Into the Storm (5 page)

“I make him uncomfortable,” Sophia said. “The least I can do is—”

“Why do you always do what Decker wants?” Dave asked her.

It was a good question.

But the answer was easy. “I owe him,” she whispered, “so much. You know that.”

She still had nightmares. Her dreams were a twisting of her memories, of fleeing for her life on the streets of the lawless city of Kazabek, hunted by a man who wouldn’t have hesitated to separate her head from her shoulders. Sometimes, in her dreams, he caught her. Sometimes, though, it was Decker who found her first.

Either way, she woke up with her heart pounding.

Dave moved her hand off the phone, squeezing it before he let her go. “It’s been almost two years,” he told her. “I think you probably paid him back. It’s time to start thinking about what you owe yourself.” He stood up. “If you want to go out to lunch, my schedule’s clear—I’ll go with you. But maybe, today, we should eat in.”

After he got back from grabbing a quick sandwich, Jenk found Lindsey Fontaine in Troubleshooter XO Alyssa Locke’s office.

She was showing Alyssa how to input information onto the office calendar, leaning over her shoulder to gaze at the computer monitor.

“That’s right,” Lindsey said. “Now, see, it comes up in blue on the screen because it’s a personal appointment. And you don’t need to be specific, because it’s no one’s business
why
you’re taking lost time, but at the same time, it lets the rest of us know that you’re unavailable on Tuesday between two and five.”

Jenk knocked on the door, and both women looked up at him—one African American, one Asian American. With white boy Jenk in the room, it was like being part of the “Small World” ride at Disney.

Or in a video game.

More than Lindsey’s name was androgynous. With her black hair cut short, almost like a bathing cap on her head, she reminded him of a character in a Japanese anime adventure. Of course, much of that had to do with the way she dressed. In that Hawaiian shirt and cargo pants, sandals on her feet, she could have passed for a Japanese boy.

A very, very pretty Japanese boy, with huge brown eyes, a heart-shaped face, delicate gracefully shaped lips, and an almost-elfishly pointed chin.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he addressed Alyssa. “Lindsey, when you’re done here, would you mind…?”

Alyssa glanced at the smaller woman. “We’re done. I get how the program works.”

“Yeah, well, see, there’s more to it than
getting
it,” Lindsey told her. It was impressive—she was talking to Alyssa as if Alyssa didn’t totally intimidate her. Jenk had known the Troubleshooters’ executive officer for years, and he still ma’amed her to death whenever he spoke to her. Maybe it was out of fear that if he didn’t, she would smite him with her evil eye.

Of course, since she and Jenk’s old teammate Sam Starrett had gotten married, her use of her evil eye had dramatically decreased. Probably because—in the past—it had been Sam himself that she’d used it on most often.

Lindsey actually leaned on Alyssa’s desk. And spoke to her sternly. “The calendar program doesn’t work unless we all
use
it. Which means that after I leave here, you will actually have to take the ten minutes and input all of your upcoming appointments. And I’m talking now, not later. Not an hour from now or tomorrow. Not even
in a minute.
Now. Do we have an understanding here?”

“Now,” Alyssa repeated obediently.

“If you’re lying to me,” Lindsey warned her, as she came out from behind Alyssa’s desk, toward Jenk, “I’m going to come back here, and it’s going to get ugly.”

“I’m doing it,” Alyssa said. “Right now. See? Doing it…”

Lindsey sent her one more dark look as she followed Jenk into the hall. “I’m leaving the door open so I can hear you,” she called back to Alyssa, who was obediently clacking away on her computer keyboard. She turned to Jenk. “You’re welcome—because I know that you’re thinking
thank you.
You know, for doing your girlfriend’s job?”

Of course. Tracy should have been in charge of maintaining the office calendar. “She’s not my girlfriend,” Jenk pointed out, leading the way into Tommy’s conference room.

“You mean
yet,
right?”

“We’re friends.”

Lindsey wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, and you’ve only been crushing on her for how long? Since, what? Ninth grade?”

He had to laugh—she’d pegged it so exactly. He closed the door behind her. “Seventh.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” She sat on the table, putting them more at eye level, which was a shame. He liked the fact that she had to tilt her head to look up at him. That didn’t happen very often. Even women who were shorter than average, like Tracy, tended to wear heels. In fact, the shoes she was wearing today, combined with her hairstyle, made her seem to tower over him.

