Page 32 of Under His Sheets
No problem. As long as it doesn’t interfere with work.
She nodded and pursed her lips.
Felip gave her a look and sighed. “I swear I’ll watch all the, how do you call them, Gold Miners?—”
“Oh my God,” she said. “Like you didn’t live in the Bay Area while you were in college. You know exactly who the Forty-Niners are, and yes, youwillwatch with me.”
Of course he would. He would do anything for her, and I was grateful. I was happy to see her happy.
Iwas happy this morning. And judging by the handful of looks I caught from Alonso, he was as well.
NINE
Monday,Noon, Frederick Douglass International School, Castelldefels, Catalonia, Spain
“Tell us everything.” Josette, Camille, and Sasha sat with me for lunch on Monday and were itching for details of my adventure at the winery.
“And I meaneverythingbecause when we came to get you for brunch on Sunday, you were not home.” Josette tapped a finger against her lip.
“You’re a good detective,” was all I’d say. I continued eating my bocadillo and tried hard to minimize the smug grin on my face.
Sasha leaned in close. “Does that mean you had asalaciouslygood time?”
“Since you three obviously won’t let it go,” I said dramatically, though in reality I wanted very much to tell them everything. I was bursting at the seams to talk about my weekend. This would be a true test of my clandestine skills. “The whole story is that we went to Cava Segura, we had a delicious meal, my friend Cecilia and her fiancé Felip Segura announcedthey’d be having their wedding at the winery in June, we drank a lot of really good wine, and we all stayed overnight in the Seguras’ home. They fixed a lovely brunch on Sunday, I got home around three in the afternoon, and went straight to bed until this morning when my alarm didn’t go off and I had to rush to work. Satisfied?”
“That’s wonderful! Can you get us an invite to a tasting up there?” Camille asked. “I’ve not been to one of the fancy Spanish wineries. Do not tell my parents but I much prefer cava to champagne.”
“You are disowned as a French girl,” Sasha said, and they giggled together.
“I would have to ask Cecilia if they’re open to the public. I think they are?”
Then they asked about the food, they asked about Cecilia and Felip and how they met. And then Alonso passed through the cafeteria and I lost track of what I was saying.
“Perhaps you had too much fun,” Camille said, chuckling as I frowned and tried to gather my thoughts. Thoughts other than he’s got my love bites under those coveralls. He kept his gaze straightforward, but he did look toward our table once and I thought his lip twitched, but I could have been imagining it.
I was completely obliterated when it came to him. I would follow protocol, only greet him as a colleague, and I would definitely not swoon. That would be difficult, but I couldn’t act familiar with him at all.We’d discussed the ground rules before we parted Sunday morning.
“If I do not look your way in the hall, know that I’ll be missing you terribly.” He’d caught me in the hallway outside the bathroom before we’d left the Segura house, while Tomás and Mateu had Felip occupied and Cecilia was saying goodbye to his parents outside. “I hope this is all over soon. I want to bring you back here as mine.”
“You mean, just spring me on your family, like, ‘surprise!’?”
He’d grinned and gripped my hip. I would miss his hands.
“Why not? I hope we can come to Felip’s wedding together. I want to dance with you.”
“That would be wonderful, and a long time from now.”
“I know,” he’d said. “I wish I could tell you?—”
“I know. Until then, I will do my best to pretend I’m not thinking about you every other second…”
His expression went solemn and he took my hand in both of his.“Be patient. I have a feeling that things are going to develop swiftly in the coming days. Be careful, and be patient with me, por favor, amor.”
“Amor. Is that Spanish or Catalan?”
He leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Both. Start practicing in earnest. You need to keep up.”
As he’d walked away, a shiver had run through me. I’d be patient. I hopedhewould be careful. Whatever this mission? Case? Situation? Whatever he was involved in, I had to imagine that as a member of military intelligence—okay I’d started to do a search online but then paranoia set in. If he was at Frederick Douglass, that had to mean there was a counterpoint to his work, and that could mean I was being watched, any of us were being monitored. For all I knew, there were bugs in my apartment…
