[Colt Information Agency 01.0] Agent Colt: Classified Pride Page 6

  “Perfect timing!” Vaneesa laughed as she let go of me and turned to the older man. “How does she look?”

  “Lovely, as always. Miss Colt, the gentleman is awaiting you downstairs. He just arrived at the lounge.”

  I turned to the mirrored closet doors and took one last glance over my outfit. A well-tailored black pantsuit gripped my frame and accentuated curves in a way I had never seen pants and a jacket do before. The white silk shirt underneath was beautiful, shiny and surprisingly comfortable. My hair was down, letting the wavy curls frame my face, which was done up with just a touch more makeup than I liked.

  But I had to admit I cut a pretty professional figure. Vaneesa was a miracle worker when it came to these things. I had become pretty good at it as the job demanded, but she had way more flair and attention to dress detail than I ever did. One more reason I was glad she was here. She had even insisted on a pedicure and peep-toe, sling-back heels.

  “Alright, so I am an heiress, which means I know what I’m talking about, but didn’t have to work hard to get where I am. So confident, yet playful. Right?” I asked them both.

  Vaneesa half-shrugged to say she was unsure, but Alonso nodded encouragingly.

  “And if you are at a loss as how to answer any questions, just tell him that you will write his inquiries down and have your assistant research them back at the office. No need to put yourself on the spot. As an heiress, it is doubtful that you do much of the work.” Alonso smiled and opened the door to the elevator for Vaneesa to walk through.

  Vaneesa grabbed my wrist and squeezed in assurance before turning and walking out the elevator door. Alonso closed it behind her and turned to open the door to my room.

  “Shall we?” Alonso held the door open for me, ushering me into the hallway.

  ~

  I had decided I didn’t like peep toe shoes well before I made it all the way to the Lounge. Or maybe these were just a bit too small. Either way, my big toes were cramped and pinched, and my stride had turned into a sort of duck waddle before we reached the lounge. I couldn’t wait to sit down. Alonso opened the double swing doors to the dimly lit lounge with a flourish that caused all three of its occupants to glance up as I walked in. Eyes on me forced me to walk straight again, and I just knew my toes would be swollen later. Damn these shoes!

  Philip waved at me from the back corner. He had chosen a round booth close to the bar, where Jacob was diligently drying out beer mugs and placing them below. I managed to walk the rest of the way to Philip’s table in a semi-graceful manner and sank onto the overstuffed seat in relief.

  As I sat, Philip had half way stood as if to greet me formally. I hope I didn’t just make a massive slip-up. Philip sat back down quickly.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Henderly,” Philip said, greeting me in a formal tone.

  “My apologies, Mr. Townsend, but these heels were a terrible impulse buy and are killing my feet. I just had to sit down. It was all I could do not to walk in here barefoot.” I put on my charming southern accent and smiled warmly at him. “Oh, and please do call me Tessa, we’ve met before so there’s no more need for formality.”

  “Walking in here barefoot would have raised some eyebrows, indeed.” Philip laughed. “And I will call you Tessa if you please call me Phil. I have always preferred to get the formalities out of the way quickly in business meetings.”

  “Now I didn’t bring any business brochures with me, as I’m not a salesman, and I am sure you’ve already checked over our energy solution products before now. But if there is anything you require I can have my assistant bring them over.”

  “Oh yes, I’ve read everything I could find. The one thing I couldn’t find was information on how well they work in hilly to mountainous regions.”

  “I’m not sure we’ve had a good chance to test the turbines in mountain settings. Currently, they are built in Texas and assembled and used mostly on the flat plains found there. We’ve had some talks about building a production facility in another state, but haven’t pinned down where yet. I was traveling a lot the last year, so I’m afraid I just may not know recent developments on that.”

  So far so good, easy answers, easy dodges. I felt pretty confident about leading him along business-wise. After a few more questions about business opportunities, I felt I needed to change the tone. Get him to open up a bit.

  I waved to Jacob at the bar to come over to our table.

