Wrong Number, Right Guy

by Elle Casey

  I get into the van as quickly as I can, holding the drone out at arm’s length.

  Toni’s glowering in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield. I wait for her explanation. Apparently, she doesn’t feel the need to give me one, though. Instead she turns the key and starts reversing out of our parallel parking space.

  “What the hell, Toni?”

  “What the hell, what?” She shifts into drive.

  “I thought we were going to put this up on the pole.”

  “Yeah, so did I, but it didn’t work out, did it?” She glares at me for a second before going back to her gearshift.

  I put my hand on hers to stop her. There’s a vulnerability to her that I’ve never noticed. “What’s going on?”

  She takes a deep breath in and then lets it all out. “I totally suck at flying that thing.”

  I look at it in my hand and frown. “You didn’t totally suck. You got liftoff.”

  “Liftoff is a long way from implantation.”

  “Maybe we should practice somewhere else and come back.”

  She pulls out onto the street. “Ozzie’s going to want us back for a briefing soon.”

  “It probably won’t take longer than thirty minutes.” I check my watch. “We have time.”

  She chews her lip as she drives to the next block. “Where?”

  I point to an abandoned-looking lot, one that’s obviously been used as a garbage dump by the local population if all the empty bottles and plastic bags spread around is any indicator. “There.”

  She pulls up onto the sidewalk, the entire van bouncing side to side when she gets back out on the street.

  “Great parking job.”

  “Shut up.” She puts the van in park and turns off the engine. She looks at me, strangely expressionless. “You sure you want to do this? I almost cut your leg off earlier.”

  I smile. “Not even close. I have reflexes like a ninja.”

  She snorts.

  “Here,” I say, handing her the drone. “You go put Polly down, and I’m going to try to fly her.”

  She stares at the drone sitting in her hand. “You think you can fly it?”

  “I’ve had radio-controlled toys before. Can’t be too hard, right?”

  “Tell that to your leg.” She points to my jumpsuit. There’s a spot of red on it where the drone hit my leg.

  “Oh my god. You cut me!”

  She smiles, but there’s a hint of regret to it. “I told you I suck at it.”

  I open the door. “Come on. Bring the controller. I’m going to make this happen.”

  She follows me outside, and we stand together at the edge of the lot.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  You completely suck, you know that?” Toni’s glaring at me with her arms crossed over her chest.

  I maneuver the drone so it’s level with her eyes, a couple feet away. “Say it again and see what happens.” I giggle with maniacal glee.

  “How is it you can control that thing after ten minutes of trying, and I can’t get it to do anything but cut people after hours of practice?”

  “I’m a ninja pilot. Live with it.” I lower the drone to a smooth stop at her feet. “Can we go now? I’m starving.” It’s nearly three o’clock, and I haven’t eaten anything since the bagel with cream cheese provided by our employer this morning.

  “Yes, we can go after you’ve placed the drone.”

  My bravado simmers to a dull roar. “Place it? You really think I can do that?”

  “Well, either you’re going to do it, or you’re going to crash and burn one of our best pieces of surveillance equipment.” She snorts.

  “No pressure.”

  “Listen, if you want Thibault to come out and do our jobs for us, fine. I’ll call him.” She lifts up her phone.

  “No! Don’t call him. We can do this.” I climb into the van next to her. “Girl power, right?”

  “Sure,” she says, turning the engine on and driving out onto the street. “Whatever you say.”

  There’s a definite chill to her tone. I chew my lip as we make our way back to the target, wondering if I should say something. My misgivings about what her reaction might be last all of three seconds.

  “So what’s the deal, Toni? Did I do something to piss you off, or is it just that you don’t like me on principle?”

  She doesn’t answer right away. She waits so long to reply, I’m convinced she’s just going to ignore my question. That’s not awkward at all. Just as I’m about to apologize, she responds.

  “I don’t dislike you at all. I’m just not . . . a warm and fuzzy person.”

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t get along with women very well.”

  I consider that for a few seconds. “Do you have any sisters?”

  “No. Three brothers. Thibault is one of them.”

  “Female cousins?”

  “Nope. Thirteen male cousins.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot of testosterone.”

  She shrugs. “I’m used to it. I never played with dolls; I played with soldiers. I prefer boots to sandals.”

  I look at her and smile. She’s petite, with tiny little features that would look right at home on a china doll.

  “What?” She glances at me before looking back at the road. “What are you looking at?”

  “I’m looking at a tomboy who looks like a girly girl.”

  She snorts. “Yeah, right. Girly girl. That’ll be the day.”

  “You wear heels. Those boots I saw you in the first day I met you had heels.”

  “Good for poking holes in bad guys.”

  I cringe inwardly. “Oh. Gross.”

  “And they make my legs look longer. I hate being short.”

  At five-seven I can’t really commiserate on that one.

  “In our business you have to be tough to get respect.”

  I frown. This isn’t sounding so good for me right now.

  She looks over and winks. “Don’t worry, Bo Peep. You don’t need to start wearing boots anytime soon.”

  My chin goes up. “I have boots.” I don’t mention the part about the sparkles.

