AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ana empties her champagne flute. That’s her third since we arrived. A good boyfriend would join her in celebration. But I’m only that in name.
The point of tonight is to watch Ana up close and from afar. An event like this gives me a picture of who has access to her and in what contexts their connections are made. I don’t need the details of the conversations.
I make a few observations.
First, Ana works the room like a consummate host, yet she’s never warm, never leaning in, never laughing freely. There’s a coldness to her behavior that hadn’t been there before. She’s on her guard all the time. That’s good, in a way, considering the danger she’s currently facing. But where’s the girl whose passion was genuine and whose joy made her eyes twinkle? Not here.
Second, she’s tired. Her chin is up and her sass is nonstop, yet there’s a strain to her shoulders. A sixteen-hour workday is typical for Ana, which leaves little room for anything but sleep. There’s no balance. She looks like a woman who never fully exhales. The weight of all that tension has accumulated in her body. I’d love to lighten her burden somehow, even if I’m the last person she would want for the job.
Ana takes another champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter. There are fancy appetizers circulating through the room, but I haven’t seen her grab any of those. I’m about to get one of the tenderloin bites for her—and for me—when my phone buzzes again.
Finding a spot in a darkened corner where I can still keep my eyes on Ana, I answer the phone. “Got news already?”
“Bryce, we followed the car to a location toward Richmond, Virginia. It parked inside an old gas station. That’s why it had been hard to trace via highway and city surveillance.”
“Figure out who owns that site. And then get me a fucking name.”
“Even better. The driver left in another car and headed to a diner a few exits over. He met a guy. Thought you’d want to know who these clowns are.”
“You thought correctly.”
“Ran the plates. The driver is a private investigator by the name of Eliot Briggs. The man he met owns a car registered under the name of Lysander Wolfson. Want us to watch them for a while?”
“Did you say Lysander Wolfson? Lobbyist working the Virginia State House?”
“Let me look into it.”
I grunt my impatience. “Tall, brown hair, looks like that English actor who plays Doctor Strange.”
“That’s it!” Louis exclaims. “Benedict Cumber-something, right?”
It’s that asshole Ana was seeing when she first moved to Virginia. What the hell is her ex-boyfriend doing with a PI?
“I assume you’ve pulled their current addresses?”
“Yup, we’ve got it.”
“Run the program with facial recognition. See if either one is linked to Ana from the last two years since she’s moved back to the US,” I instruct him. He’ll find some of Ana and Lysander together, but maybe there’s more that links her to the PI.
From my vantage point, I observe Ana’s long gulp of her fourth drink. “I gotta go. Send me an encrypted report by email. And don’t approach. I’ll talk to them myself if necessary.”
I make my way to Ana and wrap my arms around her waist to get her attention. When the flute pauses before touching her lips, I slip it from her fingers.
“Don’t mind if I do, darling,” I drone, taking the rest of the crisp bubbly drink. “Let’s go for a walk and find food. Isn’t this fundraiser a thousand bucks a head? We’re not even getting a sit-down dinner.”
“Thank god. Getting stuck with these people for a full service would be torture,” she whispers before straightening her back and remembering I’m not someone she confides in. “There are more tables in the other room, though, if you need food. Not that you’re in any risk of muscle atrophy.”
I beam at her. “Is that your way of saying I look big and strong, honey bunch?”
“Ugh, stop with all the cheesy nicknames.”
“Testing them all out. Nothing sounds quite right, does it, babe?”
She shudders. “Definitely not babe. That’s what every Cali boy called me when I was in college.”
That stings a bit, knowing guys felt comfortable calling her anything other than her full, formal name. Of course I’m being ridiculous. We weren’t even on speaking terms at the time.
“I’ll stop if you promise to eat something, Ana.” She opens her mouth to protest. I use a finger to tilt her chin up, silencing her objection. “Liquid diet doesn’t count.”
