“Love isn’t childish.” She scowls at me and glares at Scott. “One day you’re going to eat those words, Scotty. You’ll fall so madly in love you won’t be able to breathe unless she’s right next to you. Her touch will be the only thing that will make you feel alive.”
She turns to the waiter, ordering an assorted plate of tacos to share and more guacamole. Once he’s gone, Hazel’s head angles toward Scott and she gives him an I got you smirk. “I’m going to make sure I have front seats to the show. Seeing you fall in love is going to be fun. Watching you bend forward, backward, and everywhere to make her happy will be the cherry on top. I can’t wait, Scotty-boy.”
I can’t help but laugh at her scenario and my brother’s mumbling. If there’s a person who can shut down my brother and make him squirm, it’s Hazel. She doesn’t own him, but she can pretty much do anything she wants with him. They are complete opposites. He’s tall, dark, sullen, and quiet. She’s petite, sunny, and noisy. He hates love. She’s a romantic at heart. And relationship meddling is her hobby. She’s set on finding love for my brothers and me. Someone to spend the rest of our lives with because we deserve a happily-ever-after. I have no idea if that will work for me—ever, but some days I would like to have what my baby brother has.
He has a woman who loves him, and he loves. Even after a rough start, there’s nothing one won’t do for the other. Seeing how happy she makes him—just when she smiles in his direction—makes me want it. As I look at Hazel, I wonder if something between her and I could work. But there’s no spark, no chemistry between us. I love her the same way I love my brothers. There’s no way I could take it to the next level.
“Hazel, leave the heartless tin man alone,” I chide but laugh again, rolling my eyes at his dark frown. He’s planning my death.
“He’s lying, Scott.” Her hand reaches his and she gently squeezes it. She then leans closer to him, and I wish the noise level were lower so I could hear what she’s whispering. The crease on his forehead is gone and the faint smile he only gives her appears for two seconds. “You have the biggest heart of the Everhart guys.”
“Now, tell me what your next mission is.” She turns around and questions me, a smile stamped on her face and her inquisitive mind ready to interrogate me.
“I’m going to be out of town for the next couple of weeks.” I’m vague about my whereabouts, but I try to update them as they worry about me. “Though after that, you’ll see me every day.”
“Why? Are you old and ready to retire, Grandpa?” she smirks.
I think she’s either not as sick as she says or she’s trying hard to keep up with me.
“I’m only twelve years older than you, child. But my next job is in town, nothing dangerous,” I specify when Scott’s jaw begins to clench.
“Babysitting, I’ll be around to make your life a living hell.”
“Ha, it’s the other way around, my friend.”
The lightness of this moment makes everything that happened before dissipate. There’s nothing better than being with the people I love the most. They erase the images of the smoke, the screams, the violence.
Four
Luna
The flight attendant announces that we’ll be landing at JFK in only a few minutes. I stare out the window, glad to see the body of water and tiny buildings getting closer by the second. A feverish shiver runs down my spine. This isn’t my first undercover assignment, but the first where I’m with a new team. Though I’ve been working for the chance to be away from my family, now that it’s happening the jitters are eating me alive.
Things haven’t worked as I planned. The job I wanted didn’t happen. Hazel and Scott called to inform me that my background check came back with an interesting set of training skills. And if I wanted a job in the field, they knew a guy who could use them.
“Unfortunately, your badassery background is not for us, but thank you for applying.” Hazel hung up the phone.
Bitch. I don’t like her, not one bit. If I ever see her in New York, I’ll make sure to use my badassery skills and kick her butt. Snobbish bitch.
Though they ruined my first option, I got a job nonetheless. Following my brother’s advice, I searched for a job at a yoga studio where I could teach and also practice Reiki. It’s so much easier than holding an executive position. Three emails, one long phone conversation, and two signed contracts later, it was confirmed. I have a job. This isn’t anything but good news. The planets aligned. The stars shined. At least that’s what I thought until today. Until this moment, when we’re about to land and I happen to open the Astrology Daily app.