  She says nothing, and we drive on. My heart starts beating faster when we arrive at our destination. The target house. All those tricky moves I was making with the drone take on new meaning here.

  “You ready?” she asks. She sits very still in her seat, waiting for me to answer.

  “As ready as I’m going to be.”

  She opens her mouth to speak, but then shakes her head and starts to open her door.

  “What?” I put my hand on her arm to stop her. “You were going to say something.”

  She sighs, not looking at me as she speaks. “I was just going to say that you’ll be fine. And that I’m glad you’re here with me. On the team.”

  I punch her in the arm, knowing how much it took for her to say that and also that anything more affectionate, like a hug, would freak her out.

  “Me too,” I say, really meaning it. “Come on. Let’s go put this mother on that pole.”

  She slides to the ground, but I see her smile in the side mirror. My heart soars with the idea that I could have just earned a friend with my mad drone-flying skills.

  I move to the back seat and take up a position in front of the computer, with the joysticks on my lap.

  “Okay,” she says, talking to me through the walkie-talkie. “Easy does it. Can you see through the drone’s camera?”

  “Yep.” I put the radio down so I can use both hands. I’m staring at the computer screen in front of me. The drone has a camera on the front that takes in all the scenery around it, almost in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree radius. It’s impressive.

  “We have liftoff,” she says as I bring the drone above the van.

  “Easy, easy,” I mumble to myself.

  The pole is in sight.

  “Watch the power line to your left.”

  I can just imagine how angry Ozzie would be if I electrocuted his
drone. I’d forever be known as The Executioner, I’m sure of it. And as much as I’d like to get rid of the Bo Peep moniker, I’d prefer it be for something less . . . harsh. Seems like there should be something halfway between a fairy tale character and a murderer.

  “Okay, to the right, you see that little platform? You can land it there and deploy the hooks.” This little drone comes with equipment to hook it onto things like this pole, to keep it from being blown down by the wind.

  I get the drone on the platform, using a maneuver that proves to be a little tricky in the tiny space available. I’m looking for the button to get the hooks in place, when Toni’s voice comes over the line.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What’s ‘uh-oh’?” I ask out into the van. I can’t turn and respond to her because I’m focusing on using both hands for the drone.

  “Potential bad guy, twelve o’clock. Be cool.”

  I press the button to hook the drone to the pole and then sit back, hiding behind the front seat, not that I need to for security purposes, because the curtain is drawn. What is she talking about?

  Then I look at the computer screen, and the drone lets me see exactly what she means. A guy is walking down the sidewalk toward us, a pit bull on a leash straining in front of him. Did he come from the target house? I try to swallow, but it’s hard to do on account of the lump in my throat.

  I can hear their voices through the back door of the van.

  “Hey, what’s up?” the guy says.

  “Nothin’ much. What’s up with you? Nice dog.”

  “Thanks. Just out for a walk. What’re you doing here?” He gestures up at the pole. “Electric company?”

  Our van has no markings on it that are permanent, but there’s a magnetic sign I was told is used by contractors who work for the phone company.

  “Nah. Phones.” Toni gestures over at a junction box not far away. “Connecting some new lines. Economy’s picking up.”

  “Good news.”

  “Yeah. Well, I’m outta here. Have a good one.” She waves as she goes around the side of the van and gets inside.

  “Just stay put,” she says in a low voice.

  I watch on the screen as we pull away. The man turns to watch us drive away and down the street.

  “I think he made us,” she says.

  I watch as he turns back around and continues away from the target house.

  “I don’t think so. He’s still walking his dog, and he’s not looking at the drone.”

  Toni lets out a long breath. “Thank Jesus.”

  My heart fills with pride. “We did it.”

  “Yes, we did.”

  Both of us are on cloud nine, all the way back to the warehouse. When we arrive, Thibault is waiting with his hands on his hips.

  “Well?” he asks before the engine’s even off.

  Toni and I get out of the van, and she walks over to give him a high five. “Done deal, thanks to Bo Peep over there.”

  I approach, feeling shy about taking all the credit. “I didn’t do anything, really. Toni got the camera in place for the entire back side of the house.”

  “And she flew the drone up to the pole and secured it,” Toni adds.

  “She did?” Thibault looks at me with a questioning expression. “How come you did it?”

  “I, uh . . .” I look over at Toni. She’s staring at the ground. “I wanted to try it out. I like radio-controlled cars, so I figured the drone would be fun.”

  “What happened to your leg?” he asks, gesturing to the spot of blood above my knee.

  I look down. “Huh. I don’t know?” Even I don’t believe me. I obviously need to practice my lying skills.

  Thibault smiles. “You didn’t have a run-in with a drone by any chance, did you?”

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Thibault—again?!” Toni storms off, yelling loud enough for anyone in the Port to hear. “One time, okay? One time I hit you!”

  I can’t not laugh when he lifts up his leg and shows me a small scar on his calf. “She nailed me. She’s a fucking maniac with that thing.”

  I lift up my pant leg too, revealing a small cut on my thigh. “Tell me about it.”