  I made a show of peering at his name tag. “Jacob, is it? Well, Jacob, I am dying of thirst here, and I’d like a drink. I apologize, Phil, if that is rude of me to drink during our meeting, but my feet are still killing me, and I think that will be the only way to get back to my room!”

  Phil barked a sharp laugh, surprised by my bluntness. “Of course, I don’t mind! Jacob, please bring the lady a…?”

  “Martini. Single olive, please.”

  “And bring me a beer. Whatever is on tap, dark if you have it? And put it all on my tab.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Jacob.

  “Since this is a business meeting we’ll ring it up under my room. You are a potential customer, and I should be wooing you.” I batted my eyelashes at him in a playful manner.

  “Alright,” he said with a chuckle. “So be it. As long as you don't mind me ordering some food. I haven't eaten all day.”

  Jacob produced a couple of menus from the side of the bar and laid them in front of us before he went off to fetch our drinks. I quickly closed my menu without scanning it and watched as Jacob went about pouring the alcohol.

  “Not hungry?” Philip asked.

  “Oh, I am starving; I just already know what I am having.”

  “You certainly don't waste time with decisions, do you?” he said as he went back to browsing the menu, lips upturned in amusement.

  “Oh, I may take time with researching, but once I know what I want I go straight after it.” I followed up my statement with a direct stare at him.

  I glanced away from him just as his face flushed a bit. Thankfully Jacob chose that moment to come back with our drinks to save Phil his embarrassment. Finishing off half the martini straight away, I tapped the rim of the glass with my fingertip.

  “Another of these, please. And a grilled chicken salad, with extra Blue Cheese crumbles. They are a weakness of mine.” I said to Phil, with a small smile.

  Phil was watching me with wide eyes. “You are a different kind of woman, Tessa.”

  “I hope that won't hurt our growing relationship. Thank you,” This last I said to Jacob as he set my 'drink' down in front of me. The martinis held no alcohol and were merely being used to maintain my image of a living-life-large heiress. It was working, so far. Phil was on his third beer and starting to talk about his life growing up.

  Even though Phil didn't loosen up a whole lot at this meeting, it was only the beginning of this particular mission. We parted with a promise to meet up again the next day after I had a chance to obtain more of the information he was requesting. This time for dinner.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Back at base Vaneesa was overseeing the printing of brochures and letters of research and development on just about every available device. Henderly Energy was a fully functioning company and headquartered in Texas. So all the material she was printing out was real and based on facts. The only thing not factual was that, of course, my parents did not own this company. The CIA did. With a pair of good looking Southern Folk set up at the forefront as a complete cover.

  I was just arriving back from a tour of Palermo with the couple posing as my parents and trying to hurry so I could catch Vaneesa before she left for the night. The tour would have been enjoyable had I not been wearing an itty bitty skimpy bikini the whole time, and posing to make sure the CIA agents acting as paparazzi got plenty of scandalous pictures. The play was to turn my ‘family outing’ into a media disaster. I was sure the near naked pictures along with some photo touching would do that easily.

  Pushing the discomfort of the tour to t
he back of my mind, I hurried down the stairs from the main entrance to the sub – level containing the surveillance room. The need to continue mine and Vaneesa’s conversation from earlier had me rushing my steps, and my heart beating fast. Connecting with someone was so rare for me, that I felt rather addicted to it.

  Thankfully, Vaneesa was still in the communications room when I got there. Relieved that I caught her, I slowed to catch my breath as I walked over to her.

  “How was your tour through Palermo?” She asked me.

  “It would have been much better without the paparazzi, both real and CIA planted. It's always good acting practice, I guess,” I said, my tone unconvincing. I just wanted to forget the whole experience.

  “That’s what you get for being an heiress.” Vaneesa winked at me. “Well, we will ensure your scantily clad pictures get posted everywhere before tomorrow night. And there will be newspapers delivered to every room of your hotel, with you slathered on the cover.”

