Undercover Engagement (7 page)

I
didn’t hang out at the ice cream shop for long. The girl behind the counter had heard everything and kept giving me you-are-an-idiot looks. It's hard to wallow when a teenager is grunting her disapproval in your general direction.

All the way home I indulged in my pet sin: 80’s hard rock. Bon Jovi and Aerosmith blasted my senses until I felt nothing inside but the pounding beat of the big bass drum. My ears rang with the screech of a lead guitar as I walked to my apartment. Dropping my purse on the table, I locked the door behind me. I took my engagement ring off and set it on the coffee table. The darn thing winked at me as I stared, stuffing my guilty face with the now goopy ice cream. One question rolled over in my head:
How do you know if you really love someone
?

Forget the money, the vacations, the lifestyle and, yep, even the car. Focus on the man.

The man who outgunned my dad.

I laughed a little.

The man who lied to me about his job.

Shrug. He sort of had to.

A secret identity is not something you tell a person on a first date. I couldn't help but wonder if he was ever going to tell me about his alter-ego or if he would have let me spend a lifetime in blissful ignorance. 

The man who gives me goose bumps just by being near.

I shook my head.
That’s not love, that’s physical attraction
.

It’s a part of love.

Shrug.

Jason loved
me
. That much I was sure of. He was willing to quit a job he excelled at, a job he loved, in order to be with me. That was a big deal. But I couldn't love a person just because they loved me. 

I thought of his laugh and the way he made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman on the planet. I'd had boyfriends before who did nice things for me and made me feel special, but Jason took it one step further. When I was with him, I felt complete in several ways. Most of all, when I was with him, I was a better person not because I wanted to please him, but because he brought out the best in me.
He couldn't fake that, could he
?

I pressed my hands to either side of my head. I wasn’t any closer to figuring this out than I was when I sat down. I looked at my now empty cup sitting on the table in front of me. I
was
a lot closer to a chocolate overdose.

Popping two regular strength Tylenol, I pulled on my pajamas and climbed into bed. My love life would have to wait until morning.

Maybe, with enough sleep, I could clear my head.

B
ang! Bang! Bang!

What the ... what?
I lifted my head off the pillow to check the alarm clock – 4:37 a.m.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Who?
Struggling against slumber’s pull, I staggered to the door; pausing just long enough to make sure I was fully covered.

In that moment of modesty, last night’s caper filled my mind and I hesitated, my hand on the knob. I peeked through the peep hole. There was a guy. He had black hair with a blue cast; wore a studded dog collar and black eyeliner; and he was still pounding on my door. Was he high? I contemplated going back to bed when I saw him reach for the door handle. I jumped back as he jiggled it.

“Come on, Alyssa!” he called.

Jason
?

I jumped back to the peep hole and took a closer look. Beneath the black-attack wrapping, I saw Jason’s strong shoulders and defined features. The guy had totally flipped out over our breakup, well break. What was he trying to do, guilt me into marrying him? How annoying. I pulled the door open.

“So much for space,” I snapped.

He smirked and walked right past me to my bedroom. I slammed the door behind him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He grabbed a pair of my jeans and a sweatshirt from the walk-in closet. “Throw these on.”

Folding my arms, I stood my ground. “No.” I glared.

“I have to get you out of here. Now!”

The icy tone in his voice gave me reason enough to listen. “Why?”

“You’re on The List.” He handed me a folded paper from his back pocket. “I’ll find your shoes.” He disappeared into my walk-in closet.

I unfolded the paper, unsure if I even wanted to know what was on it. My own face stared back – along with a price tag of $50,000. I threw on my clothes.

“Jason?!” Panic filled my voice and my body making it difficult to get my feet through the pant leg. The picture was taken just hours ago, I recognized the outfit. Looking at the background, I saw George Washington on one knee in the painting behind me. Buttoning my pants, I called, “How did he take this picture?”

Jason came in shaking his head in self-reproach. “It was the camera on the laptop. He had it set to take a picture every time it booted up.” He wouldn’t look at me. “I didn’t know.” He kicked my bed. “Honest, Alyssa. I never would have gotten you involved in this if I thought you’d be in danger. Please believe me, the last thing I wanted was this.” He pointed a painted black fingernail at the page in my hand.

I swallowed, my chocolate creation threatening to make an appearance. “What now?”

“You’ll have to go into protective custody until we finish the case against Devin.”

That didn't sound too bad. I could handle a bodyguard for a day or two. “Okay. How long will that take?”

“Hopefully, just a couple of weeks, but it could be longer.”

I blew out a deep breath. My determination went with it. What did I have to stick around here for anyway? Now that Devin knew I was the one on his computer, I definitely didn’t have a job in the morning. What was I talking about, it
was
morning. “Let me just pack up my laptop.”

