Page 9 of An Impossible Love
She reported as much back to Lucas. “Sir, I don’t think we have to worry about Karlsson. I think the threat would be more insidious; Karlsson wears his heart on his sleeve too much.”
“Thanks, Emmy, great work.”
Off-duty, Emmy changed clothes and then drove to the Secret Service gym in Laurel and worked out for a couple of hours. She ignored the admiring glances of her fellow male agents and rolled her eyes along with her female colleagues, used to the unguarded admiration of the surrounding men. They were used to being objectified, the only saving grace being that while on duty, the men kept their baser thoughts to themselves. It was annoying but part of being a woman in this business.
And like the rest of the female race, Emmy couldn’t help but compare her petite, curvy body to the lithe, taller agents around her. She knew her Indian heritage had a lot to do with her breakneck curves that, no matter how hard she worked out, stayed soft and fleshy, rather than trim and athletic. Luckily, her curves belied the fact that she was a kick-ass athlete—despite her loathing of running—and expert level in Muay Thai, but even she found the constant workouts a drag.Part of the job, Sati,she told herself as she went through her routine. After this, she would drive back to her small apartment in Georgetown and finally get some downtime.
Two hours later and she was in her car, windows down even on a cold February day in DC. The fresh, sharp air woke her up, and she felt invigorated and ready to…. what? What did she have to do? Her friends were all in the Service and either redeployed to other parts of the world, on duty, or catching up on sleep. She had toyed with getting a dog after Zach had died, something to help her cope, but her long hours and time away wouldn’t be fair on the mutt. Still, as she opened the door to her apartment, it rang with silence, and Emmy imagined a sweet little furball coming to greet her.
“Hey, Missy Moo.”
Emmy smiled and turned to see her elderly neighbor, Marge Johnson, waving at her from her door across the hallway.
“Hey Margie Moo, how are you? I’m sorry I haven’t been by for a couple of days. Work, you know?”
“Of course, dear, protecting that handsome man. Lucky girl.” Marge was in her nineties, a sassy lady who still highlighted what she wanted to watch in the TV Guide and spent her days playing the piano and singing songs about her ‘sweethearts.’ She also had a pretty serious Coca-Cola habit, enjoying at least one little glass bottle a day; she would often ask Emmy to come join her for an hour or two, which Emmy did gladly. They would sit out on the old woman’s deck and either talk or just relax in a companionable silence. Marge was the closest thing Emmy had to a parent, and she loved the older lady.
“Listen, some guy came by to see you… well, he said to see Zach. I didn’t tell him anything, obviously, but I took his name and number. Missy Moo, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you, but he was the spitting image of your Zach. A little taller, a little scruffier, but just like him.”
Emmy felt a jolt of pain shoot through her heart, and she had to look away from Marge’s gaze. She studied the piece of paper. All it said was his name—Tim—and his phone number. “Did he say who he was?”
Marge shook her head. “He didn’t say. Does Zach have a family? Brothers?”
“Not that I was aware of, but his family was pretty fractured. His mom left the family early, and his dad kicked him out when he was young. Maybe he could have a half-brother or a cousin… I just don’t know.” Emmy chewed her lip. “And you didn’t tell him Zach is dead?”
Marge shook her head. “I didn’t think it was my place to, lovely girl. Was I right?”
Emmy hugged her. “Thank you, Marge, you did great. I’ll call this dude and see what’s happening.”
“Want to come in for aCoke?”
Emmy smiled but shook her head. “No, I have stuff to do, but thanks, Moo.”
“Alrighty, you know where I am.”
As Marge tuned to go back into her apartment, Emmy called out to her. “I’ve been thinking about getting a dog, Moo.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Marge beamed. “I could look after it while you were at work.”
“You sure?”
“Of course! I had dogs all my life up until a few years ago. My Eva keeps telling me I’m too old, but what does she know?”
Emmy grinned at her friend. “Then you should come with me to choose him or her at the shelter.”
“Just let me know when and where, Moo, and I’ll be there.”
Emmy went into her apartment feeling lifted and happy. She would get a dog and with Marge’s help, maybe some of the loneliness would abate. She dumped her workout clothes into the washer and went to change the sheets on her bed. Doing chores relaxed her, gave her time to think, and she cleaned the whole apartment. When she was done, she showered, then put a pan of water on the stove to boil for pasta. She put some fresh salmon into the steamer and while it was cooking, she toyed with the idea of calling ‘Tim.’ Something in her held back though; did she really want to deal with this? Lately it had felt like she was turning a corner in her life; that although the pain of Zach’s death would never leave her, it had simmered down to a dull ache instead of the raging agony.
She tucked the name and number behind a magnet on the fridge and pushed it to the back of her mind. When her supper was cooked, she flicked on the television. More news about her boss. Alone at home, Emmy could watch Orin Bennett; as the television news showed the latest news along with old b-roll footage of when he was a Congressman and footage from the Inauguration, she could appreciate the man rather than the president. Onscreen were scenes from one of the balls, and Emmy felt herself color when she saw that the President had been watching her as he talked to some of the guests.Please, God, don’t let Lucas see this. If her boss thought an attraction on either side was building between Emmy and Bennett, she would be shipped off to the Nebraska field office before she could say ‘schoolgirl crush.’
But still, when she went to sleep that night, she dreamed of pressing her naked body against the president’s hard chest, feeling his arms around her and his lips against hers.
