Investigating the Hottie (7 page)

“Maybe, but why are
you
wearing a dress.” He waited for me to sit down and then seated himself. 

“Do I need to demonstrate my sixth-degree black belt?” Christie crossed her legs.

Nic grinned. “Maybe.”

“Really, a black belt?” I asked.

“Yeah. You should try martial arts.” Christie squeezed a lemon into her water. “I think you’d be a natural.”

“Okay.” I glanced over at Nic and caught him checking out Christie’s legs. I giggled.

He looked over and gave me a guilty face. He gestured for me to keep it to myself. Since Christie could hold her own, I would.

“Amanda, you are going to love the pizza here,” Nic said.

I inhaled a big whiff of Italy. “I think you’re right.”

“Hey, Amanda,” a voice said from right next to me. I looked up to find Will standing there. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I thought I’d say, ‘hi.’”

Had Christie done this on purpose to see how I’d interact? I hated tests. Be cool. “Hi! Umm. This is my aunt, Christie, and her boyfriend, Nic. This is Will from school.”

“Well, hello,” Nic boomed in a voice several octaves deeper than he normally used.

“Nice to meet you, Will.” Christie offered her hand, and he shook it.

Nic stood and offered his hand as well. Will paled a little as the tall, muscular agent gripped his hand.

“Well.” Will swiped a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I should get back to my mom. I just wanted to say hi.” He glanced at me. “You look really nice tonight.” Then, he looked away quickly and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Umm. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye. Thanks for coming over,” I called but he walked so quickly I doubted he even heard me.

Nic waited until Will was across the room before sitting back down.

“You didn’t have to intimidate him,” Christie scolded.

Nic grimaced. “He was looking at Amanda like she was a piece of chocolate cake. I thought she was just nosing around, not dating the kid.”

“She isn’t dating him. She’s just being friendly and trying to find out some information.” Christie turned back to me. “So,” she said with a teasing tone, “someone’s made a conquest.”

I shrugged, trying not to blush. “He was just being nice.”

Christie eyed me for just a little too long while I studied my fork. “I’d hate to use the chocolate cake analogy, but he was definitely interested in more than being polite. You didn’t even see him over there. He could have just left without you knowing.”

“Look Amanda,” Nic said. “Be careful. He may be dangerous. All teenage boys are dangerous to some extent.”

Christie opened her mouth but instead of telling Nic he was nuts, she said, “Maybe you shouldn’t wear my clothes anymore, Amanda.”

I peered down at my shirt. Maybe I should wear Christie’s clothes more often.

“Nic, stop it,” Christie said.

I eyed Nic, but I couldn’t tell what he was doing wrong this time.

“I’m not doing anything.” Nic said, with exaggerated innocence.

“You’re glaring at him across the room,” Christie scolded. “Leave him alone.”

“I just want to make sure he knows that I’m onto him.”

“He’s a suspect, you idiot. Not Amanda’s prospective husband. You’re going to spook him.”

“Oh, speaking of spooking,” I said, and I gotta tell you, it wasn’t that easy to say. “How’s your investigation going?”

“You mean Operation Rat Bait,” Nic asked.

“I said not to call it that,” Christie said. “I’m not bait.”

“Too bad,” he said, wiggling his brows. “You are a tasty little morsel in that dress.”

“You sure are a rat. No, a pig.” Christie turned my way, dismissing Nic. “It’s progressing. The man never contacts anyone, so we’re going to up the pressure. Today, I slipped a few phony late registrants into the mix. One of the names definitely got a reaction. Tomorrow, I’ll flirt with him all day, and then demand he take me to dinner.”

“We’ve got his office, home, and car tapped. It’s only a matter of time.” Nic smiled at Christie. “And today, I found some chemicals in his house that prove he’s the guy with the truth serum formula.”

“Why don’t you just arrest him?” I asked.

“We want his accomplice, too,” Christie explained. “Otherwise, he could just sell the formula himself.”

“So, don’t you have to watch him all the time?”

“We are. We’ve got a tracking device on him.” Christie pulled a compact from her purse and handed it to me. “Open it.”

I did. It looked like that squiggly multicolored blush/base/powder stuff that turned to a normal color when you brushed it on.

