by Jill Gates
He smiled, showing gorgeous dimples and straight, perfect teeth. Nearly melting inside, Vanessa wondered if it would be so bad to date a poor college guy once. Leaning over the counter, she smiled widely at him when he turned back with the coffees in hand. "Here you go," he said, looking up. One glance at her cleavage and smile, he forgot himself, knocking one over and spilling all over the green apron. "Crap!" He shouted.
Vanessa covered her mouth to hide the giggle. Coffee spilled all over his apron, as if the young man had gotten entirely too excited. In a way, he had, Vanessa thought, still chuckling. "Let me get you another," he said, cheeks flaming red. Smiling still, she waited without further attempt at flirting while he set the coffee down on the counter. "Do you like it hot?"
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry, the chocolate croissant," he said, cheeks redder still. "Do you want me to heat it up for you?"
"No thanks," she said, handing him her card. She took the receipt and juggled the two drinks and small bag with Letty's treat without further banter, still giggling silently to herself. Poor kid, she thought, that might have been the most action he's had in a week. Or year.
"Here's your croissant," Vanessa said, setting the bag on the table, "And coffee." Placing her cup down carefully, she wiped the chair before sitting.
"What's so funny?"
"Barista got so excited, he soaked his apron," she said, laughing.
"Poor kid." Letty paused, inhaling the aroma of her pastry, her tanned cheeks lighting up in a satisfied grin. "Vanessa, you really shouldn't flirt with college boys." She took a bite and gave a satisfied sigh, "Even if they are damn cute."
"Too young, too nervous," the blonde recited, "Too old, too cocky. To broke, no fun and too rich, too assholish." Sigh. "Why do you think James pulled a no show last night?"
Letty had already heard all about the dashing, mysterious man from the dating site. She told Vanessa, many times, most of his stories had to be made up. A government spy? Working in domestic surveillance on top secret projects? "Vanessa, you were in the Army's special unit after college, right? Did they really have covert ops that spied on people?"
"Yes, but in other countries. Domestically, it's the CIA, NSA or FBI usually," she sipped her coffee, "Besides, I was only in the service for a few years, to pay off my student loans." She frowned, "Ended up getting far too much practice with injuries in Afghanistan though." Another sip, "Only good thing was, bills got paid, and I got a great tan."
"Don't you have any contacts you could ask to see if James' story is real?" Letty sounded concerned, and for good reason. Once the subject turned to the mystery man, Vanessa got a dreamy eyed look in her eyes.
"Sure, I know a few people," Vanessa snapped. "What do I do, Facebook them and say, 'hi, this guy says he's a domestic spy with top secret clearance, can you prove he's legit?'" She saw the look on Letty's face and apologized. "Listen, if he's for real, they can't confirm or deny. If he's fake, they can deny, only. If he never shows up, then, I've only wasted a month pining over a fantasy. Is that too long to indulge in your dreams, Letty?"
The Latina shook her head, "No, honey. Not too long at all." A buzzing sound came from Letty's bag, a large, leopard print monstrosity. "That's Ernesto, sorry." Conversation ensued once she picked up the phone, and Vanessa grew introspective.
Looking around the tables, she saw a few couples, no singles, and one group of what looked like Asian tourists rounding out the packed courtyard. Smiling to herself, she watched the passerby for a moment, the crowd a little thinner now that lunch time was so close. The coffee had done the job, her senses were now buzzing in overdrive, and she started to feel jittery. Watching Letty on the phone, she realized she needed lunch, and soon, otherwise, she'd start to get a stomach cramp.
Chapter Five
Five
Two tall, slacks wearing men approached from down the block, both focused on the cell phone held before them. They both had polo shirts, one blue, one green, and the taller of the two was holding the screen, while the shorter scanned the crowd in front of them. Odd, Vanessa thought, they looked like two guys with a metal detector, about to find their buried treasure. The shorter one scanned her and Letty's table with no change in his long jawed face. His nose appeared to have been busted a few times, and his eyes were beady. Thin eyebrows and a military haircut gave him an, "Ask no questions, follow orders," kind of look to Vanessa. She'd seen his type before, and studying the taller man in green had a similar crew cut, with less beady eyes and thinner jaw. With their attention again focused on the screen, Vanessa saw them stop walking and start talking in hushed tones. At twenty yards away, she couldn't make out a thing they said, but suspicion grew in the back of her mind.
