Page 59 of Damaged

I pause, taking in her joke. I feel like the weight of the world just rolled off my shoulders, and I laugh. A genuine, hardy laugh.

Sophia is staring up at me with a smile. “I’m sorry. That was awful.”

“No,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “That was great.” I’m not even thinking as I playfully pull her in and kiss her on the forehead.

I’m not even thinking, but I’m glad I did it. I’m not sure what it meant, if anything.

It just feltright.

Sophia

The security presence is crazy the rest of the time we’re in Egypt. Karim sent some guards out of good will, and now James and I have men withriflesescorting us everywhere.

I’m not a fan. The whole thing makes me nervous, and whenever I see the guards, my stomach feels like it flips. To top it off, I don’t see much of James.

It was all downhill after that kiss on the forehead. I can tell he was caught up in the moment. He let go of my shoulders soon after and turned cold. Professional.

But it didn’t stop my belly from burning with what felt like hot embers.

It’s stupid. There’s a difference between attraction and affection, and my brain can’t seem to figure it out.

When we went to the pyramids afterwards, James gazed up at them with his hands in his pockets with all the interest of an unimpressed teenager. His mind was elsewhere.

On business. Or perhaps regretting how close we’ve gotten to each other on this trip. Still, there’s a wall there. One I doubt he ever breaks.

We haven’t talked much since that morning by the river.

It’s our fourth day in Egypt, and this morning I get to our private breakfast bar late to see James not in his usual suit. He wears a blue dress shirt tucked into khaki pants. Black aviators hang off his shirt’s first button.

“It’s done.” He raises his coffee mug in a toast.

“The artifacts deal?”

“And the sale of software to the defense ministry,” he says and smiles. As distant as the rest of his body language has been, he’s been doing that more around me lately. Smiling. Idon’t grow tired of seeing it. Kind, wide, disarming. The way it brightens his eyes makes my heart forget its tempo.

“Great.” I look away from his eyes, afraid I was staring at them too long. “Are we flying back today?”

“Well… that’s something I wanted to discuss with you. I was going to meet some younger business associates and his friends at my place in Morocco. It’s on the sea, north of Casablanca,” James adds. “It’s a bit of celebration, but I’m looking to shore up another contract, and I’d be lying if I said you weren’t instrumental in closing this artifact deal. Your estimates were perfect.”

“It was just research,” I say. “Anybody could’ve done it.”

“Don’t discount yourself. You’re free to join me in Morocco or head back on the next flight to New York. But if you fly, Brock goes with you.”

I can tell James is still paranoid about my safety. Maybe that’s why he’s inviting me to Morocco. He still doesn’t want me out of his sight. At least while we’re still overseas and I’m his responsibility.

“It’s a big place,” James adds. “No one would be sleeping on the couch.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to not sound so eager. “I’ll come.”

We land in Casablanca in the late afternoon. There’s no white Rolls Royce this time. We get into a van that smells like new car and drive up the coast while the sun sets over the Atlantic. It’s gorgeous. So pretty that we both just look out the window, no words needed.

We pass beach resorts and golf courses and take a windy turn down a cobblestone road towards the seashore. At the end of it is a massive Spanish-style mansion. It’s lit up bright by exterior lights.

“This place is yours?” I say, my mouth hanging open.

“I have a small portfolio of vacation rentals. It pays the bills and lets me keep them guilt free.”

A porter takes my luggage upstairs while I stand in the foyer admiring the place.

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