“Sorry, Sweets.” Jason grabbed my hand. “No personal effects.”

I snagged my purse on the way out the door anyway. If bad guys were going to enter my apartment, I wasn’t going to leave my wallet laying around. I glanced over at my car, wondering when I would see it again. I also wondered if I remembered to lock it. I grabbed the keys out of my purse and hit the lock button. Three seconds later my car mushroomed into a fireball screaming into the dark morning sky.

Before understanding clicked, Jason and I were thrown to the ground by the explosion’s percussion. My ears rang and my palms burned. Jason was quicker to recover than I was. He grabbed me around the waist, hauling me to a standing position. We ran to his car parked in the visitor’s area. I slammed the protective door shut as he peeled away from the curb.

We drove in tense silence; Jason watching for followers and me gulping down the bile that continually tried to climb up my throat. My body shook. I was aware enough to sense a major overload coming on. Jason turned on my seat warmer and after a couple of minutes, I stopped quaking.

Once we were on I-15, he relaxed into the welcoming leather.

“Thanks,” I said.

“For what?”

“For coming for me.” I knew, without a doubt, that I would have died on my way to work if Jason hadn’t come to rescue me. His love for me was so strong!

“I had to.” He checked the rear-view mirror again. My resolve to be annoyed with him slipped away. He was seriously the best undercover fiancé a girl could ask for. I was ready to lace my fingers with his and never let go.

Then he added. “It’s part of the job.”

I felt like sticking my tongue out at him like a third grader on the school bus. “Is dressing like that part of the job too, or is this the real you?”

“Job. I’m all about business.”

“Fine.” His cold shoulder was getting on my nerves, but I was the one that wanted space. If we had to be in the same car, at least we could be professional. “Where are we going?”

“You need to look different than that picture.”

“Like a makeover?”

“Extreme makeover – spy style.”

“I can’t wait.” I threw the seat back and feigned disinterest. Inside, I was as nervous as a first-time investor.

 We pulled into a nondescript South Jordan neighborhood a few minutes from the freeway. The homes were as normal as could be with bikes and scooters strewn about the lawns and side walk chalk artwork on the driveways.

A path led from the driveway, around to the side of the garage where a light glowed in the early morning gloom. Jason knocked three times on the door.

A cute, twenty-something woman with blonde hair to her waist answered the door. Recognition brought a smile to her face. “Robert! So good to see you again.” She held the door open wide, inviting us in.

Robert
? I held my gaze steady. Of course, he had more than one fake name.

“I just got your text.” She turned on me. “Is this the girl?”

“Yeah.” He pushed me forward. “I’ll be back in about an hour with her clothes. Do what you can to punk her out.”

“No problem.” She waved him off at the same time she pulled me in to her small salon. While she rummaged through bottles of hair cream and buckets of makeup, I took in the single sink, mirrored wall, and lone chair.

“Let’s get started.” She practically bounced in anticipation as she threw a cape over my shoulders.

“I’m not sure...”

“Don’t worry.” She turned on the warm water, leaned my chair back, and washed out the product from the day before. “Robert gave me instructions. You just sit back and relax.” She took a very dark bottle off the counter. “Before you know it, you’ll be a whole new person.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

T
he dark bottle turned out to be a leave-in, wash-out coloring agent: black. The color did nothing for my skin tone except to make me look like I needed a week-long vacation somewhere with lots of sun.

“At least, it doesn’t have the blue in it like Jas... I mean Robert’s does,” I said as I turned my head in different directions to take in the full effect.

“That’s what he gets for doing it on his own,” Tiffany harrumphed.

“Do you do this kind of thing often?”

She laughed. “Do you mean five a.m. appointments or drastic makeovers?” She was painting my nails a sparkly purple color. “Don’t move those for the next five minutes.”

“Drastic makeovers.”

Horror filled my soul as Tiffany expertly painted tattoos on the underside of my wrist. The bluish-black ink gave the tattoo an aged look. Under my watchful eye three small butterflies took shape. If these had been permanent, my mother would never again let me darken her door. Considering they would wash off with warm water, I could appreciate Tiffany’s skill with the brush. “You’re really good.”

She laughed again
. Man was she perky for five in the morning
. “I don’t do many of these makeovers. Most of my clients are ladies in my neighborhood. But, I have an on-going contract with, well I can’t tell you who with, so when the phone rings I get to work. Look down.”

My eyes went to the floor while she glued blue eyelashes in place. After a quick dab of black here and a swoop of grey there she spun my chair around to face the mirror. The punk girl staring back at me looked hard. I explored the image for some sign of the woman who conducts children's Sunday school meetings and couldn’t find a trace of her simple elegance anywhere. I still had on my Utah State sweatshirt and straight-leg jeans, but everything else had been transformed.

