The End of Lies: The Single Lady Spy 4 (The Single Lady Spy Series)

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The End of Lies: The Single Lady Spy 4 (The Single Lady Spy Series) Page 16

by Tara Brown


  “It’s not actually. He’s going to be here with Elise.” I slid the ring off and handed it to her. “Besides, I think the ring has a bug or a tracking device in it.”

  She slipped it on her finger and marveled at it.

  “Anyway, we might need to wrap my ribs extra tight. I’m dying and sucking back painkillers like they’re candy. I don't want to end up in liver failure before we end everything.”

  “All right.” She smirked, giving me back the ring. “Spanx it is then.”

  I laughed and we turned to the closet to pick clothes.

  It was going to be a weird night. I could already feel it.

  20

  D Goggles

  Sitting at the table in the stunning restaurant, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to pull this off. A duchess . . .

  Nevertheless, I didn’t recognize myself in the elevator. My cobalt-blue Stella McCartney backless evening gown, with a V in the front I would never wear, looked the part. My silky long blonde wig and bright-blue eyes were kind of freaky. I looked like Barbie’s mom but wearing Barbie’s clothes. The strange and terrible adhesive bra cups were torture to get on, but they helped my boobs appear less matronly. My ribs and mommy-tummy missed the fat-sucking-in Spanx that held everything in a streamlined way and lied about how many kids I had or didn’t have, but the dress made it impossible to wear so I opted for the boy short ones that lifted my bum cheeks perfectly. And my makeup job was impressive, even for CI standards. Mostly because Luce had helped a lot.

  Nonetheless, I was ready to burst from the room, not that I would get far in my lacey Louboutin pumps. They had the skinny heel, the one I hated, but Servario always ignored my protests about my back and hips.

  If he was watching, he was surely imagining all sorts of black and lacey underwear under the dress. I smirked, picturing the horror on his face if he saw the fat-sucking-in boy shorts underwear that went to my mid-thigh or the suction cup rubber boobies.

  I wanted him to see it. If we had a normal relationship I would screenshot it later from the hotel room and send it to him.

  As it was, I would have to rely on the fact he probably had surveillance in my bathroom.

  A young man, looking a lot like Jack, strolled into the dining room, dressed to the nines. Hot on his heels was the handsome maître d’ who had seated me.

  Jack's face screwed up into a scowl as he approached.

  “Monsieur.” The man scurried past him, pulled the chair out for him, and pushed him in when he sat. Another man in a lovely suit came hurrying over and began pouring us some champagne. I wasn’t sure who they were trying to impress more. A random duchess from England or Jacque Walter Éire Hollander. He was actual French royalty.

  “Hey, Jack.” I smiled with my eyes wide, hoping he’d recognize me.

  “Evie?” he leaned in, his cheeks blushing.

  “Pretty sure he wet his pants at how hot you look,” Luce joined the conversation in my ear. I hadn’t realized she was there. My earpiece had been silent since I put it on.

  “Luce!” Jack said too loudly, his cheeks getting warmer.

  “Oh shit, that’s the group chat.” Luce laughed with what sounded like Coop laughing in the background.

  “Anyway.” I lifted my glass at him. “How do I look?”

  “I wouldn’t have known you if my life depended on it. I would have died, gun to my head, and not picked you. Even your boobs are bigger.”

  “I’m ovulating,” I accidentally overshared but decided to roll with it.

  “Oh wow.” He shuddered. “You just killed it. You were super sexy for the two seconds I didn’t know you were Evie.”

  “I’m not.” I winked. “I’m Duchess Dorothea Cornwall of Kent.” I used my English accent.

  “How is that shit accent not getting better?” Luce muttered.

  “Shut it,” I mumbled and sipped the best tasting champagne I’d ever had.

  “Anyway, your disguise and now your legitimacy are set. People will believe you are who you say you are with me sitting here.” Jack leaned back, trying to appear casual. It wasn’t amazing.

  “Can you try to just be yourself? Like Jacque Walter Éire Hollander normal?” I asked.