Mars and the sun enter your career sector. As they meet, they point to a real rush of activity and attention to your career or reputation. You’re not content to simply think about or plan out these matters—you want to exploit every opportunity and take charge now!
This is the time to ask for a better position. But beware, people will make more and more demands on your time. It’ll lead to a loss of control of your priorities. Keep your eye on the prize. Find a way to regain normalcy. Nevertheless, you refuse to give up; you know a solution is near and a great adventure ahead will once again inspire your heart and soul.
Watch for blind impulsiveness.
Luna: This might not work out as well as I thought.
Lucas: Why?
Luna: Let me read my daily horoscope on the two other apps.
Lucas: No, no, and no. You can’t possibly come to that conclusion based on those crazy apps.
Lucas: Luna, you’re not seventeen anymore. Why the fuck are you still reading that shit?
My brother doesn’t understand why I follow my daily horoscope diligently. They center me when I feel lost. It’s the idea of finding answers to questions only a mother would know how to respond to.
Like . . . Don’t worry, the job is yours. It’ll be fine, maybe hectic at the beginning, but you got this. Be careful, things usually settle after you’ve been there for several days.
At least, that’s what I believe Mom would say if she were with me. I imagine her voice was sweet, calm, and loving. Lucas tells me the best stories about her. She made everyone around her feel as if they were special, loved. I wouldn’t know. Mom died when I was only a few months old. I don’t remember her. I recall her scent by recreating it. I use scented oils and the notes she left behind. Mom had many journals filled with so much love and knowledge. I also have letters she left. Of anyone, I think I know her best. She talks to me through her old words. Everyone misses her, except me. What’s there to miss?
Though I yearn for the person, I never met, and the conversations I missed—the milestones we never had. She didn’t hear me talk, or see me walk. I didn’t go to mommy and me playdates. There was no one to hold my hand and kiss my boo-boos when I fell off my bike. She wasn’t there when I had my first crush, nor to console me when the idiot broke my heart because he chose Ana instead of me.
We didn’t have much time together, but I know that she loved me. Often, I console myself with the old pictures of her holding me. Her green eyes stare at the pink bundle in her arms as if I was the most precious, little thing in the world. Her sun and her moon, Lucas says that’s what she used to call me.
Astrology is a prediction that doesn’t always come true. But like the journals of my mother, it gives me something to believe in, to hold on to when there’s so much turbulence around me. Having such a pragmatic career, I shouldn’t base my life in the perhaps factor—the notion of coincidence—but there’s something flattering about thinking that my entire destiny reflects on the stars. My fate is written by a cosmic energy that’s close to my mother. It all sounds crazy if I voice it, that’s why I don’t say it out loud. Only a few know that I read my daily horoscope from at least three different apps. I doubt anyone will ever understand that I allow myself to believe in magic.
Luna: It’s a gorgeous Monday morning in New York. I won’t allow you to tamper with what can be a wonderful, yet hectic day.
/> Lucas: You just told me you’re heading to your impending doom.
Luna: No, I said this might not work as well as I thought.
Luna: My horoscope says that people will demand more of me. I just know what to expect. What happened with Abue?
Lucas: Dear Papa didn’t tell her that you moved out. He said that you went on vacation. Good luck.
Luna: I adore our father, but sometimes I don’t like him.
Lucas: Aren’t you glad I got you a new phone number? She will find a way to communicate, though. Maybe you should deactivate your Facebook account.
Luna: I’m thrilled about this new venture but . . . I’ll miss you guys.
Lucas: It’s temporary, while we work through the shit going around. I think this is the best for you, we’ll keep an eye on you.
Lucas: Now don’t get mad, but I’m emailing you a second set of instructions. Tiago’s got your back.
Luna: Santiago? The guy who hates Dad’s guts, the FBI, and thinks he’s above the law?
