Cost of Honor

by Radclyffe

  Oakes waited until Ari was through the main doors and into the lobby before turning and heading home. She wondered if Nika Witt was awake in the apartment across the hall from Ari or if indeed Ari’s father had kept tabs on her. She supposed he might have just been looking out for her safety, and she couldn’t fault him for that. Ari might not have been a prime target before today, but she would be now. Still, Oakes couldn’t prevent a ripple of irritation when she envisioned Nika by Ari’s side.

  She picked up her pace. The sooner she got back to doing what she did best, the better, and Ari Rostof could be someone else’s problem.

  The hallway leading to Ari’s apartment was deserted, no sounds coming from beneath the doors of the adjoining units. Superior soundproofing notwithstanding, the Kennedy-Warren in general was quiet, occupied primarily by professionals who were out during the day and rarely home in the evening, much like herself. She paused before inserting her key in the lock, conscious of the closed door at her back. 1014, Nika Witt’s apartment. Or rather, the apartment her father kept in her building, ostensibly for just this reason. For when he wanted someone to keep watch over her. To him that meant keeping her safe. To her, it meant intruding on her life. Worse, it meant a lack of trust in her own ability to take care of herself. She shouldn’t have been surprised, really, and Witt was already installed in her life. That battle was lost and not worth wasting energy on.

  With a sigh, she unlocked the door and stepped into her apartment. She engaged the deadbolt, slid the security chain into place, and, moving by memory, found the table lamp by the sofa and clicked it on. She hadn’t left any lights on when she’d left the previous week, since she hadn’t planned on coming back right away. She’d have to notify management in the morning that she had returned early, so they didn’t come in to water plants or check the apartment as they routinely did if tenants were away for a while. She had a two-bedroom apartment, one of the few larger units in a building constructed during an era when people did not need quite as much room. In addition to being spacious, the ceilings were high, the windows plentiful, and the kitchen just big enough for a table for two. She loved the place despite not spending all that much time there.

  Not until she’d stepped inside and shut the door on the rest of the world did she realize just how tired she was. Her shoulders ached, her back ached, and her head was muzzy as a result of a day filled with incredible emotional challenges, both good and bad. She was beyond excited to have the President of the United States as her new client, concerned about all that needed to be done, and surprisingly, intrigued that none of her thoughts really lingered on the job confronting her as they ordinarily would. Instead, as she went about getting ready for bed, she thought of Oakes Weaver. At once charming and humorous, intelligent and challenging, and at other times, barricaded behind a professional façade that was more than just window dressing. Oakes was one of those people for whom duty was a tangible thing. Something she could feel, that she lived and breathed. Ari had met a few people like that in her life, but the quality was rare. In her experience, those individuals could be remarkable and admirable, and also incredibly stubborn and royal pains in the behind. She suspected Oakes would be a little bit of both. She needed to work with her, and that was likely to require all her talent. She couldn’t afford distractions, no matter how charming the package.

  In panties and a loose T-shirt, she got into bed and immediately kicked the sheets aside in the unseasonably warm room. She cracked a window, and the night breeze drifted in along with traffic sounds. City lullabies. Morning would come all too soon, and she willed her racing mind to still. A minute later she checked her watch. She’d been home seventeen minutes. Oakes should be arriving at her destination just about now. Ari glanced at her phone on her bedside table, and for one insane moment, contemplated texting Oakes to ask if she made it home uneventfully. Laughing at her own insanity, she ignored the thought, turned over, and closed her eyes.

  The Oasis

  Philadelphia

  1:45 a.m.

  When the bartender announced last call, Sandy stood and finished off her drink, only the second she’d had the entire evening since she’d managed to look like she was drinking a lot more by passing her half-full glass back to the waitress every time someone bought another round.

  “Well, I’m done. It’s been fun.” She glanced at Trish. “Maybe I’ll see you again, huh?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Trish said, not sounding all that into it, but she’d handed Sandy her phone at one point while everyone was talking and said, “Put your number in.”