  “I can. But you won’t like it. I could tell you were annoyed with me at the estate in Germany.”

  “I was fine. Just do it so no one thinks anything is weird. Act the way these people expect you to.”

  “Fine.” He lifted his drink at me. “Prepare for Jacque Walter Éire Hollander out of the house.” He chuckled and lost the nerdy Jack I adored.

  What replaced him was bossy and a little chauvinistic. He spoke French over my head and ordered for us. I didn’t understand half of what he said, and I was certain I didn’t want to understand the other half. I sat there playing the part of his pretty friend on display.

  Within the hour the restaurant got busier and Jack had visitors at the table who essentially ignored me. He would introduce me in French and continue the conversation without pausing.

  The three and a half hours we were there, he spent laughing, eating, and talking nonstop. He was always a gentleman, but I could tell he didn’t respect me. Perhaps, he wanted people to assume he was having dinner with me out of obligation. I was much older than he was. A friend of the family maybe.

  “Jesus,” Luce whispered in my ear as Jack continued telling someone about the pilgrimage he’d been on recently. His description of the event convinced me he’d gone. “I’m so wet right now. How hot is he all confident and bossy?”

  “Excuse me,” I interrupted and stood, forcing Jack to stand as well, but he didn’t stop talking as I left. “Gross, Luce.” I laughed and hurried to the washroom, lifting the burner phone my mom had given me from my black Louboutin clutch that matched my shoes.

  In the mirror I jumped, startled again by my appearance.

  “Man, I wish we could see Servario’s face when he realizes this is you,” she said into my earpiece.

  “Where is he?” I asked, pretending to be on the burner phone.

  “He’s been in the restaurant the whole time. They’re across the dining room; he’s with weirdo Elise. She’s being all demure and quiet. I don't get how she can be an agent and no one suspects her of shit. She’s dating S and no one questions how she was in a brothel and now on the arm of one of the most powerful men in the world.”

  “My impression is she served her time in the brothel because S put her there and then S rescued her. And now she’s grateful. I doubt anyone suspects she’s one of us, just the poor unfortunate daughter of a scientist who didn't behave. And S runs her shit. She is his so no one touches her.”

  “Ohhhhhhhh. So her agent status is totally hidden and everyone assumes S uses her as bait and a mole, and she's loyal because he decides if she lives or dies.”

  “As far as I’ve been able to discern.” I added more gloss over my lip stain. “Different subject though, this Lip Sense shit is amazing. It hasn't budged. Even with the weird food Jack ordered. I just ate a year’s worth of fat.”

  “I told you. My cousin’s been selling it for a year and she swears by it. And it matches the Russian Red perfectly.”

  “It’s pretty close.” I leaned in, rubbing my lips together.

  “You should walk by S and Elise and see if he recognizes you.” She laughed softly in my ear.

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure why I was doing this, playing these childish games, and yet I washed my hands and left the bathroom, clinging to my purse as she directed me.

  “Left instead of right to go back to your table. Play with your ring as you walk by, he'll notice. See them?”

  “Mmhmmm.” I walked right for them, noticing when his gaze lifted from Elise’s and his eyebrows furrowed. I offered a subtle wink as I sashayed past their table fingering the ring he'd given me, heading for mine.

  “Oh damn. That was epic. His stone face actually dropped for a second,” Luce chuckled into the phone.

  Jack, who was finally alone,
stared at me blankly for a moment when I arrived. His eyes widened and he jumped up. “Sorry, I was lost in thought there for a second.” He got my chair for me and pushed it in.

  “You didn't recognize me, did you?”

  “No.” His cheeks flushed. “Sorry, Evie.”

  “It’s okay.” I tried not to smile too wide.

  “Did you like dinner?”

  “It was interesting. I wouldn’t have tried any of it on my own. So thanks.” It was tasty and unique but not my kind of food. I was full from all the fat.

  “I tried to order meals I figured you wouldn't mind eating. No organs or anything like that.” He leaned in. “Can we go now?”

  “I think we can. Luce, is it all right if we leave and come to the room?”