Three taps on the door and Jason barged in. He pulled up short at the sight of me. “Wow.”

“Too much?” Tiffany asked.

“Nope.” He smiled. “Here, go put these on.” He handed me a bag of clothes and pointed to the bathroom door.

“Yes, Sir.” I resisted the urge to salute him.

He ignored me, turning to ask Tiffany, “Can I get a tat, too?”

I rolled my eyes. The bathroom was cramped but clean. I put on the black jeans, sucking in, in order to zip them up. At least Jason thought I was that thin.
Criminy
. I used a spray bottle from the counter and spritzed the jeans down. The fabric stretched as I did a few deep knee bends.
Ha
! I hadn’t done that trick since my junior year of high school. Breathing easier, I smiled.
Still works
.

The purple-and-black-striped shirt complimented Tiffany’s nail-job. A chunky metal bracelet and black studs for my ears completed the edgy look, and the checkered Ked’s fit perfectly. Once again, Jason had thought of everything.

Stepping out for my reveal, I gasped. A large red and black snake wound its way up Jason’s right arm and across his shoulder – pausing in mid-strike right below his ear. The snake looked even more deadly because of the defined muscles it curled across. My heart bounced back and forth between my belly button and my collarbone.
Wowzers
!

As Tiffany leaned close to add shading to the snake's jaw, I felt a spike of jealousy. It bothered me to see her so close to Jason’s bare skin.

I cleared my throat trying to find my voice. “I’m ready.” I dropped my hands to my sides.

“Almost done,” Tiffany said. She added an extra-long fang below Jason’s jaw line so it looked like the snake was ready to strike. “There. Hold still.” Using a blow drier, she sped the drying process along.

Why does he get a snake and I get butterflies
? I pouted out my lip. Wait. Was I really jealous of his fake tattoo? What was happening to me? I looked like a different person, that didn’t mean I
was
a different person. Still, this walk on the wild side had its appeal. I felt powerful and free in a way I never experienced in high heels and business suits.

While Jason put his shirt back on (sigh), Tiffany gave me a quick hug. “Good luck.”

Okay, she was a kind person and not after Jason or his body and I should be nice to her. “Thanks.”

Jason held the door open for me. “See you,” he called over his shoulder.

“Now where are we going?” I sulked into the car.

“We have a rendezvous in forty-five minutes at Temple Square.”

Sure, a couple of people dressed in black and snake tattoos wouldn’t attract any attention in the middle of Mormon headquarters.
Very inconspicuous.

“Who are we meeting?” I chewed my lip. Tiffany was nice, but I wasn’t sure how many other people I wanted to meet in this group.

“Your new guardian.”

“Why do I need a new guardian?”

“In light of our,” he cleared his throat, “personal relationship, Mr. Stone thought it best to transfer you to someone else for safe keeping.”

“What does our relationship have to do with it?”

“Agents tend to be less rational when the target is someone they care about.”

“So, I won’t see you until this is over?”

Jason tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. “That’s right.”

I picked at my purple nail polish. I’d wanted space, demanded it, in fact. But not this much space. I’d only wanted a couple of days, tops, to think things through and decide where I stood. Now, I faced weeks, possibly months, with no Jason. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable in my too-tight jeans and the recent turn of events.

He parked in a multi-level lot. “Here’s how we do this.” His eyes were apologetic, but I couldn’t catch any feeling in his voice. If we had been on the phone, I would have thought he thought of me only as his next drop off. But, I could see the concern, and the deep love, in his expression.

Acknowledging his emotions brought mine to the surface. Tears pooled in my black-lined eyes, threatening to ruin Tiffany’s hard work. I dabbed them with the pads of my fingers. Jason pulled my chin up. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I know. It’s just all happening so fast.” I sniffed, wishing for a tissue to appear. Jason reached across me, opening the glove box. Poof, tissues. “Thanks.”

Checking his super-hooty spy phone, Jason continued, “We are headed to Temple Square. The LDS church has their own security – cameras, motion sensors, guards – the works. No one breaks into their system and it’s impossible to bribe your way in. We know their property is invisible to Devin and his crew and we’re going to use that to our advantage. You know the rules they have about PDAs on Temple Square?”

I nodded. The LDS Church owned the street next to the temple. Because it was private property, they could make their own rules, like no demonstrating, no smoking, and no making out in the area surrounding the reflection pool. If people did lock lips, they were asked by church security to leave.

“We have seven minutes to get you to the rendezvous. Once there, I’ll kiss you and an agent will come by and tell us we have to leave the grounds. I'll ask you to come with me and you refuse – call me a name or something, it will sound better. He'll haul you away and deliver you to another safe house and I will deliver the information to Mr. Stone.” He held up the flash drive.

