Page 7 of Operation: Silent Angel
“You should talk to the Smiths and see if they’d take care of it,” Yvette suggested.
Geraldo and Eva Smith were a middle-aged couple whom the team had helped escape Colombia many years before. Withhis connections, Shepherd arranged new identities for them and helped to set them up with their own cleaning business. Shepherd then contracted them to clean the majority of areas at the Shepherd Security building. Ops, Michaela’s lab, the Team Room, and the shooting range were the notable exceptions. They also cleaned the majority of the employees’ homes at least once a month.
“That’s a great idea. I’m sure they could take care of most of it. Opening and closing the pool each year would be the only thing we’d have to hire a real pool company for. The problem is, those activities have to be scheduled in advance, and I could never know if I’d be home to be there and oversee the work.”
“I’m sure Elizabeth, Rae, or Dahlia wouldn’t mind sitting at your house twice a year while that was being done.”
“True,” Madison said. She smiled. “We’re one step closer to having a pool!”
“Pool party at the Cooper’s house!” Yvette joked. “I’ll buy a new bikini right away.”
Madison laughed.
“How soon do you think you can get one installed?”
“I might already be on the schedule for the week after next,” Madison said. “Got the permits and everything.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, you should buy that bikini over the next few days while you’re off.”
***
The sun was bright in the early afternoon sky when Yvette drove her car, a black Acura MDX, from the parking garage beside the Shepherd Security building. She picked her sunglasses up from the console and slid them over her hazel eyes. Then she ran her hand through her hair, pushing her bangs back, untucking them from the top of the sunglasses. She’d let her hair grow out recently. It had been unintentional at first as she couldn’t get into her stylist due to her hectic work schedule and due to the fact that her stylist, Angel’s Aunt Meredith, whose salon was on the fourth floor of the building, had been on vacation for three long weeks. But now, with the longer bangs and with the sides grown out to what she’d describe as a choppy chin-length bob, she rather liked how it looked on her. It was a big change from the very short style she’d worn the majority of her adult life.
She drove the ten minutes to her townhouse. It was in a luxury development with a security gate and a high fence surrounding the entire complex. The buildings resembled French chateaus. That was one of the architectural features that drew her to the unit she purchased. That and the open floor-plan, large windows, vaulted ceilings, designer kitchen, and upgraded cabinetry and appliances. Her two-bedroom, three-bath end-unit had an attached two-car garage and a full basement.
She parked in her garage and then walked out to the community mailbox across the street from her driveway. She hadn’t gottenher mail in several days, not that there was ever much there. She got all of her bills and anything of consequence electronically. She sorted through the flyers as she walked back to her garage, intending to deposit the majority of them in the recycling bin.
It was a beautiful day. She’d spend some time on her deck, which was off her living room. That was another design feature she loved about this complex. The backs of the buildings were all offset from each other, so all the decks were private, tucked into corners of the buildings and unseen from each other. There were mature trees and bushes between buildings, further cloaking each deck, creating concealed retreats.
Once in the garage, she dropped the junk mail in the recycling bin and then stepped up to the front passenger side of the car. She pulled her backpack out and slung it over one shoulder. Before she made it to the door that led into the house, a figure moved on her from the front of the car. He moved fast and was on her at about the same time she identified the threat. She swung her heavy backpack, striking him in the head, and followed up with a knee that hit only his leg, rather than his crotch, the intended target. He body-checked her into the wall beside the door leading into the house. She landed a right cross on his jaw before she saw his face.
“Mac? What the fuck!”
“Getting sloppy, Red,” he said, not even winded. He grabbed her by the shoulders. His body pressed against hers, pinning her to the wall.
Yvette stared into the familiar pale green eyes with a heavy speckling of brown in the irises. “You’re the only one who has ever been able to sneak up on me.” She smiled and then she reached her lips to his. His lips met hers halfway, and he pressed her more tightly to the wall as his tongue invaded her mouth.
“Is everything okay in there?” a voice familiar to Yvette called from outside of the garage.
Yvette tore her lips from Mac’s and craned her head around him to see her neighbor, Charles, and his beautiful German shepherd, Toby, standing in her driveway near the street. Charles was peering in with a concerned expression on his face. “Yep, just fine. Thanks for checking.” Her gaze re-affixed on Mac, and she smiled. She reached her hand up and pressed the switch to close the garage door. “Enjoy your walk, Charles.” As the door rolled closed, her lips once again pressed to Mac’s, and she kissed him with everything she had.
The garage was cast in darkness when their lips again separated and their eyes re-opened. Yvette’s heart pounded, and her breaths were ragged. Every nerve in her body fired, creating warmth and a deep need for more. Mac never failed to ignite a primal desire in her, an insistent demand for intimate touches, erotic kisses, and animalistic sex that defied all logic.
“Are you going to invite me in?” Mac’s voice, with the slight Greek accent that never seemed to change, asked dripping with innuendo.
“Oh, absolutely,” she answered, her voice just as suggestive.
Her hand found its way to the lock panel, and she pressed in her code. The door clicked as it unlocked, and she pushed it open, flooding the garage with bright, natural sunlight streaming in through one of the large floor to ceiling windows across the room on the far wall of her living room.
Mac stepped in behind her, his gaze sweeping the space as he entered. To the left was a large laundry room, and the closed doors to the closets that lined the wall. He passed by the full bathroom tucked in between the laundry room and the living room, arriving in the spacious, open main area consisting of the living room, kitchen, and dining area. The walls were painted an off white, with just the tiniest hint of a pale terracotta color that was only discernible against the stark white vaulted ceiling.
His eyes came back to her. “I like the hair. It looks good on you. Makes you look softer.”
“Don’t let it fool you. I’m still the same, haven’t softened in the least.”
He chuckled. “Seriously. You look good, Red.”