  “Yup. Coop has everything loaded into your mom’s room for Jack, and I have all the important stuff in our room. But nothing that would make anyone who accidentally happened in there think anything.”

  “Perfect.” I gave Jack an inquisitively polite smile. “Shall we then?”

  “Let’s.” He got up and offered me his arm. I pushed my chair back and slid my hand in on his hard bicep. It was firmer than I imagined it to be. Not Coop firm, but also nothing to scoff at. Jack clearly worked out.

  “So you’re sharing a suite with my mom?” I made small talk as we strolled out of the restaurant.

  “I am. She is my great-aunt Carolyn if the world is wondering. She actually looks quite similar to my real great-aunt Carolyn. I’ve made sure my actual aunt is unavailable these next two weeks. She’s having some quiet time at a retreat.” The words sounded forced, and I assumed it was Jack’s polite way of saying she was either having a mental breakdown or plastic surgery. “My real aunt has early dementia so if anyone asks her about the gala and she doesn't recall, it won't be weird. And my family doesn’t read the papers for entertainment news. So no one will be the wiser.”

  “Excellent. And it isn’t weird you would share a suite?”

  “I’m an odd guy, Evie.” He glanced down on me with a wry grin.

  “At least you own it.”

  We rode the elevator to my floor where he kissed my hand like a gentleman and left me at my door.

  “Have a wonderful evening, Duchess.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hollander.” I leaned in and pressed my glossy lips on his soft cheek. He smelled good. He pulled back, his cheek shimmering in the dim lighting of the hallway.

  I opened my door and offered a slight wave as I closed it.

  With a sigh I considered stripping and putting on my PJs, but I had to act the part. I strolled through the apartment to the upper terrace where the pool was and stood out in the soft blue lighting, overlooking the city and water. I made sure if anyone was observing me, they saw a lonely looking duchess in a stunning gown.

  Luce came up onto the deck, carrying a silver tray with a single glass of champagne and wearing a strange outfit: dress pants, a white dress shirt, and a navy-colored vest. Her hair was pulled tight into a bun and she didn't appear to have on any makeup.

  “Duchess.” She offered me the drink.

  “Thanks.” I sipped it, not needing to pretend to be enraptured by the view. “This is incredible.”

  “Absolutely stunning. It amazes me that people live like this.”

  “I know. I swear it’s a dream.” I sipped the champagne, savoring the taste.

  “Would you like to swim?”

  “No. Thanks.” We were wooden. I assumed it meant we were being watched. “I’m tired from the flight and full from the fatty meal.” I forced a yawn and stretched a little, as far as my injuries would allow.

  She turned and I followed her in, both of us silent. As the door closed, Jack spoke in my ear, “The cameras that have a view into the room and onto the terraces have been hijacked by me while Luce set up. Walk around the suite, sit on the sofas and lie on the beds. Each location has an article of clothing for you to change into. There are books placed there, pick them up and read. Sip from the cups. I want to make a montage of you in this place.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll make a video of the footage we take and play it on a huge loop, making your rooms invisible to the cameras. Your mom’s room is done as well.”

  “Oh sorry, Jack,” Simone’s little voice popped into my ear, “I just came into the conversation now. I should have said something. I’ve already created a virus in the security system in the hotel, the casino, and the surrounding CCTV in the city to immediately delete any footage or data with any of your faces from now on. You will be ghosts. Any footage with you in it will be deleted instantly,” Simone spoke softly. “And I’ve also made sure there isn’t a single camera pointing in the direction of the rooms. They’re just off enough that no one should notice the difference, but they won’t record that area.”

  “That’s smart,” I answered back.

  “That is smart,” Jack grumbled.

  “Fucking genius,” Luce offered as she came into the bedroom where I sat on the edge of the bed. She was no longer dressed as my little servant. “Thanks, Simone.”

  “Oh, no problem.”

  “Anyway, Coop is here with me in your mom’s room, Evie,” Jack changed the subject. “Servario is at a poker game with some super-unsavory people. Elise was headed for her room the last time I picked her up.” Jack’s tone seemed a little bitter.

