Page 98 of Code Name: Michelangelo

I was sitting in the main room of the house, taking everything in, and feeling very grateful that the men and women here were Brand’s colleagues. It was clear this was far more than a job to them. They cared so much about each other.

“What now?” I heard DeDe asked.

“Anything you want,” Sven responded.

“I want to go home. Back to England, I mean.”

“I think that can be arranged. When?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Hey, Decker?” Sven hollered.

“Yeah?” the man answered, stepping into the room.

“My future wife wants to go home, as I’m sure the rest of these folks do. How soon?—”

“The plane is fueled up and waiting at JFK.”

“Hey, guys? Would it be okay if I tagged along?” I blurted, then wished I’d kept my mouth shut. I had no reason to go to London other than to feel closer to Brand.

“I think we can make room for one more,” Decker, who was standing beside me, responded.

Nemesis approached us. “I’ve an idea. How about we arrange for Michelangelo to have a break and surprise him with a visit from you?”

My eyes opened wide. “Would that be possible?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

While we were in flight, Nemesis made arrangements for me to immediately board another flight to Florence. “Brand has been alerted and will be waiting there for you.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

She motioned to DeDe. “This is us giving you our thanks.”

When we landed at the airfield in Gatwick, DeDe and I said a tearful goodbye.

“Please thank Brand for me,” she said as we embraced. I assured her I would and raced off when I heard them announce the final boarding call.

I was on the plane, seated in the window seat of the third row of first class, when I looked up and my eyes met those of a very handsome Italian man. When he smiled, I looked away. It made me think of Tara and how she’d gushed about the guy who came to the gallery to meet with me about representing an artist he knew.

Like her, I could appreciate the man’s looks, but he couldn’t hold a candle to the one who held my heart.

See you soon! I messaged him. I love you.

Brand answered immediately. Counting the minutes. I love you, Butterfly.

Two hours later, when the flight landed, I was about to exit my row to deboard when a man pushed his way through from the front of the plane and blocked me.

“Penelope Ramsey?” he asked in a thick accent.

“That’s me.”

He pulled out a badge. “You will wait here while the other passengers exit the aircraft.”

“Why?” I asked.

He stepped into the row but didn’t respond. Once the last person had left, he motioned for me to stand. When I did, he spun me around and attached handcuffs to my wrists.

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