“Yes, sir.” She scrambled to get out of the way, certainly not willing to get into the middle of whatever discussion came next. Wise woman.
“So, Eli. It’s about time you date.”
“Don’t start. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going through with it.”
“Two years have passed since you buried Peggy. You have to move on with your life, and I’m all for it. Let me be the first to say your lack of a social life has turned you into a bear.”
“I don’t agree. I’m the same person I was before Peggy died.”
“Bullshit, Eli. You measure what little crap you have sitting on your desk, so you can ream the charge of quarters in the morning, for Christ’s sake. And don’t even pretend you don’t. I’ve seen you with that goddamned ruler doing it. Worse, the staff calls you the beast behind your back.” Tom nodded toward Eli’s office. “Let’s go inside and chat somewhere private.”
“I have too much to do.”
“Don’t make me pull rank.”
He grumbled under his breath and stepped past Major General Gilbert and into his office, outranked and outmatched. He immediately spotted the mail in question sitting on his desk in a large manila envelope. Eli swallowed. He’d changed his mind a few nights ago and planned to tell his godson he couldn’t find a date. People went stag to these functions all the time and, well, they’d just have to deal with it.
Tom shut the door and turned around, leaning back against the hard surface. “I’m worried about you, Eli. You’ve lost weight. You snap at everyone, are angry all the time, and when was the last time you got laid?”
“With all due respect, that’s none of your business.”
“Peggy fought cancer for three years before she passed, and you haven’t seen anyone since you buried her. I’d say around five years—a hell of a long time for a man to go without a piece of ass. Since I’m the only one who can tell you this, I’m just going to come out and say it. If that rather large envelope on your desk contains information on an arranged date, I’m ordering you to keep it. It will do you good to get out and live a little.”
“You can’t order me to go out with a woman.” Eli gave his friend a crusty look. Somewhere, there was a regulation against being forced to keep a date. JAG could help him find it if Tom pushed this ridiculous notion.
“I can do anything I damn well please. This is my post.”
“Please, let it be.”
“Not this time. I’m sick of people complaining about your temper tantrums. You sent the entire division artillery out to the field for two months on a training exercise, all because their commander just happened to ask you how you’ve been lately. This will be good for you. I’m not saying you’ve got to sleep with the woman, but you are going on the date.”
“Well, it’s going to be hard to enforce the order, since the date is in Massachusetts.”
“It’s a good thing I also received an invitation to your godson’s inaugural ball, with instructions to make sure you bring someone female with you. He’s worried about you, too.” Tom smiled again. “Besides, we requested a warm-up date, before the party, to get you used to the idea.”
“A what? We? So, you knew about it all along.” It seemed like everyone conspired against him. Eli plopped down in a chair and massaged his temples. “Maybe I’m happy being alone. You ever think of that?”
“You’re not happy. It would take a moron not to see it. In fact, I heard the whole conversation between you and your aide and spoke with her after you went home. We got on the computer and filled out the application for a 1Night Stand.”
“What! A one night, what?” Holy hell. One-night stands were not behavior a general should engage in. Tom knew this. They were to lead by example at all times.
“Indeed. I even requested the kind of woman I think would rock your world. We’ve been friends too long for me not to know what kind of lady flips your switch.”
“You can’t do that!” Eli jumped back to his feet and began to pace, suddenly feeling like a caged animal. Cursing under his breath. How could his one friend do this to him?
“I can—and I did. So, I also made a special request to this Madame Eve.”
Eli froze mid-step. “Did you just say Madam? As in a woman who runs a cathouse?”
“No, I said Madame Eve, as in a Frenchwoman who runs an exclusive dating service. Give me a little credit, Eli. I wouldn’t set you up with a call girl.”
“Whatever—it’s still a one-night stand.”
“Only if you both want it to be, and it’s all confidential.”
“You know about it, Winters knows about it. This Eve knows about it. What part of this ‘exclusive dating service’ is private?”
