EasterSpice

by Cynnamon Foster

  My doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts and reminiscences. I tried not to be annoyed. Sam was right on time. That was one of the things I loved about him, but I had no idea why he refused to use his key.

  He greeted me with a big smile and kissed me before I could even say hello.

  “You could have used your key,” I said, practicing the accent I was to use. Fortunately, according to my trainer, I had a good ear. It had taken me less than two weeks to be passable. Sam grinned at me. He smelled wonderful, as usual.

  “I could have, but I don’t want to take you for granted. Are you packed yet?” He followed me to the interior of my apartment.

  I shook my head. “Don’t be silly. You practically live here.”

  He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me from behind. My heart skipped a beat. “Practically isn’t the same as living here. Have you tried to see what was going on yet?” We could use the technology in Seria’s jewel to spy what was happening on the ground in India.

  I ignored his barb. I was reluctant to have one of us give up our private space just yet. I still felt as if there were things about Sam I wasn’t sure I wanted to know yet. “I was just getting ready to take a look. You can join me.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. I’m curious to see how Miss Elisheba is doing. She’s an outsider. I imagine it to be an interesting challenge for her to get the other people in the office to start trusting her.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, blending in has never really been her thing.” Sam trailed me back to the table where I’d been going through the information Reed had given me. I wiggled my mouse, then signed into the system. My screen went dark, then white, and then, suddenly, I felt as if I was in a boat rocking back and forth.

  “Whoa,” Sam said. “Feels like I’ve been drinking.”

  It took a minute, but I finally realized that we’d tuned into Seria walking down the hallway. It felt as if an amateur videographer was taking bad video.

  “I didn’t know this was live.”

  Sam turned serious. He was as curious as I was. “I don’t think it is. I think it stores in twelve-hour intervals though.”

  I checked the counter on the upper right-hand corner of the screen. “So this is…”

  “Exactly twelve hours ago. Like DVR.”

  We both leaned closer.

  Every few seconds, the screen jiggled. “I think she’s nodding at people as she walks or something. And I’m guessing this is the interior of the office.”

  Sam agreed. “I think it is. This is great for you. You’ll be working in there too. I can’t remember an assignment where I got to see anything other than a picture of the job site before I got there. Most times, not even that. And with people there, you’ll be able to put things in perspective better.”

  I knew what he meant. It was hard to tell how big a room was from a picture, or when it was empty. This way, I could get a perspective on the true size of the space before I even set foot in it.

  Elisheba rounded a corner, and the narrow hallway she’d been traveling opened up into a cavernous room with a sea of desks. The picture was fuzzy. I jiggled the mouse to try to fix it.

  “I think it’s just low lighting,” Sam said. “Last time I was in India, the lighting was low and the buildings and everything else just look used. They didn’t seem to be into sprucing up. Of course, I was in a different building, but it was nothing like the office buildings we’re used to. It’s all so…industrial.”

  “Makes everything look dingy. Or like a dark soap opera.” A door with a figure of a woman appeared in front of where Elisheba was looking. “We’re not going to see her pee, are we?”

  Sam laughed. “I hope not. I think she can turn it off for short periods. Let’s hope she remembered.”

  Instead of heading for a stall, Elisheba went to the mirror. I gasped as I looked into her eyes. “Okay, that is spooky,” I said. “It’s like we’re looking face-to-face.”

  Sam agreed with me, and I was riveted. I stared into Seria-turned-Elisheba’s eyes. For a minute, I felt a pang of missing her. Although it looked as if she was looking at me, she was staring at herself. I got the distinct feeling that she couldn’t believe what she was seeing either.

  The bathroom door clanged and she jumped, startled. Another woman joined her. Elisheba turned away from the mirror, and the other woman did that funky thing they do with their necks, not quite a nod, but more like a bobble. Elisheba didn’t speak, but our picture shimmered as if she’d nodded back or something. “Are they going to talk?”

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Remember, she may look sort of Indian, but she is still an outsider.”

  Our screen switched scenes, and then we were looking at a desk. She’d obviously turned the camera off and made her way back to her desk before the blackout timed out. She was standing, and work boots were sticking out from under her desk. The sound was muffled, but from what I could tell, she was speaking to the owner of the boots.

  A man stood, his head emerging from underneath the desk, and I blinked. His longish hair flopped down across his eyes and he swept it away with the back of his hand. He was gorgeous. If Sam hadn’t been sitting next to me, I would be sweating. I’d bet Elisheba was melting.

  Sam interrupted my thoughts, scowling. “She’d better be wondering what he was doing under her desk.”

  “I know what she wishes he were doing—”

  “Dez, this is serious.” His voice was stern.

  The man spoke a few words I couldn’t understand, then went back under the desk, leaving his ass sticking out this time. I couldn’t help but notice it was a particularly good one. I couldn’t have torn my eyes away if I’d wanted to. If I had been there, I would have placed a hand on each of his cheeks and squeezed. My panties immediately got damp at the thought. If I was affected like this, I could only imagine what Elisheba had felt. She was there, as opposed to the other side of the world like I was.