Two deep breaths. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry. You look completely different. I don’t think I would recognize you if you walked up and kissed me.”

Insert high-pitched giggle. I was more nervous about the drop off than I was about kissing Jason.
That
I could do all day long. This felt more like a kiss goodbye and I was having a hard time keeping the hysteria down.

He shook his head at my insanity. “Let’s go.”

The walk wasn’t long. We were sitting in front of the reflecting pool across from the Salt Lake Temple before my stomach registered that it should be upset. Staring up at the spires, I held tight to Jason’s arm. Usually, when I sat near the temple, in December when all the Christmas lights were on and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s latest Christmas album pumped through the air or during my lunch break, I found calm. Today, my emotions were all over the place. I couldn’t seem to settle my mind any more than I could slow my wildly beating heart.

“Hey, do you have to cut off my circulation?” Jason extracted my nails from his forearm.

“Sorry.”

“Relax.”

“I’m trying,” I snapped.

“What is your deal?”

I shook my hands, keeping my fingers loose. “I don’t feel right.”

Jason hooked his hand around my waist and kissed me like it was our last moment on earth. I melted into him. Who knew kissing was a great way to relieve stress? Okay, someone probably knew, but this was the first time I’d thought about it. Except at that moment, I wasn’t thinking about anything except for the way his love poured into me, as if he was trying to say everything we didn’t have time to say before. I answered, grabbing his shirt and holding him in place.

“Excuse me, Sir, public displays of affection are not permitted on the grounds. You two will have to leave the premises.” A large man in a dark business suit stood before us.

Jason feigned anger. “This sucks!” His arms fell away and he puffed out his chest. I had to admit, his posture was intimidating and that snake on his neck pulsed as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

“Maybe we should go,” I said quietly. My hot cheeks and lowered chin weren’t part of an act. I was completely embarrassed to be caught kissing
that way
on Temple Square. What we’d shared in that moment was private and I didn’t think twice about broadcasting it to the world.

“You can’t make us leave.” Jason jutted out his chin. I knew he was just putting on a show, but the looks from the elderly couple to our left and the photographer to our right, were enough to make my cheeks flame.

“Jason, this is private property and you need to vacate the premises immediately,” said my new body guard.

Jason threw up his hands “We were just hanging out.”

The guy folded his arms.

Jason fumed. “I’m out of here. You coming?”

I wanted to. Every part of me wanted to follow him back to his car, buckle my seat belt, and drive off into the safety of the unknown. In spite of all that, I stuck to my part of the script. Jason had told me that if this was going to work, I had to have a little attitude. “Not with you.”

“Fine.” Jason stormed away, his thick leather boots clomping a path through the light crowd. He stopped to wait for the light. I watched, but he didn’t look back.

“Miss, if you’re not leaving then you’ll need to come with me.” The burly man gestured for me to go in front of him.

I felt a weight on my chest the moment my foot hit the concrete. I swallowed back the sour taste of fear. The man led me toward the same parking lot Jason had parked in.

Needing some reassurance, I searched for Jason’s dark form ahead of us, but he was long gone. Probably on his way to his precious drop off. I traced my finger over my butterfly tattoo. I should have at least thanked him for everything he’d done.

The pressure on my heart was powerful, like the time I’d awakened in the middle of the night and knew I needed to check on Millie. Dad woke up as I pulled the four-wheeler out of the garage and followed. Millie was on her side, the foal trying to come, but turned the wrong way. If I hadn’t checked on her...

The need to be with Jason filled me from the checkered shoes to the top of my punked black hair. That need was the only thing I could think about. It washed out every other thought, every feeling, and every preplanned action. I pulled on my escort’s arm. “I need to find Jason. I didn’t tell him goodbye.”

“No contact.” We entered the artificial light of the parking garage. The elevator took us to the top level. My escort checked his phone on the way up. An iPhone, I noted. Not as fancy as Jason’s, but still better than anything I could get at the Sprint Store. Maybe they gave you better gear the longer you worked with the agency. I shifted my weight, working up the nerve to plead my case.

“I understand the rules, it’s just that I need to see him again before we go.”

He yanked me through the open elevator doors. The top level was vacant except for one black sedan parked next to a circular concrete support beam in the middle of the open space.

“No,” he said

I yanked back. If I was going to spend the next couple weeks with this guy, he might as well know I expected to be treated with respect. “I’m not going one more step unless I talk to Jason.”

He turned on me, towering over me like a monster in a spook ally. “You’re gonna do what I say, when I say it. Do you understand?”

I glared. “No!” I stepped back. I could find Jason on my own. All I had to do was get to a phone and call him. He wouldn’t like this guy manhandling me like a sheep on the way to the county fair.

Catching my arm, he kept me from running away. “Listen, Sugar, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone!” I glared at his hand hooked on my arm.