“All of it. Nobody else knows this is an arranged date. Madame Eve is world-renowned for her matchmaking skills. So, at least open the envelope and see who she’s set you up with. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“You just said you made a special request. Do I dare ask what?”
“I asked her to make sure whomever she set you up with is willing to come to the post as a guest for the day, before your date, and experience all the military life can offer. She, of course, will be escorted the whole time for security purposes, but I felt you’d need to know if she’d be comfortable in your world—that it would be important to you.”
“It’s going to be one date—she doesn’t have to be comfortable in my world.”
“Actually, I think, if this Madame Eve is as good as everyone says she is, it will become more than a single date. Tell you what. I have so much faith in this woman’s matchmaking skills, I won’t hold you to a second date. If it doesn’t work out, and you still want to go stag to your godson’s party, I won’t stand in your way. In fact, I won’t bother you again about seeing another woman.”
“So, if she comes here and can’t cut the mustard, I don’t have to drag her to the ball, and you won’t nag me about finding a woman ever again? You’ll stay the hell out of my personal life?”
“You got it.”
“Well then.” He picked up the envelope, certain whatever information it held would prove to be his excuse to go solo. “Let’s see who this master matchmaker picked for me. I seriously doubt she could find the perfect woman. You are going to eat your words.”
“You might be surprised.” Tom stepped away from the door, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and rocked back on his heels, staring at the packet in Eli’s hands. “Open it already.”
“Right.” He broke the seal and pulled out a stack of papers. On top sat a glossy photo of a stunning woman—one he’d lusted after before he’d married Peggy. A woman who caused every red-blooded male in America to suffer from a hard-on after her centerfold in a wet, white bikini hit the newsstands in the eighties. “Shit.” Eli dropped the entire pile, scattering papers all over his floor. “Anya Volkov.” She’d made the Cold War hot. He looked up and swallowed. “She’s set me up with the Anya Volkov.”
“Whoo hoo! Jackpot. I told you so.” Tom clapped him on the back. “Kudos to this Madame Eve. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dumbfounded.”
“Doesn’t mean she can fit into a military life. She’s Russian, for Christ’s sake.”
“She’s American, and the Cold War ended a long time ago. As I told you, she’ll be escorted everywhere on post, as a guest, of course, so what’s the issue?”
“Whatever you say.” Eli smirked and snatched her picture off the floor. “So, she wants to date a military man....” He eyed her image. “I’ll give her a military man.”
“You can’t do anything to intentionally run her off. Whatever you do on your date has to be something you would have done with Peggy in the past. If you don’t agree, the deal is off.”
“Not a problem.” Eli fully smiled now. Peggy had run triathlons, mastered competitive obstacle courses, sky dived, rock climbed, loved hunting, and held a black belt in mixed martial arts, and they’d done it all together. In his opinion, the qualifier left the door wid
e open to try some pretty interesting things. If his date couldn’t keep up, then Madame Eve was a big fraud.
“Let’s make things even more interesting.” Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Put up or shut up.” He retrieved ten one hundred dollar bills. “If she can’t handle it, or you—you can keep the wad of money in my hand.” He shook the bills in front of Eli. “But, if she hurdles everything you throw at her—and can endure your less than stellar company, then you have to take her to the ball, and you have to do it with a smile—and be a gentleman.”
Tom reached out, waiting for him to shake on it. Eli grasped his hand and shook. “Deal.” His date would start in three days, at oh six hundred for PT, physical training, followed by a trip to the confidence course and firing range. If she could handle a regular day in the life of a soldier, he’d take her to the prearranged dinner and wrap the date up one way or the other—hopefully the other, as the one-night stand implied, but only if she survived the pre-date. No wimps for him. Hell, if she made it, he’d let her pick whatever she wanted to do during the evening—if she didn’t like what this Eve arranged.