  Contact had been made. Maybe it would go somewhere, and maybe not. But that’s how the job was done. Just a few more scenes to play now.

  Sandy leaned down and kissed Mitch on the cheek. “Thanks for the drinks.”

  Right on cue, Mitch jumped up. “Uh, I could give you a ride home, if you’re into motorcycles. If you need one, I mean.”

  Sandy cocked her head, aware that Mark, or whatever his real name was, and Trish were watching.

  She shrugged. “Beats walking. But remember what I said. I’m not going to fuck you.”

  “Yeah, I got that message.” Mitch grinned. “The offer for a ride is still open, though. And who knows, maybe next time I see you here, I’ll get lucky.”

  Sandy laughed and rolled her eyes.

  Mark finally said, “So maybe I’ll see you again, huh, Mitch? You know, like-minded guys, they don’t come around that often.”

  “Totally,” Mitch said, keeping his attention on Sandy. Now was not the time to look too eager. He set his hand in the small of her back. “You ready?”

  “’Night all,” Sandy called, and walked away.

  Once outside, Mitch unhooked the second helmet from behind his seat and handed it to her. “That skirt is not made for riding on the bike.”

  “That’s not why I’m wearing it.” Sandy hiked it up to climb on behind him. After he kick-started the bike and pulled away, she wrapped her arms around his waist like they’d done a hundred times before. She didn’t look in Watts’s direction, but she knew he was there. Probably bored out of his skull, listening to their inane conversation most of the night. Of course, he could’ve been scanning sports scores on his phone. If there’d been trouble, he would’ve been there. That was all she needed to know.

  As they climbed the stairs to their second-floor apartment, she said, “If there’s anything there at all, it’s him, don’t you think?”

  “I think so.” Mitch unlocked the door and held it so she could go in before him. “He’s got the rhetoric down. Trish…” He shrugged. “I don’t know why she’s in it. He’s an asshole.”

  “He is, but plenty of girls hook up with assholes if there’s no other choice.” Sandy shed her skirt and shirt, aware that Mitch was watching her. “You tired?”

  “You offering?”

  She unhooked her bra, pushed down her panties, and climbed into bed. “Could be convinced.”

  Laughing, Dell kicked off the boots, then peeled off the T-shirt and the wrap binding her chest. Last came the pants and Mitch’s gear. Naked, she approached the bed. “I like watching you watch me do that.”

  Sandy leaned on an elbow. “That’s cause you know watching you strip makes me hot.”

  “Does it?”

  “Come see for yourself.”

  Dell stretched out between her thighs, smiling as she kissed her belly and then her clit. Sandy let out a little hiss as Dell’s mouth moved over her.

  “I like that too,” she murmured, her throat getting tighter with every second.

  Dell murmured agreement against her sex, and Sandy gritted her teeth to stay in the moment. Not for long, though. She couldn’t stop her body from rolling against Dell’s mouth. Just too damn good. Dell kept it up, and she came hard and fast, somewhere in the midst of the orgasm losing her grip and falling bonelessly back to the bed. The next thing she knew Dell was beside her, wrapping her up in her arms.

  “Hey,” she said sleepil
y, kissing her. “You are unbelievably hot.”

  “Yeah,” Dell whispered. “I am.”

  Laughing, Sandy cupped her sex, found her hot and wet, and started to stroke.

  Dell moaned, closed her eyes, and didn’t even try to hold back.

  “That’s what I call good teamwork,” Sandy murmured when Dell rested her cheek on her shoulder, breathing hard. When Dell’s quiet breathing was the only answer, she held her tighter and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ari slept better than she’d expected, waking at just before six surprisingly clearheaded. The room had chilled with the window open overnight, but the breeze felt great, and she gave herself a minute to just lie there while her brain clicked in and she organized everything she needed to do. As it had the night before, snippets of her conversations with Oakes, random glimpses of her, recollections of the timbre of her voice and the expressive turn of her smile, kept intruding on her thoughts. Rather than being annoyed by the interferences, she enjoyed each one for a brief few seconds before setting the memory aside and focusing again on what had to be her priority.