The beach. He had to invite Tracy out to the beach. Get her barefoot…

“You’re even further gone than I thought.” Lindsey was talking to him, and he forced himself to focus. “May I be honest with you?” she asked.

“More than you’ve already been?” Jenk was bemused.

“In my opinion, Tracy was not born with a receptionist’s gene,” she said. “You may want to take her out to dinner tonight, ply her with wine, and prepare her for the fact that a gold watch upon retirement after thirty years of employment is probably not in her future. Maybe you can convince her to bear your children. You know, it’s actually been proven that space-shots—both male and female, I’m not being sexist here—they become more efficient and organized after having kids. I think it’s part of that whole Darwinian survival of the fittest thing.”

Jenk wasn’t sure what to say, especially since Lindsey kept going.

“It’s a full moon tonight, too. People act impulsively during a full moon. More knife fights, but also more sex. I’m betting that Tracy might not be so good at knife fights.”

Was she honestly suggesting that he…? It was hard to tell when she was serious and when she was kidding.

“I’m, um, babysitting tonight,” Jenk told Lindsey. It was nice to surprise her, for a change. “For Tommy and Kelly. They’ve got some kind of rehearsal dinner thing.”

Tommy’s niece was getting married tomorrow.

“Wow,” Lindsey said. “Okay, I’m totally impressed. An alpha male who isn’t terrified by the idea of spending an evening with a seven-month-old?”

This time she wasn’t kidding. At least he didn’t think so. Her smile was sincere, her eyes warm, her admiration more than evident. She was definitely attracted to him. He hadn’t just imagined that back in Tommy’s office. Wasn’t that…interesting? At any other time, he would’ve taken advantage, because the attraction was definitely mutual.

But the woman of his dreams was finally available. She’d moved to San Diego, she’d broken up with her longtime scumbag boyfriend, she was looking for a change. These days Jenk was setting his sights higher than a mere mutual attraction. So he took a step back, tried to make his smile more friend-ish.

“It’s going to be fun,” he said. “I mean, kids, you know? Kids are great.”

Lindsey’s smile was definitely sincere. And his suspicions were confirmed. Women really did have a soft spot for men who liked children. Running out of cash during last month’s poker game over at Tommy’s house had been a gift in disguise. He just hadn’t realized it at the time.

Jenk had been holding a beautiful, beautiful boat. Aces and kings. But Tommy had refused to fold, betting everything he’d had to try to force Jenk out of the game. He’d written up an IOU for five nights of babysitting, just to call Tommy’s bluff.

Of course, Tommy hadn’t been bluffing. He’d had a straight flush, beating Jenk’s full house. The man had incredible luck.

Not just at poker, but in life and in love.

Tom Paoletti had actually gone and married his high school crush. He was Jenk’s inspiration. If Tommy could win his wife Kelly’s heart, then Jenk could win Tracy’s.

He’d yet to tell her he was babysitting tonight—telling Lindsey had been a practice run. But now he couldn’t wait to see that same softness in Tracy’s eyes.

As for the babysitting, Charlie Paoletti was pretty cute. How hard could it be?

“Have you ever babysat before?” Lindsey asked him. The softness had been replaced by concern. And quite possibly amusement. It was hard to tell, because the amusement was usually always present in Lindsey’s dark brown eyes.

Jenk shook his head no. “A friend is coming along, to help.” It still felt weird, calling Izzy his friend. “He has something like nine brothers and sisters. He’s the youngest—all his older brothers and sisters were having kids when he was, like, ten.”

Tom had been uncertain about leaving Charlie alone with Jenk—until Izzy had volunteered to assist. Apparently the Iz-Meister had sat for Charlie before.

Strange, but true.

“That’s good,” Lindsey said. “That you’ll have help. It’ll also be better for, you know, your shoulder.”

“Did Tommy tell you…?” He realized that he’d unconsciously reached up to rub it.

She shook her head. “You’ve been favoring it. Only slightly, though. I only noticed because I can relate. I was in an accident about five years ago. Really messed mine up.” She rotated her right arm. “I’m now prone to dislocating it, which is barrels of fun.”

“I’m still rehabbing,” Jenk admitted.

She nodded. “Pain in the butt, huh?”