  “Oh, the Heiress in her state of undress should be quite scandalous. And if I've read Philip right, he'll be more inclined to sympathy than apathy after seeing it. I can definitely use it to garner some pity points, and that should open him up a bit.”

  “Ah, well, how open are you planning on getting him?” Vaneesa asked, her voice quiet.

  She was staring up at me with her huge dark eyes. This was the first time I've seen her so exposed; almost vulnerable. I could easily tell what she wanted to know.

  Seeing me tense up, she spoke again, “You can tell me your full plans with him. I'm not fragile.”

  I walked over to her and pulled her into a hug.

  “No, but I am feeling a bit fragile right now. I don’t bare my tan lines for just anyone, and now all Italy will soon be intimate with my pasty white rear. Can we shut down here and grab some food? We'll make devious plans on how to get Philip to spill his secrets over dinner.”

  Vaneesa wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed tight once before letting go. It was a quick hug, but, I realized, the first time I had had that much contact with her. Well, at least since the barrel-hug I had received upon my showy entrance into the base. I had been too stunned to enjoy it, then. As it was, I was reluctant to release her, but had to remember we were still on base, and Isaiah was most likely lurking around a corner somewhere. Still, the lost connection left me cold and lonely.

  I guess I was feeling pretty fragile.

  “Let's just head to your room and order a bunch of room service,” she suggested as she grabbed up her sweater wrap and handbag.

  “That sounds perfect.” I couldn't think of anything more perfect than food, wine and Vaneesa's company outside of work.

  I zipped us back to the hotel, trying to drive a little more safely than I usually would since Vaneesa was in the car. But from the broad grin and excitement on her face, she was enjoying the trip. For one fleeting moment, the temptation to just keep driving tickled the back of my mind. We could go enjoy ourselves, see some sights, get away from the demands of drill-sergeant Lyon and the leering stares of my partner.

  But of course, I took the turn into the hotel drive, like the well-trained government agent I was. I heaved an enormous sigh at the unfairness of it all and Vaneesa looked over at me with curiosity. I avoided her gaze as I drove past the group of men and women with cameras gathered around the lobby entrance.

  I had only driven the Porsche a handful of times, so most local folks didn’t know who it belonged to, yet. Of course, there were a couple of the paparazzi who followed the car towards the garage out of curiosity, but the guard at the gate stopped them. And they couldn’t see anything of us once we were past the private parking partitions.

  After I parked, we hastened toward the elevator, just in case of some sneaky picture taker, but we made it inside with no incident. I released the breath I was holding, relaxing just a touch as the doors slid closed and the carriage began to move upward. Vaneesa reached up and squeezed my shoulder, reassuring me that everything was alright.

  “Publicity makes you nervous, doesn’t it?” She asked.

  “Well, as agents, we’re trained from the start to avoid the public eye. Trained how to be virtually unseen in any situation. And when we’re seen, we are disguised and firmly undercover. This whole mission has had my nerves on end. I’ve had no disguise, which happens sometimes, but couple that with a high profile cover… it feels like a disaster waiting to happen. I’m not sure if I will be able to do any public facing missions for a long time after this.” The words came out in a rush, and I realized just how true they were. I loved, and lived, my job. If I could no longer play major roles in missions, then what? Insecurity gripped me hard.

  “And the small ridiculous things have become significant and stressful, because of it,” I added, thinking of Isaiah and his flirtatious ways. On most days I could brush his sexual innuendos off, but lately, they were digging in under my skin. The elevator had stopped, and I strode across my room and flung the closet open, dumping my bag in the corner with my shoes quickly following suit.

  “And because of me, too,” Vaneesa added in a quiet voice. She was still at the elevator doors, having walked forward just enough to step out before the doors closed again. She gazed at me with sad eyes for a mere second, then with a determined step she strode over to stand and stopped in front of me.

  “Tess, I can’t even begin to imagine everything you are going through. I know how rough things were in my last relationship because of my work with the CIA, but you are so much higher profile than I was then. Just know, that no matter what, I am here for you.” Her soft gaze penetrated what remained of my defenses, shattering me.