  After a quick shower, she dressed in a navy suit and blue and white striped shirt, checked her messages, and saw a text from Esmeralda Alaqua, introducing herself and letting Ari know she would be available after seven. She smiled to herself. She liked that. Her new associate, Adam’s second in command and, if she proved as efficient and amenable as her texts suggested, soon to be Ari’s right hand, had made her presence known without waiting to be contacted. Ari needed forward-thinking people who took the reins and did what needed to be done. She’d need a lot of them if she was going to do what needed to be done in the infinitesimally short period of time she’d been given.

  The trick was not to let everyone know exactly how far underwater she was starting out. But that’s what she was good at. Keeping misgivings and insecurities to herself. Projecting the aura of having everything under control, always. Of being absolutely certain of her decisions. That’s what being in charge was all about. Oh, she’d listen to good advice and reasonable consultation, but in the end, the decisions she made were her own, and doubt was not permissible.

  She grabbed her slim bifold case with her tablet inside, slipped her key card into the inside pocket of her suit jacket, and left the apartment. The door across from hers instantly opened, and Nika Witt stepped out, dressed in perfectly fitted black pants, a gray open-collared shirt, and fashionable boots that nevertheless looked like she could move quickly in them.

  “Good morning, Ms. Rostof,” Nika said.

  Ari paused. “All right, how did you know I was leaving? Please tell me there aren’t cameras in my apartment.”

  “To my knowledge, there are not,” Nika said, not breaking a smile. Humor was not high on her list of personality traits. “And if there were any, you have my word that I would not be using them.”

  “Did you by any chance sweep the apartment for listening devices or some such thing?”

  Nika held her gaze as she said, “Before you returned last night. I detected nothing of the sort. Nor did I interfere with any of your possessions while scanning the rooms.”

  Ari managed not to gape. She’d been kidding. “How did you get access?”

  “I have a key, to be used only if I feel that you are endangered.”

  A chill ran down Ari’s spine. “Were you ever going to tell me that?”

  “Not unless you asked.”

  “And since I don’t know what else I need to know, you’re not going to tell me.”

  “My job is to safeguard you. By whatever means necessary.”

  “I’m not in any danger, and I can assure you that following me around will bore you to tears while greatly inconveniencing me.” Incensed by the intrusion and annoyed at the unnecessary disruption to her already overcrowded schedule, Ari turned and strode toward the elevators. Nika fell in silently at her side.

  “You don’t know what threats might be directed at you,” Nika said. “And I would be more than happy to have absolutely nothing to do other than stay by your side for the duration of the assignment.”

  Ari stabbed the elevator button, admitting her entire reaction was childish, as she’d already accepted Nika’s presence. Taking it out on someone who was only doing their job was beneath her. “I appreciate that you have a job to do, and I’m sure you understand why it’s problematic for me. So let’s agree to make it as pleasant as possible. What do you need from me?”

  “An itinerary if you have one, and advance notice as soon as you know of any changes. Public appearances are always the most difficult to secure, so it would be helpful for me to know the agenda in advance.”

  “I have absolutely no idea what my schedule is going to be,” Ari said as they rode down to the lobby. Crossing to the doors to the street, she added, “But if and when I do, I’ll be sure that you’re advised.” She paused on the sidewalk in front of the main entrance. “I actually don’t even know where I’m going other than the White House, since that’s where Adam’s office is. My office.”

  “Very well. The car is waiting,” Nika said, gesturing to a black SUV idling a few feet away.

  “What car is that?”

  “Yours.”

  “I don’t have a car. I don’t use one in the city. I Uber.”

  Nika smiled, walked over, and opened the rear door. “Not anymore.”

