Page 140 of Moonlighter
“Good effort!” he says when I’m about three quarters dead, his voice as cheerful as always.
“Thanks,” I gasp, rolling up off the mats.
“Did you hear we’re getting a bunch of snow?”
“Really?” It rarely snows in Manhattan. Not more than a dusting, anyway. And never in December.
“Yeah. Like, eight inches. Might have to cancel our session tomorrow if the subways are shut down.”
“What a shame,” I say as sweat drips into my eyes.
Chip laughs as he walks away. “You sound really broken up about it. Come on, man. Go reward yourself with a shower and a protein shake.”
But my real reward is a trip into midtown to have lunch with Alex. After my shower I put on a nice shirt and slacks.On my way into the city, I text her.Still have time for lunch?
By the time I reach Manhattan, I have a reply.Your dad and brother are here to rehash the situation. But I’ll kick everyone out of my office as soon as I can.
When I reach the front desk of her building, I have to wait in line for a visitor’s pass. This is a theme in my life, although Alex is worth it.
“ID, please,” says the young woman behind the desk. “Who are you here to visit?” She gives me an appreciative once-over.
“Alex Engels.” I set the ID down on the countertop.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“She’s expecting me for lunch. Do you want me to call upstairs and ask her to approve the pass?”
“Hang on…” Her shiny nails make a clickety sound on the keyboard. “She added you to her approved list. I’m printing your pass now.”
“Thanks.”
A moment later I’m passing through the turnstile and then riding the elevator to the top floor. It’s easy to find Alex’s suite, because Rolf is parked at a desk right outside.
“You again,” he says with a scowl.
“I told you I was the boyfriend.”
He rolls his eyes. “Big security meeting, though.” He hooks a thumb toward Alex’s door. “They’re not finished.”
“That’s okay. Those people all like me.” I can see a flash of my dad’s gray hair through the slats in the blinds that shield the office from curious eyes.
When I open the door, conversation stops.
“Eric,” my brother says. He’s standing in front of a whiteboard, a marker in his hand. “After last night, I can’t put you back on Alex’s detail. I need to use my pros.”
“I’m not here for that,” I say, crossing to Alex where she sits behind her desk. As soon as I reach her, Alex beams up at me, ready to receive my kiss, which I give her. “I’m here because I was invited to lunch. But please carry on. I’ll just sit here and look pretty.” I park my ass in a chair against the wall.
“Okay,” my brother says with a sigh. “We’re writing down everything we’ve learned about Xian Smith.”
“Because we’re trying to decide,” Alex echoes, “whether it’s even ethical for me to reach out to yet another supplier with an order. So far we’ve got one factory fire and one shooting death.”
“Unless it’s just a shitty coincidence,” my father ventures.
Max slowly shakes his head. “This was not a coincidence. Eric—is there anything you can add to this timeline?” He points at the wordJulyon the whiteboard. “He stopped you two in Hawaii to ask for a meeting. Did he say why?”
Hell, did he?
Alex and I glance at each other. “That encounter lasted two minutes, tops. And I don’t think he said a word about his mission.”
