Page 66 of Love Me Knot

“I’d say yes. We picked the Willard for its proximity to the capitol.”

Sadie nabs a chocolate from Birdie’s candy bowl and pops it in her mouth. Speaking around the chocolate truffle ball, she says, “It has a private bar with even more private dining options.”

Birdie cuts her eyes back to me, and mine roll. “Not that private.”

“Just enough for Harding to feel comfortable giving up the name of his Pentagon informant,” Sadie clarifies.

I shake my head, still thinking this is insane. Yes, just an hour ago, I was willing to go to shady lengths to get the name of Harding’s informant. My proposal got shot down by virtually everyone. What concerns me is that I don’t know how I’ll get Harding to spill his guts with just a bit of light conversation. Instead of saying so, I suggest, “How about we just work on what I should say in case the man makes contact?”

The call from Harding comes two days later. I haven’t seen Jackson in all that time. In fact, none of the SEALs have visited the compound since the day we returned from Spain. I guess they haven’t had a reason to.

I’m currently at home, sitting on my sofa when the mission phone rings. “Hello.”

“Chelsea. I’m glad I caught you. This is Calvin.

“Calvin, what a surprise. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Hoped, but didn’t expect.”

“I didn’t want you to forget me.”

“Impossible. How are you? How was your flight back to Washington? I trust my flight staff treated you well.”

“The flight was perfect. Speaking of Washington, I heard you’ll be in town this weekend. If your schedule allows, I thought we could meet and discuss ways to integrate you into our cause.”

“As luck would have it, I do have some spare time. I’ll be flying in Friday afternoon in case there are any last-minute details to clear up. I’m afraid Jackson won’t be with me, though. He’s currently deployed. Is that alright?”

“More than alright. Where will you be staying?”

“I’ll be at the Willard. We could meet at the Round Robin.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Great. I’ll reach out on Friday with details.”

“See you then.”

I end the call using my sultry, in-heat voice and lean back on the sofa, not liking the bad taste in my mouth. I let the undercover phone drop to my lap and reach for mine to inform Birdie.

We got him.

Chelsea

Fifty times now, I’ve picked up my phone to message Jackson_fifty times over the last two days.

I’m sorry.

The words are needed but are not enough. Jackson was right. I’ve taken this whole need for acceptance to a dangerous level if the thought of sleeping with Harding for answers didn’t give me pause.

Time ticks by as I stare out the window. The driver brings the SUV to a stop, and I file out with the rest of my crew to board the jet taking us to DC.

Sadie, Aaron, Bash, and Kai stow their gear and buckle into the lavish seats for the short flight. They’re the only ones going with me. While Kai isn’t a team leader, the half Samoan–half Caucasian man is the most attentive operative on our team. He’ll aid Bash on video surveillance while Aaron and Sadie pose as a couple in the bar. The SEALs aren’t allowed to operate on US soil, so their participation was an automatic no. Given the nature of this particular exercise, they’re not needed anyway.

I fidget with the hem of the ivory-and-green floral Giambattista Valli dress Amina picked out specifically for tonight. The wide V-neck cuts down to the empire waist, ensuring I could wear no bra with the pretty spring dress. My hair is done to perfection, and so is my makeup.

On the outside, I look as ready as I can be for my last undercover mission. Inside, all I can think about are the regrets I have.

Upon arrival, vehicles from our DC branch whisk my team to the hotel. After checking into adjoining rooms, the men set up surveillance equipment while Sadie fits the crew with hidden cameras and microphones. No one recites security measures or coaches me up. The team hardly speaks at all. No one wants to be here, least of all me.

Just before go time, Bash orders everyone out of the room, sealing me inside with him. He turns off his radio and grips my shoulders, dipping his head to stare into my eyes. “We need a code word.”

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