Operation London (4 page)

She straddled her red motorcycle and put on her helmet, preparing to go back to her hotel and do something brave
. She was going to indulge herself, give in and do what she had been neglecting to do for a long time. Ava London was going to chill out and think.

Back at the hotel Ava's caramel knees and her relaxed face, crowned with glistening strands of hair, were all that anyone could see poking out of the steaming, scented bliss of her first bath in months
. Her lithe arm reached from the heaven of warm water to grab the stem of her wineglass, brimming with a cool white. It was French, expensive and delicious. Just the thing to help celebrate her step back into the role of a civilian. A long draught of crisp liquid filled her mouth and swept down her throat, adding to the general atmosphere of relaxation and happiness.

Well, relative happiness
. Stepping out of the tub and into a white Egyptian cotton bathrobe, Ava looked at her computer screen opened to her personal email account. There were confirmation numbers for her plane tickets to Houston, Texas and her new Audi, purchased outright with a bonus check from Division Lynx. She had always wanted to see Texas and she figured it was as good a place as any to start her new life.

Tess's attitude about what she needed grated on her nerves.

"Like she's some kind of damn oracle," she grumbled to herself. "Telling me to live. They weren't interested in my living when I was hanging off the side of buildings and cracking codes for them." 

Clicking through the web pages she also bought a few more items of clothing to extend her drab wardrobe, all to be sent to a small house she had rented over the phone by sweet-talking a reluctant realtor
. Life was about to happen for her and she should have been happy, but she couldn't make the despair go away.

Ava grabbed her cell phone from the side of her bed and pressed the automatic dial to reach Harry
. She could at least let him know what was going on and tell him where he could reach her. Tinny, flat tones rang against her ear.

"We're sorry. Your call cannot be placed as dialed
. Please hang up and try again," the mechanically cheerful voice of the operator sing-songed.

Ava panicked, her heart thumping as she dialed the number carefully on the keypad
. She was greeted with a message that was identical to the first one she had received. Ava was hit with the reality of her situation like a ton of bricks.

It was over.

Division Lynx no longer existed for her. Everyone she knew, everyone she had seen on a regular basis for five years might as well have evaporated. Tess McQueen had told her that she could come back later, once she straightened things out, but that could be a lie. The problem was that Ava would never be able to reach out to them. Maybe one day they would come and find her, but she wouldn't be able to slide back.

The gravity, the finality of the whole thing was more than she could bear. Ava London never failed
. Ava London did it first, best, always. Now she had been left in the dust without a second glance. The tears she had carefully choked back in Tess's office crowded her throat, overtook her body.

Ava crumpled on the carpet of her hotel room and wept
. Her sobs shook her body and turned her soul inside out. She rocked back and forth, hating life and Division Lynx, hating Tess and Harry, hating the emptiness she was surrounded by. She was a shell, a half-life, a shadow.

Letting out every emotion felt really wonderful
. Ava couldn't remember the last time she had felt so completely relaxed. Her sobbing fest subsided, allowing her to lapse into gentle tears and a long, sound sleep.

Hours later the sun poured into the room, onto Ava's face with unrelenting persistence
. Disoriented, she sat up and surveyed the room, alert for the day's activities. It took her a long moment to remember that this day held a whole new set of rules and cues. Today marked the day she left behind everything that had made her feel alive for five years and journey somewhere completely new. Her eyes were drawn to the red numbers on her alarm clock.

"Eight o'clock!" she screamed
. Her plane to Texas took off at nine fifteen. Her room was in shambles, her personal belongings cluttering every inch of space. Leaping to her feet she began to race around the room, tossing things into her carryon, rushing to start the shower and put toothpaste on her toothbrush. Minutes raced by and she was done packing and getting ready with just enough time to jet to the airport and check in.

Once she settled back on the plane and took a moment to breath she felt a chuckle begin low in her throat and work its way up
. Sobbing herself to sleep had been a turn of luck. She had been forced to race and leave without a second thought, without being able to listen to the niggling voice in her head that demanded she seek out those who had let her go and beg for her place among them once again. She was a free women severed by her own crappy time management and she was just beginning to relish the independence a free life allotted her.