  With a sigh, Ari climbed in, and after closing the door, Nika went around to the driver’s side. So now she had a chauffeur as well as a bodyguard. She didn’t even have a pass to get into the White House, and she hoped her ID would be enough. That someone actually knew she was coming. Wouldn’t that be just perfect—all dressed up and nowhere to go. On impulse, she texted Oakes Weaver.

  Morning. Hope I didn’t wake you. Am I going to be able to get in to work this morning?

  She wasn’t sure what to expect. Oakes could be doing anything right now—sleeping, working, running. Didn’t she mention she ran when they were at the diner? Ten seconds later the three little dots appeared in her message window telling her that a text was coming. Ridiculously, her heart raced.

  I’ll meet you at the west gate and walk you through

  Thanks. Sorry to bother

  No bother

  And that was that. Professional, to the point. And her damn heart still raced.

  OEOB, White House Complex

  6:35 a.m.

  “I’m going down to meet the new campaign manager and escort her to her office,” Oakes said, rising from the desk where she’d been watching the closed-circuit television cameras along with the rest of the security shift in the control room.

  “You’re not on until this afternoon, are you?” Evyn said, walking over with coffee and pastries. “Missed us?”

  “No, but with everything going on, I thought I’d come in for the morning push.”

  “Showing initiative. Going above and beyond.” Evyn shook her head. “That’s a bad habit to establish. It makes the rest of us look bad.”

  “Unusual circumstances.”

  “Uh-huh. So you say.”

  What it meant was that she didn’t have much of a life. True, a hell of a lot had happened between the racquetball game and now. Adam had been killed. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around that, and every time she tried, a knot of sadness and anger formed in her chest. She’d have to deal with it somehow, if it didn’t just go away on its own. That probably wouldn’t happen, but finding out exactly what had happened would help. Still waiting on that. Then the rushed flight to Newport, one of the prettiest places she’d ever seen. And Ari Rostof burst on the scene. More beautiful, really, than she’d appeared in media photos. And a whole lot more than that. More—of everything.

  “Oakes?” Evyn stood two feet away with the bakery bag in her outstretched hand.

  Oakes jolted. “What? Sorry.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were daydreaming. But you never do that.” Evyn tilted her head, narrowe
d her eyes. “Do you want a Danish?”

  “Oh, no, sorry. I better get down to the gate.”

  Evyn put her coffee and the Danish down on the counter and walked along beside her. “So, what’s she like?”

  “Who?”

  Evyn huffed. “For crying out loud. Rostof?”

  “You must’ve seen the news briefing yesterday.”

  “I did. Cool, capable, great television presence.”

  “Yup.”

  “And that’s not what I’m asking. What’s she really like?”

  Oakes gave her a look. “That’s what she’s like.”

  Heat prickled the back of her neck. Ari was a lot more than that. Thinking about sitting in the diner subtly sorting out their positions, the two of them circling a little bit at first, trying to stake out their territory without actually showing any claws. Nobody peed on the border of their territory. And then, once they’d more or less agreed to where the line was gonna be drawn between who had control of what, for now, relaxing, and just…talking. About things she never talked about with anyone, not even Evyn. Certainly not with the others on her team.

  How the hell did she end up talking about the little diner in the mountains? Like who could possibly care about that? But Ari had seemed interested. Maybe even a little envious. That was weird. Especially when thinking about Ari, whose idea of a vacation was some fancy-ass resort in the Berkshires where the hiking trails were probably groomed and the food catered. Okay, that was an exaggeration, and not fair. Maybe she was a bit envious herself. But the facts were indisputable—they couldn’t be more different. Her, the child of average middle-class parents, whose family had lived in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains for a hundred and fifty years. And Ari, the daughter of a Russian immigrant who had risen to become one of the most powerful figures in the country. Ari, whose privilege had come at a cost. Somehow Ari’d pried those bars of her gilded cage apart and made her own way. That couldn’t have been easy.