by Penny Reid
“Janie!” I stopped and spun toward her, my eyes wide. I did not need my neighbors hearing about different theories surrounding the epidemiology of blue balls.
“Uh, yes?”
“I’ll get the stuff, just…I’ll see you when I get back from the store.”
“Oh. Okay. Sounds good.”
I peered over the side of the staircase and made eye contact with Fiona. Her eyes were mostly serious. Although it was clear that she was trying to mask a grin. Upon arriving on the ground floor, Dan took me by the arm and ushered me out of the building into a waiting black limousine. I climbed in first, then Fiona, followed by Dan and Quinn.
The car pulled away from the building and my eyes bounced between my companions. They appeared to be on edge, with the exception of Dan. As usual, his brown stripper eyes regarded me with friendly interest.
I broke the silence. “So…what’s going on?”
Quinn shared a look with Fiona; she glanced at her lap for two beats before lifting her eyes to mine.
“Sandra, I used to work for the government, as a consultant in Africa for an engineering firm—you knew that, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, the truth is, it was a bit more complicated than that.”
“What do you mean complicated?”
She hesitated, though her eyes were steady. “I did a bit of intelligence work.”
“A bit of intelligence work.” I had to repeat the statement in order for my brain to process it.
Quinn grunted his impatience. “She means she was a spy.”
My eyes bulged and I choked on nothing but my own disbelief and astonishment.
An image of Fiona—from about a year ago—stabbing a goon in the shoulder with a Susan Bates knitting needle flashed before my eyes. This explained a lot. This explained everything.
Fiona gritted her teeth, but continued. “Never mind about that. We need to talk about Alex Greene.”
A flare of panic ignited in my chest, and I grabbed Fiona’s hand. “Is he okay? Is he hurt? What happened?”
“He’s fine. At least, the last time Quinn saw him he was fine—which was just a few hours ago at the restaurant where he works.”
I swallowed my sudden surge of emotion and exhaled loudly. “Okay. Sorry. You scared me.”
“Sandra, I’m sorry I have to ask this, but what are your feelings for Alex?”
Quinn huffed and shifted in his seat. The leather made small, creaking sounds as he moved.
Fiona issued him a quick, irritated glower. Then she focused her attention back to me, her expression gentle and concerned. “I’m not prying because I want to; I’m prying because I want to make sure you’re treated fairly, not pushed into anything you’ll regret.”
“I’m in love with him.”
If possible, this news appeared to relax and distress her at the same time. “Okay, listen, there are plans involving Alex and you that you really need to know about, but I don’t think he’s shared them with you.”
“Plans? Whose plans?”
Quinn sat forward and leveled me with a piercing glare. “Did you know that Alex was flown to Washington DC last week? Did you know he’s made a deal with the NSA to keep you safe?”
My mouth opened and closed, my eyelashes fluttered in confusion. “What? No! What deal? He never….” I brought my hands up, fingers stiff and palms out like I surrendered. “What are you guys talking about? Can someone start at the beginning please?”
Fiona sighed and put her hand on my knee. “All right. Here is the story. There are those who believe Alex….”
“Knows one of the creators of bitcoins, I know.” I completed her sentence.
“No. He is the creator. He created them,” Quinn said, his voice lower than usual.
Uh….
I gathered a deep breath and slumped against the seat of the limo as I tried to process this information and failed. This conversation, revelation, interaction—whatever you could call it—was sudden. This felt very sudden—very out-of-the-blue sudden—abrupt and jarring. I was having an internal system error.
No wonder, I realized inwardly.
No wonder he never wanted to talk about it. No wonder I was safer not knowing. No wonder he’d warned me over and over about himself, about getting involved. No wonder he felt such pride. No wonder…just everything.
“Okay, we need to make this fast. Here is the deal—no interruptions, got it?” Unexpectedly, Dan was the one who tugged me out of my system error, his thick Southie accent making him sound impatient when I knew he was just trying to be firm.
“Alex, your guy Alex, created these things. They’re worth lots of money, billions of dollars. He can access any of them whenever he likes—give them, take them, whatever. The NSA and others in the government want Alex on their side. They want to control him so they can control the money. You see?”
I nodded and pressed my lips together. My hands were starting to shake so I tucked them under me.
He continued. “They see you—his girl—as the fastest way to do that. They threaten you, he flies out there last week to make a deal. He agrees to work for them, sweep the coins from certain accounts into others, whatever they want him to do. Otherwise, they’re going to pull you in and make you testify against Alex on some fake charges—something about violating his parole. But it isn’t about that. It’s about ruining your reputation or getting your medical license revoked. Something like that.”
Fiona clarified. “They have information about you that they’ll make public as part of the hearing.”
I connected these dots with the ones referenced by Agent Bell. “About me being a phone sex operator in college?”
Fiona nodded, her gaze moving over me in obvious concern.
“Who is going to care?”
“No one if they feed it to the media now. But if they make the hearing a circus, garner media attention about the fact that Alex is a famous hacker, the inventor of bitcoins, and—during your testimony—it comes out that you’re his phone sex operator turned child psychiatrist girlfriend, then a lot of people will care.”