  The worker finished, then left. Elisheba sat in her chair, then rolled toward her computer screen. Instead of turning it on, she unlocked and opened her desk drawer. We watched as she dug in her purse, then pulled out a small, metal egg-shaped object.

  Sam gasped. “She isn’t going to use that at her desk, is she?”

  Sweat beads popped onto my forehead. Before I could answer, Elisheba ran her hand under her tunic. When it came out, the vibrator was gone. “Well, it looks like she is. I guess our girl is still a sex addict.”

  * * * * *

  For some reason, I’d thought that once I got the big fancy job, I’d be flying all over the world on fancy, private planes, but I was wrong. Sam and I had boarded an American Airlines flight from Austin to Dallas crammed in with all the other ordinary passengers. We were just like them, so much so in fact, that we both had middle seats across the aisle from each other. Sam was luckier than I was. While he got to sit with a little girl on one side and a small Asian woman on the other, I was smashed in between two cowboys who looked as if they’d both eaten their own cattle, and one of them smelled as if he’d just come back from wrangling. I had no choice but to sit straight up and even lean forward so that my forehead almost touched the seat in front of me. The upside was that sitting in this position made it easier for me to glare at Sam.

  The chime sounded that indicated that we could take off our seat belts, and the cabin lights came on. Everyone, including us, jumped to our feet. As far as anyone else could tell, we were just two ordinary passengers on one of the dozens of commuter flights from one Texas city to another.

  Sam tried to make eye contact with me, but I ignored him. I was still mulling over the prospect of working with Seria, and I wasn’t in the mood to talk. We stepped into the aisle at the same time and I opened my overhead bin. Sam automatically reached up to get my Louis Vuitton roll-aboard bag for me at the same time I did and our hands touched. “Sorry,” I said.

  “Are you okay, Desiree?”

  I shrugged. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure about anything. I was flying half
way across the world to a country that, as far as I knew, was filled with filth, beggars and monkeys dancing in the streets, not to mention being forced into working with a woman with deep-seated problems and sexual proclivities I’d never even heard of. On top of that, she used to be my friend and knew almost every secret I had.

  “Second thoughts?” Our eyes met again and Sam smiled at me warmly. “It’s okay, I have them all the time. After this assignment, you know you can get out at any time.”

  Somehow, I wasn’t so sure. After all the time and training they’d put into me, not to mention the fat paycheck, I couldn’t fathom walking away was going to be so easy. And then I would get a bonus with a lot of zeros attached if I stayed a year. I could do anything for a year. I needed that money. In my head, the Louis Vuitton suitcase was just the beginning. No way in hell I was walking before everyone, including my banker, told me how fancy I’d become. I might not have finished college, but I was no dummy.

  It took a good twenty minutes to get off the plane, the longest twenty minutes I’d ever experienced. As soon as we got to the end of the jetway, we were approached by a tall, attractive man in a suit that had obviously been tailored to fit his body. I’d read fashion magazines all my life and certainly knew the difference between J. Crew and a bespoke-level suit. Most men, straight or otherwise, knew nothing about tailoring at this level. This man’s suit fit him like Sam’s hand fit my ass. I could see his muscles ripple through the material as he moved. He made eye contact with Sam and nodded, then reached for both our bags.

  I was mesmerized, my mouth damn near watering, until he reached for my Louis. I snatched it away. “Wait, just a minute.” I’d spent a month of my old data entry paycheck to get that bag. I never checked it, I never lent it, and damn sure never gave it to a stranger to carry, even if I now made more than four times what I used to.

  San touched my forearm and nodded. “Procedure,” he said.

  I leaned into him and whispered. “We have to make our connection.”

  He shook his head. “Our connection will wait for us. Give him your tickets.”

  My eyebrows shot toward the sky. Was he crazy? He might convince me to hand over my bag, but my tickets? “Really?”

  “We didn’t tell you this because the less you know the better. Just do as I do.” Sam reached into the pocket on the front of his small bag, produced the folder that held his airline tickets, and handed them to the man. Reluctantly, I did the same. In return, he handed each of us a lanyard with an access badge on the end, then reached again for my bag. He never said anything else. Instead, he turned and walked away. I tried to follow, but Sam stopped me again and shook his head. We waited while the man walked down the halls of DFW, then turned a corner and disappeared.

  “So much for always keeping your bags in your possession. I kind of need the stuff in there.” I tried my best to not sound as if I was whining, but inside, I was crying like a two-year-old.

  “Don’t worry, all your stuff will be waiting for you at our final destination. Follow me.”

  “I’m a little confused. Why does it seem like there’s so much I don’t know? I feel like I’m on the outside of things. First the news about Seria, and now this? This is bullshit and you know it.”

  Sam stepped to the side of the hallway, pulling me with him. “You’re going to have to keep your voice down,” he said. “This is not an east Austin mall.”

  That smarted. Why did he think he had to compare something to a down-home reference for me to understand? Sam managed to piss me off and turn me on, all in the same paragraph.