I glanced over at Christie.

“Look closer,” she said.

As, I stared at it, the brown portions started to look a little like a road map. In the center, a lone green fleck moved slightly on a pink square.

“He’s in the chemistry building,” Christie said. “He’s the green speck. The orang-ish square is his house. The dark brown is the bar.

“Cool. It tracks him on this map,” I said.

Christie grinned. “Looks like a normal compact at first, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, closing it and handing it back. “So, does Nic carry the makeup thingy too?”

“Not if I can help it,” he joked. “There’s a cell phone version, too. But for women like your aunt, high maintenance women, the make-up makes more sense.”

He really knew how to get to her.

“Pretty big talk coming from a man who wears make-up,” Christie said.

What?

Nic glared at Christie. “Only when the mission requires it. You know that.” He turned to me. “She knows that.”

“Maybe she likes to bring it up because you’re a little sensitive about it,” I suggested.

“Maybe,” he said. “Too bad I can’t tell you about the time in Manhattan that she—”

“Nic!”

“But I can’t because that whole episode,” he paused to torture her, “was classified.”

“You’re darn right it was.”

“But someday. When time passes, it’ll get declassified, and I’ll retire, and write my memoirs, and…” He took a long sip of his Coke. “Then we’ll see.”

“You wouldn’t.” Christie lifted her glass and held it near him.

“You have an arsenal of weapons, and you threaten me with water?”

“I can’t threaten you with anything else. It’s against regulations.” She lowered her drink. “Of course, there is that little thing that happened to you in New Orleans last year.”

Nic’s eyes narrowed. “You weren’t even my partner then.”

“No, but the story got around.” Christie broke into an evil grin.

“You heard about . . . ” He glanced at me. “It?”

Until I saw Christie’s expression, I’d never gotten that whole cat-ate-the-canary thing.

“No, I saw the footage.”

Nic frowned. “They were supposed to destroy that.”

“I guess it got intercepted.” She bobbed her head to the side and pressed her lips together. “Too bad.”

Nic glared at her for a moment before saying, “Truce?”

“Truce,” Christie agreed.

They shook on it.

The pizza arrived, and we leaned back so that the waitress could put it on the table.

“Thanks,” Christie said.

“Can I get a to-go box please?” Nic asked. “A small one.”

“Sure,” the waitress said. She went off to find one.

“Now that you’ve both rudely talked about stuff that you can’t tell me about… ” I teased.

“Sorry,” Christie said. “We get a little—”

“Carried away sometimes,” Nic finished.

I just looked at them. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“What?” they said in unison.

“Nothing.”

“Thanks,” Nic said as the waitress handed him a box.

“What?” Christie asked.

“He finished your sentence.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Explain that one.”

“He did not,” she said as he said, “I did not.”

“Whatever.”

“Ooh. Gotta go,” Nic said. He jumped up, got two slices of pizza from the pan obviously burning himself, because he jerked his hand back and shook it. He popped the slices in the box. “I have to get to work.”

Christie looked at her watch. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

“Keeping tabs on me, huh?” He grinned. “I like that.”

“Barf,” Christie said.

“See ya later,” Nic said.

We watched him walk away and out the door, right behind a woman in a nurse’s uniform and Will. Strange coincidence?

“He’s following him,” I said.

“He won’t hurt him,” Christie said, squinting at the door. “I think.”

“He can’t hurt him. He’s a minor.”

Christie turned to me and smiled. “You’re right. He really can’t.” She shook her head. “That man is a nightmare.”

“I think you like him.”

She ignored me and gestured to the pizza. “Let’s dig in. This stuff is delicious.”

The pizza tasted even better than it smelled.

“Do you want to skip the scrimmage tonight?” Christie asked when I started on my second piece.

I considered it. I could probably eat a couple more pieces if I didn’t have to go run around. “No. It was fun last night. And I don’t want to get out of shape. We’ve got a big game next week when I get back.”

“Okay, let’s get a box for this, and we’ll go home so you can change.”

“How long have you lived here?” I asked Christie when we got back to her snowy white spy villa.

“A month.” She tossed her keys on the table and went into the kitchen. “Pretty cool apartment though, huh? The last place was a rundown walk-up in Philly.”