“This is nuts! Who thinks up this stuff? Who honestly thinks this is a plausible reality?” I threw my hand in the air and yelled at the car in general.
“The fastest way to disgrace someone is to make them a public figure,” Quinn stated simply, as though he had previous and intimate experience with these kinds of situations.
“But this is so complicated and elaborate. It’s a conspiracy.”
“It’s also billions of dollars at stake. Of course it’s a conspiracy. And it’s all perfectly legal.” Fiona sighed.
“So, Alex did what?” I asked, and after a moment’s pause, I answered my own question out loud. “He made a deal that I don’t testify against him and the charges go away—and in exchange he gives them everything they want?”
Dan tipped his head to one side then the other. “Pretty much.”
I looked at Fiona, then Quinn, then back to Dan. “I can’t let him do that.”
Fiona released a breath and shared a relieved look with Quinn; it sounded as though she’d been holding it since we entered the car. “I am so glad to hear you say that.”
Quinn nodded. “Okay. Good. Now—I need you to talk to Alex. Convince him that this is not okay with you. You need to make him see reason. He can’t make this deal.”
“Can I ask why this is so important to you? Why are any of you involved?”
Quinn studied me for a moment, his hawkish eyes peering out from under arched eyebrows. “Alex can do a lot of good, but not with the NSA. They’ll use him. When they’re done, they’ll put him back in prison where they think he belongs.”
Quinn’s words chilled me to the core. I believed him.
Fiona chimed in. “Also, the stability of bitcoins is also an issue. What if they instruct him to seize coins from non-criminals? Those in politics are not above seeking revenge via unconventional means, and the security agencies—FBI, NSA, CIA—hav
e been used in the past to settle personal grudges. Bitcoins aren’t regulated in the same way as bank accounts or the stock market. People would have no recourse.”
Dan added, “The other thing is, this Alex guy is really smart. From what I’ve heard, he can hack into anything. What’s to stop them from using you in the future against him? If they control him then they control all his abilities—not just the bitcoin stuff.”
I nodded, tried to absorb all the information and process it.
“I’ll just tell him to call their bluff. Even if it isn’t a bluff, I can find a job anywhere—I don’t need to work at the hospital.”
“We have a plan,” Dan announced. Then he glanced at Quinn as though waiting for his approval before proceeding.
Quinn nodded once and shared yet another look with Fiona.
She spoke next. “I still have friends in Washington, and Quinn, as you might already know, has a lot of pull with several elected officials who shall remain nameless. We can put pressure on the right people, force the NSA to back off or offer an alternate deal.”
“So what do I need to do?”
“Well, first you need to talk to him. Convince him that we’re on his side.” Fiona’s expression was earnest. “Tell him he can trust us; make him believe you.”
Convincing Alex to trust anyone would be difficult, but I felt confident that he’d trust me and my judgment when it came down to it, especially if it gave him an alternative to the NSA.
But I sensed that Fiona, Quinn, and Dan hadn’t communicated a key element of their plan.
“Okay, what else?”
“He needs to work for me, at my company,” Quinn said.
I thought about Alex’s reaction to this idea.
I bit the inside of my lip and offered, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“There’s one more thing,” Dan said.
“What?” I asked, my eyes wide with concern. “What is it?”
They left it to Fiona to say, “It would be better—for you, and for Alex—if you couldn’t be forced to testify against him.”
I shrugged. “I agree.”
“No, you don’t understand. We mean if, legally, you couldn’t testify against him.”
Surprisingly, Dan was the one who spoke up and spelled it out for me. “That means you need to be his priest, his psychiatrist, or his….”
They all looked at me, waiting for me to register the word he’d left unsaid—and I did. I didn’t know whether to put on my freak-out panties or my ecstatic underwear.
I watched in stunned silence as Fiona reached into her bag and pulled out a large, white piece of paper. Carefully, she unfolded it and smoothed it out. Maybe she thought I was going the throw a punch, because her shoulders tensed when she handed it to me.
It was a marriage license, not yet signed, but the names and date had been filled in.
Groom: Alexander Greene
Bride: Sandra Elise Fielding
Date: Today
***
AS A JOKE, some months ago, my knitting group purchased me a man’s T-shirt. It was an occasion T-shirt black with a white bow-tie screen-printed at the neck. Words were printed across the chest.
The first thing I did when entering my apartment was search for that shirt. When I found it, I tucked it into a reusable grocery bag; I also added the marriage license and my man-knit gift set to the bundle. I put the bag with all the items by my bed.
Life was unbelievable. What had I said the other day?
The world is an unbelievable place full of unbelievable people doing unbelievable things.
My friends sat in the adjacent room, chitchatting like nothing was amiss, and I loitered in my room, trying to wrap my head around what had transpired in the limousine. It was all so surreal. Surely, this couldn’t be happening to me. Maybe I needed some wine.
Several details called out to me at once, and sorting through them—in order of importance—was difficult. Therefore, I settled on the loudest.
Alex had known about my job as a phone sex operator before he’d asked for my deepest secret. That was why he showed no emotion or surprise when I’d told him. I wondered if it had been a test. I wondered if I had passed.
