Page 43 of The Angel and the Agent

“Don’t mention it.” His hand continued a slow progression over her head. “I mean really don’t mention it. You could get me fired or prosecuted.”

“Your job’s a secret, I get it,” she said, slightly annoyed.

“Not from you, not anymore. I’ve needed someone to talk to about things, but I couldn’t because of clearance. But I don’t think you count as one of the people I’m not allowed to talk to anymore.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, her fingers trailing lightly over his chest. “Hey, Ethan Becket, Becket Ethan.”

“Mm,” he said. He was getting drowsy. The room was warm and the gentle pressure of Amelia’s head on his chest was immensely comforting.

“I’m in love with you.”

His eyes popped open; he was wide-awake now. “Oh. I…”

She shifted slightly and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I don’t want a response, that’s not why I said it. I said it because I thought I was going to die, and when that happens, life takes on unusual clarity. Priorities shift, and fear falls away. I’m telling you because I think you should know, regardless of how you feel or where you stand.” She rested her head on his chest again. “I didn’t want it to be you. I tried so hard to make it Piedmont. Piedmont is a good man. He’s handsome, funny, smart, sweet, attentive, and so wonderfully, beautifully rich. You should see his house. I mean, I could cry thinking about it. He’s twenty-eight, and he has an actual art collection. You’re twenty-eight, and you have a toaster. Your apartment is as crummy as mine, probably crummier because a lot of times it smells like unwashed gym socks. He’s been talking marriage and children. You lack the emotional capacity to even send me one of those ‘doyou like me, circle one yes or no’ notes. But Piedmont has this one glaring character flaw: he’s not you.”

He resumed sifting his fingers through her hair and, after a few minutes of silence, she was asleep. Ethan, meanwhile, lay awake for a long, long time.

Chapter 15

In the morning when Amelia woke, Ethan was gone. “Ethan?” she called, but there was no answer. She got up to check the bathroom, just in case. When she returned to the bedroom, she saw a note on his pillow.

“Went to find a scout. Don’t panic, be back soon. STAY THERE! EB.”

With time to kill, she decided to take a shower. She tracked down their hosts and asked for soap. They gave her a bar of good-smelling soap in fancy French wrapping. Amelia washed and then washed again, not caring the water ran cold the entire time. She didn’t have a toothbrush or paste, and Ethan had said not to use the water to brush her teeth anyway, so she settled for gargling mouthwash. She was finger combing her hair when Ethan returned, and right away she knew things were awkward between them.

“Hey, you showered,” he said.

“Nothing gets by you highly trained spies,” she said.

“Yeah, heh,” he said with a lame chuckle. “So, I found a scout and he’s going to take us across. It’ll be a water crossing in his boat.”

“Okay.” Was she supposed to protest? He was looking at her like she might.

“If I shower, am I going to smell like you?” he asked after a few beats of painful silence.

“If we’re lucky,” she said.

He grinned and she gripped the edge of the bed to keep from flinging herself into his arms. “I remember a certain young lady telling me once that she liked my sweat smell.”

“She sounds weird. You should avoid anyone who speaks favorably about BO.”

“I can’t seem to get away from her. I go to sleep, she’s there. I wake up, she’s there. I fall asleep, she’s in my dreams.”

“Try going to another country. I bet she can’t find you there,” Amelia said.

“You’d think so, but she’s clever,” he said. “Some kind of French-speaking math genius.”

“Nerd alert,” Amelia replied.

The heavy silence returned and lingered. She got the sense he wanted to say something, that he was trying to tell her something, but she didn’t want to hear it. “You should take that shower now.”

He nodded and backed out of the room, keeping his eyes on her until he was out of range. When he was gone, Amelia flopped backwards onto the bed. Why had she told him she loved him? She’d clearly scared him away, possibly forever. She had never pursued a man, never made the first move. Men had always pursued her, and that was how she liked it. She’d had a serious high school boyfriend for two solid years and never once told him she loved him. Why did she have to start being forward and desperate with Ethan? Had a kidnapping and near-death experience knocked her so far off-kilter? Well, that would do it if anything would. Maybe he would understand. Maybe hewouldn’t think less of her for basically throwing herself at him emotionally.

“Watcha doing?” Suddenly Ethan was leaning over her, one hand pressed to the mattress on either side of her head.

“Bah!” she yelped, jumping. “Do you have to be so sneaky?”

“Kind of, yeah. In fact, it’s literally in my work contract,” he said.

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