What makes you so sure you can find me, she had asked, standing in the doorway of the hotel room. "I have my ways," Sophia replied, giggling. The mental image replayed itself a few times as Vanessa watched the two crew cut drones analyze their screen. Stomach acid started to churn her insides into mush while she tried to pay attention to the two men, her overactive imagination playing out all manner of crazy scenarios. Running shoes, at least I'm not wearing heels, she thought. Mace, probably enough for one attacker, not enough for two.
Without taking her eyes from the two men, who had walked over to the wall of the Louis Vuitton store and casually leaned up against the wall, chatting, she grabbed her clutch. "Letty," Vanessa said, trying to distract her friend from making lovey noises to Ernesto on the phone. "Letty!"
"One second, chica," she replied, holding up a finger and taking another bite of croissant. "Love you too, babe. Ciao." Mouth full, Letty casually wiped her mouth with the back of a hand and took another sip of coffee. "What's wrong, girl? Did all that talk about James and-"
"Letty, please," Vanessa interrupted. "Do you have that mace you got from our self defense class?" Letty nodded, suddenly scared, her mouth dropping open. The half chewed croissant stuck to her tongue and Vanessa shivered, reminding herself never to order one. "No time for questions. Can you hand it to me under the table?"
"Ah, sure," Letty replied. Her dark eyes were wide in concern, and she fumbled the zipper on her oversize purse twice before opening. While she reached under the table to hand over the mace, Vanessa kept watching the two men, trying to be discreet. "What's wrong?" The sotto voce from Letty carried louder than her normal tone, and the blonde immediately felt her pulse quicken.
"Nothing," she said, whispering fiercely. In a more normal tone, Vanessa smiled, tried to seem calm. "I just realized I lost mine, and felt vulnerable all the sudden. Those crazy stories James was telling me, you know?"
Laughing, Letty pounded the table for a moment before stopping. "You had me going, V!" She bite off another large chunk of croissant, almost choking as she chewed, washing it down with a big swig of coffee. "Next time, milk and sugar, okay? This is black."
Forcing a laugh, Vanessa copied her friend, still freaked out watching the two clones lean up against the wall, studying their cell phone. "Sorry, practical joke."
Gobbling up the rest of her croissant, Letty covered her mouth and belched, softly. "Listen, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have to go meet Ernesto." Her eyes twinkled, "He's buying me lunch at Left Bank, and said he'd be here soon."
"Okay, have a good lunch," Vanessa said, biting her lip. She watched the two neanderthals for a moment, then had an idea. "Letty, can you do me a huge favor before you go?"
"Sure, if it's quick," she replied.
"Can you take a photo for me?"
"Seriously?" Letty snort laughed for a moment, grabbing her purse and setting it on her lap. "I never knew you wanted to be a model." Pausing, she tilted her head, "You're probably to curvy, and a bit short, sorry, girl."
"Take out your iPhone," Vanessa asked, softly. "Take a photo, but switch the camera around to point at your face." Vanessa whispered, "Zoom in on the two guys behind you, next to the building."
Letty paused in the middle of bringing her phone out of her bag, "Why?"
Her normally placid expression bore a mulish cast.
"Look, I think I recognize those two from my old unit, in Afghanistan," Vanessa said, "However, I want to get a photo, so I can email it to a few people." The blonde leaned over the table and squeezed her friend's arm. "Please?"
"Okay," Letty replied, adjusting her phone and switching to the front camera. It took a moment, pinching and zooming the photo, before she honed in on the overly casual guys in slacks. "Done," she said. "Want me to send it to you via text?"
"Please," Vanessa said, "Thank you. It's nothing, I'm sure," Vanessa smiled, reaching over to pat her friend's hand again. "Enjoy lunch, and give Ernesto a kiss from me."