  “This is the way it’s done. We’re told what we need to know in increments, as we need to know it. That way, if we run into trouble, we only have a limited amount of information to give away. Trust me. Where we’re going is much better than transferring to another commercial flight, flying with chickens and other animals, and eating standard preformed food for I don’t know how many days.” There was a glint in his eye.

  My feelings were hurt, but I followed Sam through the massive airport and out a door I was pretty sure normal passengers didn’t walk through. I found myself descending metal see-through steps outside the airplane terminal. I looked up and behind me as we hit the tarmac and I gasped. I’d never seen a terminal from this angle. No one even blinked an eye at us. So much for security. It was hard to believe that in this time of terrorists and jihadists it was so easy to gain access to a supposedly secured and off-limits area. A golf cart-like vehicle waited for us. The driver didn’t even look in our direction. Sam knocked on the metal side as we stepped on and the driver took off like a bat out of hell. It was all I could do to grab onto the metal railing over my head to keep from tumbling out. I was already having a bad hair day and didn’t want it to get any worse because I’d been dragged along the ground.

  We sped off across the tarmac, coming too close to planes for my taste. They were much bigger when you were underneath them. My mind raced and I tried to keep my calm, holding my breath as the fumes from the jet fuel stung my nose.

  My face was wind-burned by the time we rolled into an airplane hangar that seemed to be clear on the other side of the airport. There were no commercial planes on this side, just cargo planes from FedEx and DHL, and a few military helicopters. A huge sliding door closed behind us as our driver maneuvered his way across the busy floor toward a jet parked toward the rear of the hangar. The vehicle whirred to a stop, but I didn’t move. I could feel Sam’s eyes on my face. He jumped from the golf cart.

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen a G6 before?”

  I hadn’t, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. Hell. I’d only been on a commercial jet three times in my lifetime. “G6?” I’d heard about a G6 in a song that was always on the radio, but I had no idea they were even real, much less that I’d be getting on one. What was not to like about my job?

  He extended his hand to help me down and I took it, letting him guide me toward the steps of the aircraft. “Yes. This, my dear, is our ride.” He looped his arm through mine and was suddenly the charming Sam Comfort again, the man I’d fallen for back when he supposedly worked in a mailroom and had a very good and very fake Southern accent. “You didn’t think we were going to fly all the way there crammed into coach, did you?”

  “I try not to think anything. Isn’t that what you said I should do? Not form any opinions based on preconceived notions?” Sam had told me that when they first tried to get me to join the agency.

  He smiled.

  He let me go first. I walked slowly, but deliberately, up the steps, then tried not to gasp as I climbed aboard. The interior of the plane was all white and looked better than any private plane I’d seen on TV. “Now this is what I call a spy plane.” I looked around and took it all in. If a plane could be beautiful, this one was. It looked more like a yacht than an aircraft. Everywhere I looked, there was burl wood and white leather, and the plush chairs in front of me obviously swiveled. I would try not to act as if I was ten and spin around in them. Maybe. Joyfully, I gave up all pretenses of keeping my cool and slid into the seat nearest me. Sam grinned too. Hell, we were both fancy now.

  Chapter Four

  Sam

  She didn’t need to know that this was out of the ordinary. Desiree would find out later, much later. For now, she wanted to believe our jobs were sexy, like on television, and I saw nothing wrong with letting her think that, at least for a while. I had a few people who owed me some favors and I’d called them all in to score a ride in the G6. The agency only used that plane for dignitaries, and I didn’t qualify as one, not quite.

  The flight attendant served Dez some champagne and winked at me. This was going over well. Desiree squealed as she slid into the seat.

  “You like?”

  She nodded. My surprise had made her happier than, for lack of a better description, a pig in shit. Reed would be furious with me, I knew that, but I could deal with him later. In the meantime, I had at least fourteen hours in the air with a bea
utiful woman who I couldn’t stop thinking about. Fourteen hours on a plane with just the two of us—and the flight attendant, but she would leave us alone—and I planned to take full advantage of it.

  In no time at all, we were in the air. Desiree played with the television controls and pushed every button she could. I smiled at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. You’re like a five-year-old at Christmastime.”

  The captain came over the intercom. “I hope you enjoy your flight to Tokyo. Flight time is an estimated thirteen hours on our state-of-the-art aircraft, the best in luxury aviation today.”

  Desiree froze. “What? I thought we were going to India.”

  “I meant to tell you about this.” A little detour wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  “About what? Is this something else I couldn’t know?” Her face darkened and all of the muscles seemed to tighten. Desiree got pissed off so fast, I was almost a little scared. One thing I knew about her was that she liked to be in control and she liked to be aware of the details. It was hard for her to be trusting, especially with all of her control issues, and I loved challenging her. The agency must certainly be frustrating for her because we often couldn’t control what we had to do or know the details. Details weren’t our job, at least not outside our immediate assignments.

  I shook my head quickly. “We are going to India, just like we were told to, but we have to stop in Tokyo first. The range on this particular plane will only get us to Tokyo. We’ll switch to a normal flight there.”

  “A normal flight?” That didn’t seem to make her feel any better. “I was just starting to love my job.” She folded her arms across her chest and pouted as she sank back into her chair.