Yes, she was a damned fine-looking woman, but she couldn’t replace his Peggy. At first, the photo threw him, but Eli knew a spoiled princess when he saw one, and the Ruskie had it written all over her. High maintenance. She wouldn’t last an hour. Money in the bank.
***
Anya’s phone rang. “Hello.”
“My name is Lieutenant Elizabeth Winters. I’ll be picking you up for your date with General Eli Wells tomorrow morning and wanted to get the name of the hotel you’re staying at. I plan to be there about oh-five-hundred or five a.m.”
“Morning?” Didn’t she apply for a one-night stand? Night being the keyword there. Madame Eve’s letter told her to go with it, whatever her date planned, whatever time he planned it.
“Your date starts at oh-six-hundred—on post.”
Well, she did ask for a man in uniform, and it wouldn’t be the first time she needed to be flexible. So, she’d go with it like she always did. “What should I wear?”
“All your clothing for the day will be provided, but I need to get your shoe, pant, and shirt sizes so I can have them ready for you. General Wells has planned several activities for the morning. He told me to let you know your evening will be your choice—regardless what the dating service arranged. But, he would like to take the day and give you a taste of his...world.”
Anya smiled. The man had no clue just how much of his world she’d experienced in the past—and more. Certainly a little chest thumping going on there, and she could handle the testosterone-saturated environment. It would be hard to throw anything at her she couldn’t. “Not a problem. I’m usually up early anyway.” She’d have to skip her morning run, part of a schedule she’d stuck to with religious fervor since the age of sixteen, when she’d started to develop a little too much curve on her figure. Once wouldn’t kill her. Maybe they’d do something physical on their date—laser tag, a nice hike.
“I’m staying at the Castillo Resort right off Lake Ontario. I will meet you in the lobby.” Anya wanted to apologize for booking a room so far off post, but Watertown had a gritty military feel, wild and geared toward a younger crowd. Much, much younger. No longer a part of that crowd, she preferred to enjoy the fruits of her labors in a more mature fashion, starting with the most posh lodging she could book. The peaceful shores of Lake Ontario proved to be a great choice.
The hotel catered to a more select crowd, looking to enjoy the Great Lakes and some of the backcountry in upstate New York, without overdoing the wild outdoor experience.
A city girl by nature, the resort offered sophistication in the wilderness, something Anya could afford and, over the years, had come to expect. Hopefully the drive wouldn’t be too far out of the lieutenant’s way.
“Very good. Now if I can get your clothing sizes...?” Anya gave her the numbers she sought, not in the least bit embarrassed she’d gone up a size from her early modeling days. She still looked good for her age.
“Okay, I think I’ve got everything I need. I’ll see you bright and early, Ms. Volkov.”
“Da. Have a good evening.” Her grand adventure was about to start. She’d yet to see a picture of him, or hear his voice, but, so far, he sounded like a man she could really sink her teeth into. In uniform, a commanding presence—someone who would challenge her. How long since she’d met a man who could do that? Now, what did he look like? She tapped her nails on her chin and smiled. She could call her former boss and have a photo within an hour, but why spoil the surprise, and did it matter? She was already excited about his unorthodox approach to dating, and she knew one thing for certain—it sure wouldn’t be boring.
The phone rang at four a.m.—her wakeup call. Anya knocked the receiver off the hook. She’d gotten very little sleep the night before her mind going haywire with the possibilities of what they could do on a military base on their date. A lot of time had passed since she stepped onto a government installation.
Maybe they’d go to the range. She’d learned her gun skills from her father, a competition shooter who held world records for his skill with a rifle. She’d enjoyed shooting with him on the weekends until his death, right before her twentieth birthday—when the CIA recruited her as an operative.
Of course, the last time she fired a weapon she worked for the government. But it didn’t mean she didn’t want to squeeze off a few rounds. Visiting the rifle range was just another thing she’d missed out on by sacrificing her life for her career.