"No way," Letty replied, laughing and finishing up the text. "If I tell him that, he'll get all kinds of crazy ideas." Brown eyes twinkling, she said, "You need more friends. I know you have more than me, but really, this James character hasn't been good for you." Letty paused after she rose, and leaned over. "Are you sure this isn't PTSD?"
"I'm sure, Letty," Vanessa replied with a smile. She worried her grin was too wide, and toned it down a second when Letty's eyebrows knotted together. "Enjoy your lunch, and I'll see you tomorrow afternoon at work, okay?"
"Okay, chica," Letty said, coming around the table to give her a brief hug around the shoulders. "Call me if you need anything alright?"
"Sure," the blonde replied, eyes fixated on the two neanderthals. They hadn't moved from their spot and if she was any judge of intentions, the two were clearly not focused on general people watching. Plus, their phone in hand hadn't been put away, or typed into, like a regular person's. They could be watching the latest NFL game, she thought, shaking her head. Between her mysterious no show, her stress and the confusing night she had, Vanessa convinced herself she was jumping at shadows.
Working in the medical unit of the army was as far from covert ops as you could get. Still, Vanessa took a few deep breaths, drank the last of her coffee and tried to think of a way to confirm if the two clones were after her, or if she was day dreaming. "Da da da da, dee, dee, dee, dee, da," her phone sang out. What now, she thought, tempted to ignore the phone. James!
Digging into her clutch, she grabbed the phone on the fourth ring, hoping that the call was not dropped or routed to voice mail. "Hello?"
"Hi there," a sweet, feminine voice said, "I have some bad news."
"Who is this?"
"Truth or dare," the voice said, chuckling.
"Sophia?" Heart pounding, Vanessa looked up to see the two men still leaning against the building, watching passerby and their phone, ignoring the direction of the Starbucks. "Tell me I'm not dreaming."
"No, you're not dreaming," Sophia replied, "But, I owe you an apology." Vanessa's heart pounded and she heard a rushing sound in her ears. The phone cut out, and she could not believe the partially heard next sentence. After a moment, Sophia repeated herself, "James didn't show last night," Sophia said, "Because he doesn't exist."
"Damn you," Vanessa said, tempted to throw her phone into the street. "Why the fuck have you been screwing with me?"
"Long story, and like I said, I'm sorry. Calm down," Sophia continued, her voice practical, calm. "Those two men," Sophia went on, "I trust you figured out they're not watching a game, or ogling hot butts as women walk by?"
"Yes," she replied, "How-?"
"No time. First, get up grab your purse, looking around as if you might have dropped something." Confused, Vanessa got up and started to look around, taking deep breaths. Years before, they had practiced staying calm in high pressure situations, and she knew that afternoon, this should be treated no different.
"Now what?"
"There's a cigar shop, towards the Vally Fair side of Santana Row," Sophia said, her voice breaking up, "Can you cross the street at the next intersection and then head there?"
"I hate cigars," Vanessa replied angrily, "How the hell does that help?"
"Just listen, lead them that way, and it'll be okay," Sophia replied, "Can you trust me?" Thinking about all the wonderful things James, well, Sophia, had written in the past month, Vanessa was torn. If any of it was true...
"Fine. On my way," she said, and hung up without another word. As she started walking away from Starbucks, she pulled out her compact, deciding to start getting more interested in make-up. Who knew the little mirrors could come in so handy? While walking, she also pulled out her lip gloss, and made a point of refreshing her lips before crossing the street. In the mirror, she could see the two thugs not more than twenty hards back, walking casually.
With the large crowd on the street, it was easier to stay calm than Vanessa expected. Still, a part of her wanted to run and scream. Only the couple years of military training she'd had, and the self defense classes, helped keep her calm. Also for some crazy reason, despite the lies, she trusted Sophia. I'm going to make her pay, though, Vanessa thought. Determined as she was to get to the cigar shop, she ignored the glances from passerby, which instead of admiring her body, masked a nervousness. Men simply dodged to give her a wide birth, and the women started giving her entirely unfriendly smiles.