  “I can’t believe the hotel records the rooms.” I peered around.

  “They don't, but they record all hallways and public areas. And multiple CCTVs can see the rooms with all the windows and the terraces. Better for them to see you the way we want you to be seen.”

  “Or not seen at all,” Simone said.

  “Right,” he agreed but it sounded painful. Her idea was genius.

  “Who’s at this poker game?” I asked, curious.

  “Organization members. Eight of them including S. CCTV throughout the city has picked up ten others we’re looking for so far. Not including the eight at this game. The key members are starting to filter in. The gala is a couple of days away, I imagine most will show the day before. Let’s have a meeting in an hour in Helena’s to discuss the end game once more and do a system check.”

  “Okay.” I pulled out my earpiece and turned to Luce. “Do I have to go to the meeting as the duchess?”

  “You should do everything as the duchess.” She sat next to me. “Are we going to talk about Elise and S or is that something you’re going to suffer through in silence?” She tapped the red ring on my finger.

  “Honestly, I don't know what to say. I mean we’re saving the world. Ending a reign of terror. Killing off every bad guy we can think of. Is that really the time to feel sorry for myself because I’m a hot mess who made an impossible bed to lie in by falling for two guys, one of which is impossible to love or resist?”

  “At least you’re self-aware.” She patted my leg. “I’m gonna be super real for a minute. It’s gonna hurt but you need it. The S thing is a fantasy we have been caught up in. He’s sex on a stick. I can’t imagine how impressive that entire package is and how dirty the sex gets, but the real issue here is that you’re a mom and you have kids. And you need to be able to bring whoever you’re dating home and let them be around your kids like a normal dude, not some drug-dealing international playboy. You can’t be darting off, leaving your kids all the time. You know that, right? Once this is over, we’re going back to the misinformation game. And probably office jobs for a while in case we’re hot.”

  “I know.” The truth hurt.

  “And we both know you have to break things off with him for good and make this decision with a sound mind, not the D goggles you’ve been wearing.”

  “D goggles?”

  “The dick. He’s got you mesmerized, and you’re making decisions under the influence of dick, good dick. That can fuck up a girl’s mind.”

  It took me several seconds to comprehend what she was saying before I burst out laughing. I hugged her and nodded. “I
do have D goggles. I’m under the influence.”

  “Girl, I know. He’s got Jedi dick mojo going on, making you do things you wouldn't normally do. Messing with your common sense and shit. Got you acting crazy, but it’s just the addiction. You need some rehab, some time away. Your head will clear once you get all that dick out of ya.” She laughed and hugged me back. “Four seasons.”

  It was the truth. The sad truth.

  I was addicted to him.

  An addiction I wasn't sure I would be able to break. Or if I wanted to.

  But she was right, the end was nigh. For my kids.

  21

  Et tu, Brute?

  Mom gave me another strange stare from the sofa in her suite’s living room. “I can’t believe that’s you. It’s almost horrifying to say this since I am your mother, but you are much prettier with blonde hair and blue eyes. Sort of sweet looking.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mom,” I said bitterly. “Anyway.” I turned to Jack.

  “Anyway, the explosion is going to be similar to an implosion bomb that a construction company would use to bring down a building. We will try to control the blast to save as many lives elsewhere in the building, while at the same time expend as much energy within the blast area as we can. We want everyone inside the space to die and then bring the interior of that room down on itself so the explosion doesn't send too many shockwaves or flying debris.” Jack glanced at Coop who was chewing his lip and scowling; classic Coop-face for not sure this is a good idea. “What?” Jack asked.

  “How are we going to put C-4, TNT, and nitro into the room, wired no less, with no one noticing it?”

  Jack’s lips curled into a grin. “Ye of little faith.” He laughed maniacally and the glint in his eyes suggested he wasn't going to tell us, maybe just surprise us.

  Luce’s expression twisted slightly, becoming an uncertain nose wrinkling, similar to what I felt on my own face.

 

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