Whatever they were doing, the young woman on the phone said her clothing would be provided, which seemed kind of odd, but not out of her realm of experience. As a model, she always wore somebody else’s clothes. As an operative—she always became somebody else. However, it didn’t mean she planned to show up for her date dressed like a ragbag. A good first impression could be worth more than gold. Anya yanked a miniskirt from the closet, a silk blouse to complement it, and a pair of heels—not too tall, not too short. She only needed to add some flash she’d tucked into her handbag, and she could go from casual date to formal in the blink of an eye. She liked to be prepared for every situation, as all good models and spooks were.
She walked into the bathroom, tied her dark tresses in a knot at her nape, and put on her day make-up, taking care to choose something waterproof, should the activity be a bit more vigorous. No excuse to look like a slob. Ever.
After she’d dressed and primped enough to look good, but not desperate, she headed for the lobby. Outside, a woman in a dress uniform stood next to a BMW. The top was up, but she certainly didn’t expect it to be down at this hour although she would have enjoyed the wind in her hair. The July night off the lake had proved to be quite hot and sticky.
As she approached, the woman opened the door and smiled. Anya slid into her seat and pulled the belt across her chest, clicking it into place. She took a deep breath and calmed the nerves creeping up.
Lieutenant Winters joined her in the vehicle. Anya smiled and turned toward her. “I know this is a bit of an odd request, but can we put the roof down?”
“I’d love to.” The young woman unlocked the top and hit a button, retracting the roof into a space behind the back seat. “General doesn’t usually send me with his car, but when he does, I love to drive with it open like this. I didn’t think you’d want it, so….”
“I love the wind in my hair.” She lifted a brow. “So, what are we doing today?”
“I’m not supposed to disclose.”
“Not even a tiny detail?”
“Let’s just say, you’re going to get a big dose of the military.” The young officer started the car and put it in gear. “I do want to ask you a favor though.”
“What?”
“Be gentle. He comes across as a grumpy, snarling man, but he lost his wife two years ago and hasn’t quite gotten over it. I believe you are what he needs, so don’t let his barking scare you away. In
side the beast is a big teddy bear who needs the right woman to set him free. Trust me when I say this—he’s going to test you. Be up for the challenge, and he’s all yours.”
Butterflies danced in her stomach, much like her pre-mission jitters of the past, but this time they were all about her excitement and had little to do with jumping feet first into danger. A smiled worked its way onto her face. “Well, I’ve always loved a challenge.”
“Trust me, Ms. Volkov, he’s all that and a bag of chips.” They pulled out of the lot and onto the highway.
Chapter Three
Eli paced in his office, wearing down the carpet pile. Maybe he should change his plans and just stick with the program—go to dinner, do the regular date thing. The woman looked like a goddess, and he’d be an idiot to do what he’d planned to do—run her off so he could continue to wallow in misery.
Did he really want things to stay the same? Every night he went home to an empty house, watched a little television, popped a prepackaged meal in the microwave, and held a pity-party for one. Nobody would want to live that way, so why did he cling to his current lifestyle like he did? Why test her? Why push this and send her fleeing in fear? Had he gotten so bitter he couldn’t take the time to enjoy her company?
Still....
He stopped and picked up the picture of his wife and himself on his desk. “She’ll never replace you, honey, but I’m so lonely. Tom’s right. I need someone, if only for a little bit.” “I love you so much, and miss you like you wouldn’t believe. I’m not doing this because I want to forget you. You will always be in my heart. But I need to ask you a favor. If she’s the right one for me, and this is okay with you, would you talk to the big guy up there and send a little divine intervention my way so I don’t make a big ass out of myself? Sure could use the help.”
The clouds took that moment to part and let a beam of morning sun through, shining directly on the picture of Anya, lying on his desk. Outside, the cannon fired and reveille began to play. A signal to start the day—or, in his case, a new chapter of his life.
Beauty and the Brigadier Page 2