But even as the thoughts tumble through my head, I hear an echo of Nick’s earlier warning—That’s not the worst-case scenario, and you know it…
No, the worst-case scenario is I look back on all this in a few years and realize that I was a fool and a coward. The worst case is I see Nick with another woman, one he’s fallen madly in love with, and secretly wish I’d taken the chance.
Because maybe I have a little bit of a crush, too. Maybe I always have, ever since the day I held Nick under the water and he popped up, big eyes sparkling, ready for more. Even then, at only five years old, I knew a kindred spirit when I met one.
Since then, I haven’t met many, and none who made me feel the way Nick does. With him, I feel seen, really seen, in a way I never have before. And it isn’t just because he knows I’m a spy. It’s because he sees the things I try to hide and seems to like me more for them, not less.
So maybe…
Before I can track down the other half of the thought, Nick is in the doorway. “Hey, Blaire thinks Stefano’s making a move with the arms today. She just got some new intel. She thinks I should trail him while you watch the beach for a boat big enough to transport a fuck ton of artillery.”
I stand, relief coursing through me as I smooth the front of my dress. “I’ll change into my suit and cover-up and head down.”
Real work to do—this is good.
And some time apart, too. Double bonus.
“Great,” Nick says, motioning over his shoulder. “I’ll go now. I think I have an idea where to find Stefano. Thom mentioned a volleyball game when I ran into him this morning. I can’t imagine Stefano would miss it, even on an important business day. He lives to smash balls in people’s faces.”
“Sounds good.” I bite back a plea that he be careful. Of course, he’ll be careful. He’s an experienced operative—careful is in his DNA by this point. And the request would be from a place of personal concern, which isn’t really appropriate.
We’re on a job, so we should keep things professional. Anything else is a distraction we can’t afford.
Vowing to stay laser-focused on the mission, I wave goodbye to Nick, change clothes, and head for the walkway to the beach.
I’ve barely rounded the first turn, however, when I nearly collide, face first, with my cousin.
“Oh, my God.” I stumble back a step, nearly tripping over a crack in the pavement before Bea steadies me with a hand on my arm.
“There you are,” she says, laughing nervously. “I was coming to find you.”
“I thought you were napping.” I force a smile as I try to think of a good excuse to ditch Beatrice. I’d really rather be alone on the beach. It will be easier to focus without cousin chatter in the background.
Bea sighs. “I was trying, but then Tony showed up, slamming his fist on the door to our room, acting all weird.” Her brows furrow as she plucks at her bottom lip. “And then Stefano ordered me to ‘stay in bed’ in this mean voice and left. And I just…” She crosses her arms over her chest with another sigh. “It made me so angry. But not at him, at myself.” Her searching gaze meets mine. “Am I doing it again, Zan? Getting mixed up with someone who’s going to turn out to be a bully? Because I really don’t want that. I have no idea why I keep attracting men who don’t respect me, but I do, and… I don’t know. I need girl talk. Honest girl talk.”
I nod calmly, even as my heart pumps harder in my chest. I don’t like hearing that Stefano was upset. And I like even less hearing that he was trying to isolate Bea because of it. “Let’s go to the beach and talk. Fewer people around to interrupt us there.” I reach out, squeezing her slim shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.”
“Thank you so much.” Bea’s breath rushes out. “Just let me tell Stefano where I’m going so he doesn’t freak out if he comes back to the room and sees I’m not there.” She reaches into the pocket of her white linen pants, pulling out the key chain from yesterday with the digital pet attached.
It seemed odd then.
Today, it sets off alarm bells.
“You’re texting him?” I point at the device. “On that?”
“Yeah.” Bea lets out a nervous laugh as she waggles the key chain in one hand. “It’s not just a game. It’s also my tracking device.”
My brows pinch together. “What?”
“I’m kidding,” she says with a self-conscious shrug. “I mean, it sort of is, but I’m not the only one he’s keeping tabs on. Stefano gives one to all his close friends and business associates. It’s like…a secret society.” She punches a button and turns the screen to face me, revealing a digital tiger licking its paw. “It’s a Digi-Mal.” She presses another button on the side twice, and the display changes to a text screen. “But it’s also an old-school pager. You can send messages on it, and when it’s charged, it gives off a signal that lets him know where I am. He’s paranoid about the government tracking his private cell phone messages.” She lowers her voice. “He’s gone down the conspiracy theory rabbit hole, but…no one’s perfect, right? At least he isn’t an art smuggler. Or married.” She wrinkles her nose. “Or am I excusing something I shouldn’t? I mean, he also carries his gun everywhere, and that’s not something I ever thought I’d be okay with. I’m anti-gun, you know that. They scare me even when police and military people are carrying them, let alone my boyfriend.”