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Staring at his sleekly styled brown hair and heavily bearded face in the mirror, he saw a stranger.The expensive suit and tie that had been his uniform for the last three months only reinforced that feeling.He felt more than ready to say goodbye to Elliot Wilmington, financial investments manager, a man who cooked the books at work and lived in a penthouse apartment at night.
While his living situation for this assignment had put him into the privileged world of the rich and famous, he still felt dirty from the immorality and criminality that had been his constant companions since he'd gone undercover to unravel a money-laundering operation.
Picking up his razor, he ruthlessly attacked his beard, then stripped off his clothes and jumped into the shower.An hour later, he was clean-shaven and wearing black jeans and a crew-neck blue sweater.But as he dried his hair, the man in the mirror still felt like a stranger.He was more himself, he supposed, but he wasn't sure who that was anymore.Too many assignments, too many months of being someone else, had taken a toll on him.
Turning away from his image, he headed into the living room of his two-bedroom apartment.It wasn't anything spectacular, but it was home—sort of.He'd moved to LA eight months ago, and for most of that time, he'd lived in other places, but he was here now.
He walked through the double glass doors leading to the deck, which was the main reason he'd rented the apartment.He had a great view of the Pacific Ocean and the Santa Monica beach.
It was after four on a Wednesday afternoon, and the sun was dropping low in the sky on this late March day but there were still plenty of people on the beach below, some even wading into the cold water.He took a deep breath and let it out.Tomorrow, he'd go for a bike ride or maybe a run, get rid of the restless feeling he couldn't seem to shake, but today he needed to think about food.His refrigerator and cupboards were bare, and he was hungry.He needed to either pick up groceries or get some fast food.
As he reentered his apartment, the sound of his doorbell startled him.He walked over to the intercom and uttered a wary, "Yes?"
"It's Flynn and Andi.Let us in," Flynn said.
He buzzed in the head of his special task force, Flynn MacKenzie and fellow agent, Andi Hart, surprised they were here.He'd planned on catching up with everyone tomorrow at the office.Something important must have come up.Maybe a new assignment.
Pushing aside his feeling of exhaustion, he put on his game face and opened the door.
Flynn and Andi stepped off the elevator and made their way down the hall.Flynn, as usual, looked more like a surfer than the head of an elite task force, his blond hair long and windblown, and his attire faded jeans and a graphic T-shirt.Andi, with her dark hair and eyes, was much more put-together in gray slacks and a light-pink sweater.They were both carrying grocery bags, and he knew what this impromptu visit was about.
"You didn't have to do this."He took the bag from Andi and waved them into his apartment."I was about to go out and get groceries."
"It's a tradition," Flynn said, as he moved toward the kitchen and set his bag on the counter."Especially after a long undercover assignment."
"We got a little of everything," Andi put in."By the way, you look good, Nick.More like your old self.Are you going to miss your expensive wardrobe?"
"Not even a little bit," he replied as Flynn pulled out steaks and put them in the fridge along with the makings for a salad."You guys went all out."
"We even bought cookie dough ice cream," Andi added as she reached into the bag he was holding and held up a carton with a cheerful smile."Just in case you were tired of eating fancy desserts at five-star restaurants."
He smiled as he set down the bag."I must say I've been dreaming about a burger and fries and not one with truffles, something greasy and bad for me."
"Such a sad life you've been living," she said dryly as she put the ice cream in the freezer."On my last undercover assignment, I had to work as a waitress in the worst diner in town."
Andi was right.It hadn't been the worst assignment in terms of living conditions, but some things he'd had to watch and take part in had turned his stomach, and it took a lot for that to happen these days.But he didn't need to get into that."I really appreciate this," he said instead.
"No problem," Flynn replied."You helped us deliver a big win.Many people will go to jail, and that's because of your work."
He shrugged."It wasn't just me."
"You were on the inside, and that's always the riskiest place to be," Flynn said, a serious note in his voice.
"So, what's next?"he asked, eager to change the subject.
Flynn grinned."For you—a break."
He wasn't sure how he felt about that.Too much time on his hands had never been good for him, either."I'll be good to go on Monday."
"I want you to take at least a week," Flynn said."You've been running nonstop since you joined the team eight months ago, and you haven't even finished decorating this place."
"It looks fine."He had never been that interested in putting up pictures or having anything more than a basic living space."I don't spend much time here, anyway."
"I could help you," Andi offered."I'm not great at decorating, but I'm better than you."
"That's a nice offer, but I don't need help."
"I used to be like you."Andi gave him a knowing look."Someone who refused to ever admit I needed help."