“That’s almost an oxymoron.” Mom loved oxymorons. “How long were you there?” I called.

“Six months.” She returned from the kitchen carrying the phone.

“So you move around all the time?”

“Pretty much. I’m pushing for an assignment in the Mediterranean, but we’ll see.” She grinned and held the phone out. “Call your mom before you change. She’s probably dying to talk to you.”

“Right.” I sighed. “Okay.”

I took the phone and dialed the number I’d memorized for the first day of kindergarten.

“Hey, Mom,” I said when she answered.

“Amanda, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been thinking about you. How was your trip?”

“Fine.” I really hoped she wouldn’t get all “mental health professional” on me. Usually, she was pretty cool. She wasn’t a touchy-feely psychologist but a medical doctor who prescribed medications. And I didn’t need any. Yet.

“I’m so glad you were able to get away for a while. It will do you some good. How’s Christie?”

“Great. You know, just the same old Christie.” I smiled so wide at my joke I thought my lips would crack.

Christie gave me a menacing glare, then grinned, and left the room.

“I really don’t understand her obsession with education,” Mom said.

“Mom, you have a medical degree, and Dad’s a law professor. What’s not to understand about Christie staying in school?” She wasn’t in school at all, but whatever.

“It’s different with her,” Mom said. “Oh, anyway. I want you to think about talking to someone. You know, about the divorce.”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“I know, but you really didn’t have the warning signs most children have. I just don’t think you were prepared for it.”

She had that part right. They’d never fought or anything. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Just think about it, okay?”

“I will. I have to go, though. I’m playing soccer with some people Christie knows.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Have fun, Sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” I hung up, relieved that I hadn’t had to lie to her.

Chapter Six

Will didn’t show at the soccer field, but his friend Colin did. I had an awesome time until Colin kicked the crap out of the back of my shin. My shinguards only protected the front of my shins, and it hurt like freakin’ crazy. I kept playing until the pain went away. I’m not about to be accused of crying like a girl, and not because I’m not one, but because real women don’t cry on the soccer field. Unless they break a bone.

When Christie picked me up, she suggested I ice it for a while. Normally, I wouldn’t bother, but my current school wardrobe consisted entirely of skirts. I figured I’d rather sit on the couch with an ice pack than sport a giant purple knot tomorrow.

Three hours of freezing ice and I still had a nasty bruise that could be seen from a mile away. Good thing I wasn’t interested in Will as a boyfriend, because soccer player or not, this disgusting thing on my leg would have to be a real turn off.

Too bad they didn’t require knee socks as part of the uniform.

I walked into the school, telling myself I was being silly when I tensed for the screams of horror.

Then, the shrieks started. “Ooh!”

Not so silly after all.

“Mandy,” a sing-song voice called.

I turned to find Jenny and Meg.

“It’s Amanda. Not Mandy.”

“What happened?” They kept moving around to the see the back of my leg.

I hadn’t been overly impressed with them the previous day and talking to them now rated very low on my list of priorities.

“You poor thing. That’s so . . . horrible.” Jenny couldn’t seem to take her eyes off it.

I finally gave up on talking to their faces and stood still for them to fully view the horror. “Really? I thought it was sexy.”

Meg deigned to return to the front of me. She wrinkled her nose.

I decided they just didn’t get my humor.

“It’s no big deal. I got kicked in the soccer scrimmage.”

Meg finally got her fill of the horror and joined the conversation. “It’s so ugly.”

Thanks. “Yeah, it hurt too.”

“I would just die if I had to walk around like that,” Jenny said, with enough feeling to put any drama queen to shame.

I started hoping that she’d sprout a bad case of acne tonight.

“I can’t believe you actually like to play soccer,” Jenny wrinkled her nose again. She must do that a lot.  

“I can’t be the only girl in the school who plays sports.”

Meg answered. “No, but you’re the only one who plays them with Will.”

So, that’s how it stood.

“Meg!”

“Sorry.” Meg didn’t look sorry.

So Jenny had a crush on Will.

“You know,” Jenny said, pausing as if she was about to impart some great wisdom, “Will doesn’t date.”