Focused as she was, the cigar shop grew close, she could tell by the smell. So she slowed to a saunter, breathing slowly to calm her racing pulse. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she had no idea what to do next, and didn't want to grab the phone to figure it out. Looking in the window, she saw rows and stacks of cigar boxes, with various brand names. Some cigars were in metal tubes, some plastic wrap and even from the outside, the smell was near enough to make her gag. Wrinkling her nose, she walked inside, noticing there was a fat, portly man behind the counter and a single male customer lounging in one of the leather chairs. Nearly a half dozen others remained empty, and ash trays lined the glass coffee tables interspersed.
"Can I help you?" The old, fat man leered when he said it, giving her an all too familiar smile. His beady eyes didn't quite roam down her frame, but she felt soiled just from his tone. There was a tiny bit of gray fringe lining his head, and his jowls moved when he spoke.
"Maybe," Vanessa replied, not wanting to offend him, but not wanting to make small talk either. "A friend of mine was going to meet me here."
"Not that I know of," he said, looking confused.
Shouting erupted on the street, "Help," was all she could make out. Confused, Vanessa walked to the entry way.
"Come on," Sophia said, walking quickly to her out of the crowd and grabbing her hand. "We need to leave. Now."
"Where did you come from?"
"Walk and talk, Vanessa," Sophia replied, holding her hand and striding quickly towards the opposite direction of the parking garage. Confused, she glanced over at the brunette's clothes, tight fitting black slacks, and a button up, pink top. Her shoes were flats, not tennis shoes, but easy enough to run in should the need arise.
"Fine," Vanessa replied, squeezing the other woman's hand as she walked with her, quickly towards the intersection. "However, you owe me big time," her firm tone received a reassuring squeeze of her hand, which made her feel better. However, the tension from the previous night returned and Vanessa swallowed, hard, thinking of what she said. "Answers. A lot of answers."
"That, and more," Sophia smiled, "My car is there."
"Tesla?" Vanessa squeaked. "You're kidding, right?"
"Nope," Sophia replied, pulling a remote out of her pants pocket. Vanessa noticed the other woman carried no purse, odd, she thought. I guess it makes sense for a spy perhaps, but don't you want to blend in?
Vanessa hoped into the passenger side of the Tesla, barely noticing the luxurious leather interior. She fastened the seat belt after a few tries, and by the time the clasp clicked into place, Sophia had pushed down the emergency brake and floored the accelerator.
Confused, Vanessa could not hear the engine running and asked, "Why can't I hear the engine?"
"Electric," Sophia smiled, "It's also a lot easier to hold a conversation and drive in this thing." After a moment, they passed through the last r
ow of shops in Santana Row and took a right. A few streets later, they merged onto I-280, the nearest freeway, and were heading North. All the while, Vanessa sat silently, fuming and confused.
On the freeway, the car was still confusing. Sure, the road noise was there, and the wind but the usual engine sounds were absent. Vanessa enjoyed music while she drove, but at that moment, she didn't want any other distractions. In the daylight, Sophia was just as pretty as she remembered from the day before. There is no James, she reminded herself. Damn. Her long legs were confidently pressing the gas and dodging the mild traffic as she drove. The strong, capable hands she had were gripping the wheel with a control that Vanessa envied.
"Why did you start flirting with me online?"
"As James? Well, you had a profile, you said you were straight, and you fit the criteria for the agency."
"The CIA?" Sophia nodded, smiling, without looking over. "What could you possibly want with a woman who works at a local hospital?"
"Precisely. You do know they do some medical research, in conjunction with a few biotech startups, right?" Vanessa nodded, not liking where this was going. "Part of the reason you got a job there was your military experience and extra clearance, right?" Again, the blonde got a sick feeling in her stomach. "Not only that, but despite your work with the public, you do realize you have access to areas that are off limits to most staff, including people like your friend Letty, who's more senior?"
"Fine. But can't the agency simply get a forged pass or something, or get somebody like you hired in the hospital to do, well, whatever?"
"Doesn't work that way," Sophia said, shaking her head. "Imagine if we left such an obvious paper trail behind us for a given job. First thing you do when something happens is check the employee files. Were any new staff hired in the past month with access? Do they have a record? What do their bank accounts look like?"
The sinking feeling continued in her stomach, and she felt as if she might throw up. "I need food," she said, "Or I'm going to barf all over your car."