that woman to take any time away from her work. I knew it would be easier to entice her out over the weekend, so I organized with Earl to meet later in the week.
“When is your flight?”
“We are on Thursday's early evening flight out of Norfolk International,” I add. “Emily has arranged to do her teleconference on Friday at the Brooklyn FBI office.”
Grinning at me, Charlie replies, “Then that means you can join us tomorrow night for dinner at our house.”
It will be the last thing Em will want to do, but laughing, I tell her we’ll be there. I’ve known Charlie Dixon long enough to know there is no point turning down a dinner invitation because she’ll never take no for an answer anyway.
“By the way, when are Sean and Hadley coming to visit again?” Charlie goes on to ask.
Those two rarely ever come this far south unless it’s for work. The last I heard, we no longer required further assistance from the FBI, so her question has me wondering what’s going on. When I ask, Charlie informs me that Cullen has been asking when Grace is coming to visit again.
“They are on their way to Hawaii, I believe, on their first family vacation.”
Grumbling Charlie turns to her husband to whine about them needing a family vacation.
“Every day is a vacation when you’re married to me.” Mark grins, forcing more grumbling and an eyeroll from Charlie.
“I’ll see both you and Emily tomorrow night, Hawke.” She exits, hugging me. “As for you, Mark Dixon, maybe it’s time I look for a new husband.”
“Hey, now wait a minute, woman,” I hear Mark call as he chases his wife out of the office.
There is never a dull moment when these two are around, but for my safety, I wait until they have both left the room before I allow my laughter to escape.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Emily
“I think we should cancel, Hawke, and arrange to go to Mark and Charlie’s when we return,” I call out, throwing yet another dress on my bed in disgust.
In the last week, my stomach has doubled in size, making it harder every day to find anything that will fit me. I kept telling myself I’d get some maternity dresses, but work has kept me busy, and I just haven’t found the time.
Slinking up behind me, Hawke slides his hands around me and rests them on my growing bump. “You know we can’t, sweetheart; it’s too late to back out now.”
“Nothing fits me,” I cry.
“You could show up in sweatpants, and they wouldn’t care,” he consoles.
I may just have to.
“We are going shopping for maternity clothes in Brooklyn,” I grumble, breaking free of his embrace.
“We can do whatever you want,” he announces, leaving the room. “But please hurry up; otherwise, we will be late.
In resignation, I grab the maxi dress I bought in Dubai a few years back. Surprisingly it fits better than I expect.
“I’m ready,” I yell, once happy with my appearance.
