“Thirty-two.” I nod very seriously. “Since girls mature faster than boys, that means you’re actually twenty-four and I’m twenty-nine. But the fresh mountain air around here keeps people young, so I’mreallyonly twenty-seven. Which is perfect.”
One of her eyebrows lifts in a graceful arc. “Perfect for what, exactly? I told you: I don’t date.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Oh, of course not. Dating is ridiculous. Should be banned, if you ask me. However, I know this town, and you’re obviously doing some kind of top-secret government spy research here. I think it would be incredibly helpful of me to pick you up after work tomorrow and drive you around so that you could see the sights.”
“Top-secret research?”
“All the notetaking. You can’t be writing in a diary. Nobody is so interesting that they write out their thoughts all day long. No offense.”
She sputters a laugh, her delicate fingers splaying across the table, as if trying not to laugh too loudly. “You don’t know me. Maybe I have a fascinating inner world.”
“I’m sure you do. And I want to hear all about it during our drive tomorrow.”
I really want to take her out right this very second, but since she’s wary, I need to give her time to think it over and keep acting as casually as possible. I can’t let her know that even resting my fingers on her hand is giving me a little thrill.
“So, I could be down here around quarter after five. Where shall I pick you up?”
“I haven’t said yes yet, buddy.”
“Yes, you’re right. My apologies.”
I pull out my phone and start to make a new contact. “And your number…?”
She recites it almost automatically, then looks surprised. “Wait a sec. I never give anyone my number.”
“See? It’s a sign that you trust me. And that you really do need my help for your research, or spying, or plans for global domination.” Two men walk past the window, and my palm raises to the sky triumphantly. “I’ve got it! You’re researching plaid shirts. You’re here from Big Flannel.”
“Weirdly, that’s actually a tiny bit closer than government research.”
I could stay and chat with this girl forever, but can’t let her know how eager I am. Plus, Harper’s car pulls up out front at that very moment. Holding out my hand, I shake hers gently but formally. “Lovely sharing coffee with you, Special Agent Nikki. I’ll text you tomorrow and you can send me the coordinates for our secret rendezvous.”
Her lips purse. “I didn’t confirm any rendezvous.”
“But you must!” I jump to my feet. “It’s absolutely crucial to our operations in Zurich and Minsk. Until tomorrow, then.”
Nikki’s delighted laugh at my ridiculous farewell will keep me warm all night. I march to the counter, pay our bills, and disappear before she can remind me that tomorrow is not a date.
Yeah, right. The most important “not a date” of my entire life.
3
NIKKI
I’ve spent the past night and day in a bit of a zombie state. I should probably talk to Harper and Jocelyn about it, but I just can’t bring myself to, because they’ve heard me talk about my dating rules for quite a while. They know why I have the rules in place, too. Yet here I am, getting ready to go out with a guy I just met.
That’s one comforting thing about being in a small town, though. If Carson were some kind of lunatic, we would’ve heard about it by now. Plus, from the way Myrna looked right into my eyes when she told me Carson was a good guy, I believe her.
And we’re only here for a month. So if anything happens between us, it’s already very clear that it’s only temporary.
At five o’clock I get a text.
Unknown caller: This is Special Agent Carson. I’m on my way downtown. Where is the rendezvous point?
My fingers are shaking slightly as I enter him into my phone as a contact.
I’m at Jim’s Pizza.
Carson: Noted. See you soon.