And there they were, just smiling at each other again. Friendly smiles, he reminded himself. Tracy, Tracy, Tracy. “Tommy thinks very highly of you,” Jenk told her.

She waved the compliment away. “I’m serious about Tracy,” she said. “I know she’s your…friend, but this just isn’t the right job for her.”

“Working the front desk is not that hard.”

“That’s right,” she said. “It’s not. And yet…”

Tracy wasn’t getting it done. Damn it. “I’ll talk to her,” Jenk said.

“What this office really needs is a Mrs. Landingham. You know, the President’s old secretary from…? I guess you don’t watch
West Wing.
”

“I don’t watch much TV.”

“Not even
Lost?
” she asked.

Jenk shook his head.

“Or
Boston Legal?
I’m thinking of starting a new religion, with William Shatner as my god.”

“When do I have time to watch TV? All the stories are connected, I turn it on, and it’s like watching the Spanish station. What the eff is a hatch doing in the freaking jungle, anyway? So I flip to ESPN. You can come into the middle of a football game and know exactly what’s up. Some of these shows—you have to plan your life around watching them.”

“Yeah, I don’t have a life,” Lindsey admitted. “I go to work, I come home. My most intimate relationship is with my TiVo. I’d get a cat, but I’m allergic. And by the way, it’s okay if you drop the f-bomb on me. After seven years with the LAPD, I’ve heard it before. At least, oh, six, seven times.”

Jenk laughed. “That many, huh?”

“Back to Tracy,” Lindsey reminded him. “How well do you know her?”

“Not very well,” he admitted. “I mean, it’s been a long time since high school. I’m sure she’s changed. I have, too.”

“It’s just that she’s so easily distracted. She seems so much more suited for retail sales. Working at the mall with all the twinkly, shiny things to sell?”

“We can help her get up to speed,” Jenk said.

“We,” Lindsey repeated.

She was sitting there, enormously skeptical. But not uninterested. That was good. She had a solid sense of humor, which was important when dealing with Tracy, who sometimes spiraled into one of her “I’m not good enough” moods.

Lately that attitude had been front and center. Jenk’s sister, Ginny, had told him Tracy’d been fired from her job of appointment scheduler at a dentist’s office in the same week that she’d walked in on her cheating lawyer boyfriend and his latest affair. Her move out here, to California, was part of an attempt to start fresh.

But playing the pity card wasn’t likely to work with Lindsey. No, Jenk knew just how to get her on board this particular train.

“If you help me with Tracy,” he told Lindsey, “I’ll talk Tommy out of using you as hostage during the op.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. You could do that?”

“Yes, I could.” Considering he was the one who’d orchestrated this entire training op. But he didn’t want to cop to that, not after Admiral Fucker stirred some of his ugly into the pot by making it a showdown between Tommy and Commander Koehl.

“Wow,” she said again.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I talked to Tom while you were at lunch. I’m good with the hostage thing now.”

She was serious. He found himself searching her eyes. They were totally unreadable—except for the amusement dancing there. And as for that small smile playing about the edges of her delicate lips…If he weren’t a SEAL, it might’ve scared him.

Particularly when she continued. “We both know that, no matter what Tom says, this training op is going to be a competition. You against us. So here’s the deal. I’ll help you try to help Tracy over the next few days, until the op. If your SEAL team wins, I’ll give her another full month. But if you lose, then you’ll have to get her to hand in her resignation within that month, so Tom doesn’t have to fire her.”

Jesus. What had Tom told her? Something that had made her convinced the TS Inc team was going to win this thing.

Of course, Tommy didn’t really know Commander Lew Koehl all that well.

Lindsey reached out with her foot, kicking him lightly on the leg. “Unless you don’t think your SEALs can win. I mean, that’s understandable. You probably know Tommy better than I do. He’s formidable. And Sam Starrett, Alyssa Locke, Larry Decker…We’ve got quite the team. I personally wouldn’t agree to this deal. I mean, if I were you.”

She was totally manipulating him, working and molding him like a piece of clay. He oughta know, he’d used similar tactics himself, plenty of times before.

Still, Jenk found himself holding out his hand. “We’ve got a deal,” he said, as they shook.

She had small hands with slender fingers that were cool to the touch.

Her smile, though, had one hell of a spark. “You,” she told him happily, “are totally toast.”