Luna: Nope. I won’t take shit from him when it comes to my job.
Lucas: He’s well connected. We’re adding a layer to your cover.
Luna: What’s the layer?
Lucas: I’ll send you an email once you’re settled in to your new place.
Luna: Next time I see you, I’ll kick your ass.
Lucas: You are welcome to try. Just know that we’re doing this because we love you. We want you to be safe and have a good back up plan. We need to keep an eye on you.
I chuckle wondering how he’ll keep an eye on me. They continue treating me like the baby of the house. Neither Dad nor my brothers look at me as the thirty-one-year-old woman who can do the same as they can. I set my hands flat on the tray table taking a few breaths and feeling the stress slide down my back. Following the flight attendant’s instructions and gather everything together and put it in my purse. Now, I have to prepare for whatever my brothers decided to set up.
Five
Harrison
Two weeks later . . .
New York, hello my cruel mistress, I’m back. This is my city. The place I was born in and grew up in. The urban jungle I love because it has everything I always need a few blocks away. Though, I hate the crowded streets and the foul stench in the atmosphere. And the heat. Thank fuck summer is almost over. It’s the worst time of the year to be in this forsaken place, because of the heat. But also because that’s when we have more visitors. Tourists choose to vacation here from June through August. They are all sweating, yet smiling at their phones while they take thousands of selfies to share with their loved ones.
This is nasty, people. Why would you enjoy being here? Between perfume and the stench of the sewer, I’m gagging. Once I am out of the subway, I move along through the thick crowd. I’m several inches to a foot taller than everyone else. I see the bright shop signs, the towering skyscrapers, the accident that just happened between a cab and a limousine down on 53rd Street. At noon, the smell of the sewage and different food carts accompany me along the way until I am right in front of the high-rise where Tiago sent me to meet his sister.
Walking through the rotating door, I make my way to the elevators.
“Sir.” One of the rent-a-cops who works there stops me, his eyes take me in from head to toe. “We need to see your ID.”
Dropping my chin, I analyze today’s attire. Black clothing, a thick armor vest with lots of compartments. A few scars on my face and dried blood on my left hand. I chuckle. This man must think I am about to blow up the building. That’s not the case. This is my work uniform, and things sometimes get messy. We had a little incident in McAllen. Maybe I should’ve gone home to clean myself up before coming here.
At least he’s doing his job. Not that his “Sir, can I see your ID” would stop me if I planned on blowing up the building. I could’ve deactivated the CCTV, shot him as I entered, and gotten rid of every undercover cop. That’s it, new plan. We need to find Tiago’s sister a more secure hideout. Why would she be undercover and staying at a safe house? I have to look for answers and fast.
Giving in, I pull out my wallet and show him my identification. His back straightens and his eyes open wide.
“My apologies, sir.” He squares his shoulders, moving to the side. “Have a nice day.”
I smile, shaking my head. He should be fired. My fake FBI badge is easy to detect for an agent of the bureau. Maybe he’s just a security cop.. Making my way to the elevator bank, I take off my jacket. The air conditioning isn’t working well. What the fuck? The FBI should do some maintenance in their safe house.
Harrison: I arrived. What’s her apartment number?
Tiago: 22nd floor, apartment C
Harrison: Do you understand that releasing information as if this was a scavenger hunt is shitty?
Tiago: Just got that intel from my brother. Shall I remind you that we were off the grid?
Harrison: You have a brother? Fuck, what else is there to know? Is there a wife, children . . . What are you hiding? Years trusting my back to your skinny ass and you haven’t told me about this shit.
Tiago: There’s nothing else really. I have a brother and a sister. Same father, different mother. But if you want, we can organize a slumber party. Have a pillow fight in our pajamas and tell each other secrets.
Harrison: Fucker, you owe me.
He doesn’t answer, and I poke the elevator button one more time. I pull my phone out to check on my family. Hunter is out of town with his girlfriend, Fitz went to Japan to close on a deal, and Scott and I plan on having dinner later tonight. Hazel has been too busy to respond to my emails or my texts.