Puzzle pieces fell into place—the suit, the haircut, the lost days, his decision to consummate our relationship prior to sharing the details of his past. Many of his words from Saturday night floated back to me—
I’m not waiting anymore for what I want, for what’s mine.
Everything’s changed.
I’ll have no regrets.
It’s not one terrible thing. It’s a series of messes that you’re better off knowing nothing about.
I want you. I’m taking you.
I want to trap you.
I’m not going to make it easy for you to leave me.
—and now that the entire picture was visible, they fit together perfectly.
According to Fiona, I had two hours before we needed to leave. The wedding would be tonight, before the NSA could intervene. Then, tomorrow morning, assuming I successfully convinced Alex of everything, Quinn would take him to Washington, DC. Quinn would use his contacts and put pressure on the right people to hammer out a new deal—one where Alex’s interests weren’t so completely compromised.
Arrangements had been made.
I had two hours to find a way to persuade Alex to marry me, trust my friends, and work for Quinn; two hours to find peace with my future life as Alexander Greene’s wife.
I didn’t wish for additional time. I wished for time to pass more quickly. I was ready to get this party started.
***
OUR FOOTFALLS SOUNDED like a small stampede on the steps. I hopped from one to the next, my heart climbing with each stair I ascended. I’d even worn my lucky black leather pants and slutty red halter-top for the occasion—for luck, and to encourage lust should all else fail.
Alex wasn’t expecting me until Wednesday. We were set to meet for dinner and a movie. A normal people date, he’d called it.
I breached the top of the stairs ahead of my posse and promptly halted in front of Alex’s door. I didn’t hesitate. I knocked…waited…knocked again—perhaps a bit prematurely.
But I was feeling excited and nervous. I couldn’t help the mistimed knocks because I needed to do something with my hands.
As I lifted my hand to knock a third time, Alex swung the door open. He was wearing his guarded glare, the one I’d seen him use on Agent Dumb Ass. Almost immediately, when he registered my presence, his gaze softened and a hopeful smile claimed his lips.
Adorable didn’t begin to describe him, but manlicious sexy genius might.
Someone behind me cleared his throat—it sounded like Dan. The sound caught Alex’s attention and he glanced behind me, his face betraying surprise as he registered the gaggle of spectators I’d brought.
On my right stood Fiona. On my left stood Dan. Quinn and Ashley remained in the car downstairs. The remainder of the ladies from my knitting circle fanned behind me like a peacock tail. I imagined we made quite a sight.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey….” He said, his eyes no longer meeting mine, but rather skimming the faces behind me and at my sides. “What’s going on?”
“Come on, get your jacket on. You’re coming with us.”
Alex’s eyes moved from Fiona to me. “Us?”
“Yes.” I nodded then gestured to my knitting gaggle. “You’re coming with all of us.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out. Come on.” I waved him forward.
He didn’t move.
Honestly, I was surprised; but I shouldn’t have been. I’d expected to show up and just ask him to come with me, and he would. I’d brought my peeps as witnesses in case I needed a cover story or a distraction—should Dumb Ass or Agent Bell be present.
I should have known better. Alex trusted me, but he trusted no one else. And it wasn’t a simple absence of trust like normal people have until th
ey get to know someone better. Everyone in the entire world started at a trust deficit with him. His baseline was paranoid suspicion.
If I was having this much trouble convincing him to come downstairs, how was I going to convince him of everything else?
He licked his lips, scanned the crowd of faces before him. Once again, his gaze landed on Fiona’s before bouncing back to mine. “Sandra….”
“Alex, I haven’t asked for a whole lot; just honesty and sex. And now I’m going to ask you for one more thing. Get your useless jacket on and come with me.”
“That’s two things.”
“Ok, I’m your cray-cray jealous girlfriend, and I want to keep you in my sights all the time. Now get that sexy ass down those stairs. Hop to it.”
Instead of trusting me and just doing as I asked, Alex widened his stance, crossed his arms over his chest, and carefully cleared his face of all emotion. “Not until you explain what’s going on.”
We engaged in a minor staring contest. I broke it by stepping forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pressing my body to his. He tensed, though his hands automatically found their usual home on my waist.
“Alex,” I whispered against his ear, “I’m begging you. Come with me.” I pulled away, just far enough for him to see the urgency in my eyes.
He lifted his eyebrows, just a fraction of a centimeter; obvious surprise and concern now clouded his cobalt gaze. Then he nodded.
“Okay.” He leaned to one side, grabbed his jacked that I hated from some unseen place, and pulled it on as he shut the door. “Lead the way, cray-cray.”
CHAPTER 27
INTRODUCTIONS WERE MADE as we descended the stairs. He seemed to recognize all the ladies from our auspicious dinner several weeks ago. When it came time for me to introduce Dan, however, Alex cast him a distrustful once over. They shook hands, nevertheless. It was impressively brief.
Alex and I were the last two to enter the car. We had a bit of a standoff, wherein he insisted I enter first, and I demanded that he precede me. In the end, I entered but commanded him to hold my hand and move in next to me with no delay.