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His eyes widen appreciatively as he raises his hand, “Waiter, check please,” he jokes.
I laugh again. “Please, the least you could do is feed me first.”
“Whatever the lady wants.”
Over Bash’s shoulder, I see the female waitress, agent Mitchell waving me to the lady’s room. “The lady needs to use the restroom,” I say, rising. “I’ll be right back.”
As I walk by him, Bash takes hold of my wrist. The two waiters ready themselves for action. But Bash just winks at me. “Make it quick, I miss you already.”
“I will, baby.”
With that the agents stand down as I make my way toward them. Mitchell slips into the bathroom before I do and is waiting there with bated breath.
“Good job, now let’s get you out of here,” she says, taking me by the arm.
“No, wait,” I say, twisting out of her grip. “I don’t want to go.”
“We think he knows, Madison. All that information that he’s feeding us, it didn’t seem odd to you?”
I let my gaze fall away as if contemplating. “It’s not that unusual for Bash to discuss some aspects of his work. If you’re so concerned that he’s suspicious, let’s just remove the damn wire. It’s irritating as hell.”
She stares me in the eye. “You looked pretty scared out there, we can take you in, protect you.”
“Like he couldn’t find me at the hospital?” I say incredulously. “I’d be putting myself more at risk if I went running out of here like I’m guilty of something. Just remove the wire and let me continue my dinner. Even if he’s suspicious, once he realizes there’s no wire, I’ll be fine.”
Her scrutinizing gaze is unrelenting. “If you go home with him, there’ll be nothing we can do to protect you.”
“I get that, but no wire, no danger.”
Her face screws up in disbelief. “The guy’s a coldblooded killer,” she says tersely. “Don’t be a fool, Madison. Let us get you out of here.”
“If you won’t remove the wire, I will,” I say growing impatient with her.
“Fine, it’s your funeral,” she retorts as she begins helping remove the wire that’s been sewn into my gown. “And they say doctors are supposed to be so fucking smart,” she grumbles.
This irks me, so before I know it. “I’m a surgeon which means I’m just as lethal and can handle myself.”
She looks at me anew as if studying me. The hard edge in my words don’t exactly mesh with the demure creature that I portrayed at the dinner table. Is the gig up?
“I wouldn’t get overconfident if I were you,” she replies as she jerks the wire out my dress seam. “You just might be too clever for your own good, Madison.”
“Look, I just want to practice medicine in peace without the DEA breathing down my back. I played along and did what you all asked. Now please,” I yank the rest of the wire out and hand it to her, “leave me the hell alone.”
Before she can get another word out, I storm out of the bathroom past the other patrons and back to our table.
“You’re back, I was about to send out a search party,” Bash says, though his eyes are questioning me, eager to know what went down.
I hold up my phone. “Sorry, I was checking messages.”
“Everything alright?”
“Yep, apparently theycanmanage to go a day without me.”
“That’s got to hurt the old god complex, or rather goddess, I should say.”
“Ha, you’re one to talk.”
Our waiter, a new one, I note, arrives with our entrees.