  Thibault tips his head back and roars with laughter.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  What’s so funny?” Ozzie asks, coming out of the shadows near the weight equipment. He’s sweating. Oh my. Sahara is walking behind him, and she looks as wiped out as I feel. Has he been making her work out too? I wouldn’t be surprised.

  “Toni tried to take her out with the drone.” Thibault points at my leg as I let the pants drop into place.

  “Again?” Ozzie shakes his head. “Man, she’s dangerous.”

  “Bo Peep got the drone up, though. Girl’s got skills, can’t deny.”

  Ozzie gives me an assessing look that has my face going pink. “Let me take a look at that cut before you go upstairs,” he says.

  “Oh, it’s no big deal, really. She barely tapped me.”

  “Regardless . . . go on over to the table there. I’ll join you in a minute.”

  I limp over to the chair, not because of my drone accident, but because now that all the adrenaline is fading from my system, I’m feeling my aching muscles again. Holy shit, when is my body going to be back to normal?

  Sahara and Thibault climb the stairs together and disappear into the samurai room. I take advantage of the alone time to give my arms and legs a massage while I wait for Ozzie to come over and assess my wound or whatever he’s going to do.

  I’m trying to keep my brain from imagining that his concern for my body is above and beyond that of a boss to an employee, but I lose that battle when he comes back downstairs, sits down next to me, and slowly rolls my pant leg up, putting his warm hand under my calf and lifting my leg to rest on his thigh.

  “Does it hurt?”

  He’s concerned, that much is evident in the seriousness of his expression, not to mention his tone. He touches the skin around the wound very softly. I really wish he’d quit messing around and put those big hands of his on my chest instead.

  Oh my god, did I just think that?!

  “Not as much as the rest of me,” I say jokingly, trying to act with a casualness I do not feel.

  He looks up at me, confused. It’s the first time I notice the flecks of amber in his green eyes. I try not to stare like a crazy person, but they’re beautiful.

  “I’m still sore from our workout.”

  “Ah. Sorry about that.” He unscrews some disinfectant and puts some on a cotton ball. “Maybe I overdid it a little.”

  “No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to do anything special for me. Just treat me like everyone else.”

  He dabs at the cut on my leg with the cotton. “You know that’s not going to be possible, right?”

  He’s not looking at me, but does that stop my blood pressure from shooting up into the stars? No, of course not. My whole body goes hot with just that one sentence.

  I probably shouldn’t assume he means anything special by it, though. I’m sure he’s saying I’m weaker than any of his other recruits, so I’m going to need a special, more relaxed program for getting in shape.

  “Why can’t you treat me the same?” I ask. “I promise, I’ll work as hard as I need to in order to make the team.” After today I’m sure I want to be here. I want to be part of the Bourbon Street Boys family. This is the most fun I’ve had at work ever. Plus there’s Ozzie. Getting to see him at work is like getting a Christmas bonus every day.

  “I have no doubt you will. You’ve already given a hundred and ten percent. I can’t ask for any more than that.”

  “So what’s the problem then?” I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.

  He stares at my leg, running a hand from my ankle to my knee as he leans down to examine the cut more closely.

  With just that one movement, his fingers dragging along my sensitive skin like that, he sets me on fire. He’s tilting my leg left and right, looking at my wound,
but the gentleness of his touch is not normal for someone just playing concerned employer. I can’t be imagining all of this, can I?

  He looks up at me, his eyes darker than before. “I can’t treat you like everyone else because you’re not like everyone else.”

  Does he mean . . .? No. Of course not. He means I’m a weakling. And let’s face it: compared to Toni, I am.

  “You’re saying I’m weak, aren’t you? Bo Peep. Some girl who walks around with a hook running after sheep all day long.” I’m disgusted with myself. Why haven’t I gone to the gym? Why do I eat so much cheesecake?

  His smile is faint, but it’s there. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” He reaches up and squeezes my bicep.

  I try not to flinch, but I’m only partially successful. Wow, those muscles are so sore.

  “You’ve got strength. We’re just going to build on what you already have. I know you can hack it. Otherwise, I would never have hired you.”

  “Really?” So many alternative meanings to our words are flying around my head. Are we talking about me being a suitable employee or a woman he has feelings for? Because I know I have feelings for him. There’s no denying it any more. Every time I’m in his company, I feel closer to him. I want to get to know him better. I wonder if that’s even possible; he seems like such a private person.

  He shrugs and sits up. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  What? What just happened? He was all soft before, and now he’s back to being regular Ozzie. Is he regretting asking me to work with him?

  “No, I don’t know.” He picks up my leg at the ankle and slowly lowers it to the ground. When he sits up again, he sighs, leans back, and rests his hands on his thighs. “I admit to being a little confused where you’re concerned.”

  I smile. Now I finally feel like we’re on even playing ground. Maybe.

  “You seem happy about that.” He frowns.

  “I am, because now I don’t feel like the only one.”

  “You’re confused about me?”

  “You could say that.” No way in hell am I going to be the first one to admit there might be some chemistry between us. For all I know he could be talking about something completely different.