Harrison: How’s everything, bee? I’m home and ready to party. Are you available tonight?
Hazel: Hey, I missed you. Tonight isn’t good. We can talk after you have dinner with Scott.
Harrison: What happened?
Hazel: I’m not sure what you’re talking about.
Harrison: Hazel!
Hazel: It’s complicated, but everything is okay now.
I hold my breath. My gut clenches, worry freezing every muscle in my body.
Harrison: Hey, what’s going on with Hazel?
Scott: She’s fine. I’ll tell you later tonight. I’m going into a meeting.
Harrison: Why didn’t you call me?
Scott: If she needed you, she’d have called you.
What’s his fucking deal? I’ll find out later. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I step into the elevator. My phone buzzes, a sequence of multiple texts appearing at once.
Bradley: Enjoy the ride.
What the hell?
Hawk: Revenge tastes better when served HOT.
“Hold it, please.” A honey-like, melodious voice calls out to me.
Any other day, I would use my manners and stop the doors. Not today.
Bradley: Place your bets, gentlemen.
Hawk: One hundred says he’s going to complain in five.
Bradley: Have fun, Everhart.
“Are you deaf?” I lift my gaze, finding a woman using her hands while speaking to me. Hundreds of bangles adorn her arms, jingling as they clash against one another. Too much bling, sweetheart. She’s smiling. I swear rainbows ooze from her pores.
My gaze narrows, trying to understand whatever she’s doing with her hands. Wait, is she signing? I laugh, watching her ridiculous display. “No. Perfect hearing.”
She tilts her head to the side, her light-brown eyes framed with long eyelashes study me. They contrast perfectly with her olive skin and long, black, curly locks. My eyes relish her body. Working the flouncy, short dress, showing those long, toned, tanned legs. Chains and charms encircle her ankle. Going through security at the airport must be a pain in the ass with all those clingy things.
“Ah.” She nods once as if everything has become clear as the crystal hanging from her neck. “You’re one of those.”
“One of—” The elevator moves at a faster speed than usual heading up, then changing
directions. What’s going on?
Honey eyes look up to the panel, her index finger tapping the twenty-second floor. Where is she going? “Weird. It’s not illuminating the floors. Where are you going?”
Bradley: The timer is on.
Harrison: What the fuck?
Hawk: Smile for the camera, sweetheart.
I look up at the CCTV camera, flipping a finger. Fuckers, I mouth.
“Nowhere, sweetheart. We are going nowhere,” I blurt, switching my attention back to my phone.
Harrison: There’s a civilian here. Let her out and try this some other time.
Hawk: No. This is perfect.
Bradley: She’s bright, loud, and radiates sunshine. Just the way you hate them.
Hawk: Can you hear it? “. . . kumbaya my Lord, kumbaya.”
Those outside our circle wouldn’t understand our relationship. We are coworkers, friends, and brothers. We know our strengths as well as our weaknesses. It is true that I hate the heat, bright shit, and women who smile too much. Why are they so happy? What’s their agenda? Why fake that life is wonderful when it sucks?
Like this woman whose eyes are trying to suck me into her happy world. All those colorful charms and crystals she wears. They remind me of those kaleidoscopes Mom created for us to play with while she was in her art studio. This woman must be as disorganized as Mom.
Flaky.
Chaotic.
A convoluted mess.
I loved Mom dearly, but like my father, her disorganization drove me crazy.
“What do you mean we are going nowhere?” She frowns, chewing her lip. “Today is supposed to be a perfect day. One of those easy days where I can relax and smell the roses.”
She pulls a spritzer out of her purse and sprays a couple of times around her. “This is as close as you can get to flowers?” I ask her, sarcastically. She gives me a don’t judge me glare.
“Lilacs and lavender—New York stinks.” She scrunches her nose a second time.
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