Page 63 of The Spy Ring

I realized where Edgar was going with this, but I still felt that if Tiffany wanted to be the best mom she could be and loved David, then she needed to hear the truth no matter how much it hurt.

“That’s when you let a doctor handle it. Tell her you both need to ask an expert, obviously. But, with anything else, I would go along with whatever she says. Remember, David isn’t your son, and Tiffany isn’t your wife or even your girlfriend.”

He had a point.

“Okay, I still think she deserves the truth but if Evaleen trusts you, then I guess you know what you’re talking about.”

I had spent some time with Evaleen before I was fired, as she finally agreed to train to become an agent. I wondered if she told Edgar. She said she didn’t want to be a field agent, which was a relief considering she had a baby on the way. But, she was very interested in our Intelligence Analysis department. She would analyze the intelligence gathered and help our agents predict possible outcomes in the field, like the next move a criminal we were watching might take.

Edgar nodded. “Now that’s settled. I have to take this bag of scones back to Evaleen before she sends out a search party.”

Just before he turned to leave I said, “Has Evaleen told you yet?”

I had to ask to see if she told him yet, wondering how Edgar would handle that.

His brow creased. “Told me what?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

Edgar leaned forward wanting to know more so I pointed to his bag. “Better get those back to Evaleen before she comes looking for you.”

His eyes widened and he turned his head, looking out the café window. He grabbed the paper bag that was on the table and my letter before rushing out the door.

I decided it was time to head out of here and sulk in my crappy apartment. Taking a few last sips of coffee, I threw it in the trash before I left.

It took a bus ride and a ten-minute walk, but I made it to my place. Just as I entered my apartment door and threw my keys on the television console that was three feet from the door, my buzzer rang.

Groaning, I pressed the talk button expecting to hear a food delivery guy that got the wrong apartment number. It happened on occasion here. But the voice I heard crackling back from the speaker surprised me.

“Hi. It’s Tiffany. Can I talk to you?”

I hit the open button for the door and wondered how she got my address. Opening the door to my apartment, I waited for her to appear at the top of the stairs. When she did, my heart picked up its pace as if I was the one winded from climbing the stairs.

“Top floor?” she said pulling at the collar of her pink dress, letting a light breeze underneath.

“Nothing but the best.” I smirked, stepping inside my place and holding the door as she walked past.

“It’s uh, quaint.” Her eyes surveyed my small living room and the window that gave a sprawling view of the train tracks.

I waved her over to my brown leather couch which took up half the length of the room. She sat giving me a small smile. Her thick, gorgeous hair was pulled back into a braid and the loosened pieces that fell stuck to her face.

“Would you like some ice water?” I asked.

“Yes, please. Don’t you have air-conditioning?”

I got up and went behind the wall to my small galley kitchen to retrieve a glass. “Yes. I have wall units, but when I turn them on, it’s too loud to hear anything so I save it for the night when I’m sleeping.”

After I filled her cup with ice and water, I came back giving her the refreshing drink. She took a few gulps before pressing the glass to her forehead.

“It doesn’t bother you when you sleep? The noise?”

“I got used to it. Besides, being an agent, I never spent much time here. When I used to be one, anyway.” I shrugged.

Her eyes glanced around and it gave me a chance to study her. Even with the muggy heat of the apartment and how uncomfortable she was, Tiffany never let on she was unhappy. In fact, she smiled every chance she could.

That’s what I kept my eyes on, her lips. Her grin did something to me. The curve of her lips was more than just a turn on, it was life-giving. Her smile could light the way at night, and still have me refreshed by morning.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” she said as the light in her face died with her grin.

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