  I’m not sure which particular thing triggered my reaction at that moment. Maybe it was the caring way she looked at me or the fact that she spoke of her last relationship as if what we had qualified as one. Or maybe I was completely shattered. But what I did know was that I could no longer bear to be alone in this, and professionalism be damned.

  Reaching down around Vaneesa’s waist, I pulled her to me, lifting her off the ground. She reacted by wrapping her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, and planting a firm kiss on my lips. I turned us around and leaned down onto the bed, laying her down with her legs still tight around me.

  Our breasts pushed tight against one another, and I could feel the heat coming off her. Especially where she pressed against my navel. The kiss had deepened as soon as we hit the bed, tongues exploring each other. She tasted like cotton candy and breath mints. And she smelled like paradise.

  But of course, my control freak nature resumed its tight rein on my conscience, and I pulled back from her. She refused to let go, and I was still close enough to feel her breath on my face. She was wide-eyed and breathing fast. So was I. After a long moment of staring into her dark eyes, I leaned forward again and rested my forehead on hers.

  “I think this is where I am supposed to say ‘That shouldn’t have happened,’ but I’m not going to.”

  “Good,” she replied. “Because it did, and I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

  I planted a soft kiss on her nose and eased myself out of her grasp. I crawled up onto the bed as she sat up, moving behind me. Vaneesa wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed herself close, leaning her head on my shoulder. We sat that way for a while, comfortably silent, with my hands resting on hers.

  My stomach grumbling broke the silence.

  “How about that room service?” Vaneesa said, giggling.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A fruit platter was empty on the bedside table, with a dusting of crumbs from the finger sandwiches spread over it. Two glasses sat next to the tray, empty, with a bottle of white wine resting in a bucket of ice, only a few drops left at the bottom.

  The enormous slice of chocolate cake rested on the bed between Vaneesa and me, and she took turns between making loud ‘mmmm’ noises and feeding me moist forkfuls. Nothing ever seemed to faze her workwise, but seeing her completely re
laxed here made me feel as if something was finally right in my life since leaving Texas.

  We had been plotting Philip’s downfall since the arrival of the food and had come up with some crazy scenarios on top of a few good ideas. I realized one thing that every one of those scenarios had in common. The lack of involvement of my partner. Stabbed by guilt, I felt terrible sitting here absorbed in my own pleasures, and forgetting about Isaiah.

  “I wonder how Isaiah is dealing with this mission. Nothing seems to include him, except for a couple of backdrops and being involved in random planning and intel gathering.”

  Vaneesa stopped and stared at me, fork halfway to her mouth. Blinking, she popped the bite of cake into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully before answering.

  “Well, besides the fact that he is a pig, he is a good agent. This has to be getting under his skin pretty good, fed everything second hand. I mean, even the lunch with Philip went forward without Isaiah being there. I didn’t think about it at the time, but I wonder why he wasn’t included?”

  “Do you think he has been left out on purpose?”

  “I believe that this whole situation was unplanned, and we are handling it the best way we can. We had no Intel on anyone here before we settled in. The direction given to us was to set up a base of operations and a full cover. We’ve still managed to do that, but then we kinda fell head first into this case. Now we move forward like the calculated professionals that we are, and kick some butt!” Vaneesa giggled after she said this, and it was obvious the wine and sugar were having its effect on her.

  Her giggle made me smile, though, and I accepted the bite of cake she offered me.

  “You know, Colonel Lyon hasn’t given us any defined roles, besides my cover as an heiress. You think he’s testing us? I’ve always had my orders and Intel laid out in specifics, and now that I’m in the planning seat I feel like we’ve just gone different ways. There’s no cohesion.” I was pretty confused about it all. “And more than that, something just feels off about this case. I had thought at first it was due to the lack of planning, plunging in, so to speak, but now I’m not so sure. There’s something about Philip. He just doesn’t feel like a bad guy.”