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“I don’t want to.”
“You never want to. What’s the deal, anyway? That tech guy was flirting with you a few weeks ago. But he was a no-go. I know for a fact that analyst Bill or Bob or whatever asked you out. And don’t forget your FBI bomb tech. Hewas—probably stillis—completely obsessed with you. He’s inhaled too many fumes if you ask me.” She giggled. “I get paid to know these things.”
“All those men are boring. But Cash… that’s complicated.”
“Nope. It’s really easy. If it gets serious, I have a form you can fill out. Same form you filled out when dating your—”
Her phone buzzed. It was her roommate—talk about timing—and she sent the call to voicemail. “We were never serious, and I didn’t fill out paperwork.”
“It’s simple. It says I’m sleeping with what’s-his-name and promise not to divulge national secrets during pillow talk. Oh, and I give my handler permission to pillage through his personal life without him knowing.”
“I’ve worked so-o-o hard to get here.” Yup, too many Os in that so. Very professional. Oh well. “I want them to respect me.” Respect sounded funny. She mouthed the word a couple of times.
“Them?”
“All the men we work with.” She tried to mouth respect again. It still felt off.
Beth pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “They do respect you.”
“No, they don’t. They all think women at the Agency want to be saved by a man, whether we know it or not. That they’re supposed to be our superhero saviors, and I’m just waiting to see who gets to save me. Everything’s a game.” She shook her head, slurring her words together. “This is probably a game. You aren’t my best friend, but some analyst doing a psychological, behavioral workup on me right now. Shit, this will end up in my file.”
“Nope. Promise.”
She laughed, shaking a finger at her handler. “I don’t believe you, Miss Beth-the-Handler.”
“Pinky-swear. Nothing leaves these walls.” Nicola shot her a look. “Nothing’s transmitting from these walls. How about that?”
“Hmm, maybe a little better.”
“How about this? In January, I totally had a thing with Michael.”
“Oh my God. He’s our boss. He’s your boss. He’s like super-duper, everyone’s boss. And, have mercy, he is so hot.”
“Right?”
Nicola nodded like her head was on marionette strings. “I can’t believe you never told me!”
“And I didn’t report it.”
Nicola finished the last sips in her plastic cup. “We should have found bigger cups. These little drinks go too fast.”
“Or we’re drinking too much.”
“I don’t know. I think we’re drinking the right amount, given my day. Pink this time, please.”
Beth topped off her vodka. At least Nic’s hiccups were gone. That was a bonus.
Nicola took a sip. “Okay, my confession. I don’t want to leave my job. I love it. Yeah, you can note that part in my file, please. But Cash doesn’t see it. He doesn’t know that me. And if I fall in love with him all over again, and he hates this me, I won’t be able to take it.”
“That’s ridiculous, Nic.”
It might be, but it was her fear. She took a huge suck on her straw. Pink might be a little better. Sweeter. “He loved college me. I liked me then too, but now I’m run-around-the-world-with-a-gun me.” A quick gasp of a hiccup made her squeak. “Damn it!”
Beth laughed then snorted.
Nicola pointed. “I heard that!”
They both laughed. Another snort. Another hiccup. More laughing.