Headphones on, new playlist on her iPod blaring Ava London relaxed in preparation for the grueling plane ride that would land her halfway across the world and on her way to a new life.

Houston, Texas

In the tiny plane bathroom Ava surveyed her reflection and groaned
. Enormous dark bags filled in the space beneath her eyes, her lips were cracked and dry and it looked like a pimple was coming in to accent her greasy hair. Sighing she took out an arsenal of lip balm, sunglasses, cover-up and a hair tie, preparing to repair what appeared to be fundamentally ruined. Inside the tin can of a bathroom she felt like her elbows touched every wall and she had to hunch over to make room to set her hair in a high ponytail. An agent found a way to work with anything, she reminded herself, feeling an instant pang of regret as the thought came out.

Elegant nose pressed to the windowpane back at her seat, she watched with joy as the
clouds parted to reveal the fertile plotting of land below. The captain announced that they would be landing in ten minutes and Ava fastened her seatbelt with unusual excitement. She had expected the sadness about her lost position to linger like a broken heart, but it was healing surprisingly fast and leaving her free to wonder what would happen next.

Pushing and shoving through the airport crowd, Ava went to the information desk to find where her car was parked
. She had had it delivered to the garage and left with a note from the dealer. It was an unusual request, but she was bored with limos and taxis. She wanted to drive again, be behind the wheel again.

The black Audi was immaculate, glistening and ready
. She was making her way towards the beauty when someone came from her left and blind-sighted her. He crashed to the ground and took her down along with it.

"Why don't you watch where the hell you're going!" she shouted, pushing at the man sprawled on the pavement next to her.

"I could say the same to you,
dulce
, but I don't like to talk trash to ladies," he returned, spitting the last word out.

Their eyes locked and time seemed to crawl for them
. Given the reduction in the speed of her thoughts, Ava was able to register quite a few things about the man she had had the excellent luck to knock on his ass.

Muscles defined his body, making his tailored, button down shirt strain against his biceps and filling his suit pants with a rippling grace that few men could claim
. Pitch black hair and sensual black eyes that pulled her in with the intensity of their darkness were set around a chiseled face. His skin was a deep tan that she sensed would be hot beneath her fingertips and his large hand covering her wrist in heated abandon betrayed her suspicions.

"Look, I'm sorry I was so upset," the mysterious stranger said, pulling Ava up as he bounded to his feet
. "My taxi left me stranded, I'm late already and it was my fault we collided.
Pardon, si
?
No hard feelings?"  He smiled and Ava was done in. Everything about this man was red hot, but his smile was a thing of real beauty. Firm lips and strong white teeth, the hint of a dimple alongside his mouth; it was all too much for her to resist.

"
De nada.
No hard feelings," she said, shaking herself out of her teenage gawking. "It was just as much my fault. I have a bad temper to begin with and the jet lag isn't helping. Anyway, where are you going?"

"On my way to a meeting in Houston, in the center of the city," he said, not letting go of her hand.

"I'm headed there. Let me give you a lift."  She held her breath, hoping he would accept her offer.

"No, no,
gracias,
but I should call a cab. You need to sleep off your jet lag," he laughed.

"Please,
por favor,
I won't feel good about this whole thing unless I do this," she pleaded, throwing him a winning smile most men found impossible to resist. He paused, seemed to consider, and Ava did her best to telepathically communicate to him that going would be a good idea.

"OK, if it will make a lady happy how can I say no?  Miguel Gustan, by the way, pleased to make your acquaintance," he said, extending his warm hand again.

When Ava took the long brown fingers between her own something happened deep inside of her. Her instincts never failed to alert her to new dangers and strange situations, and this time she knew without a doubt that something exciting was developing. This was new and strange all right, like a fever she couldn't keep down. This left her feeling like she had scaled a building or broken into one of the most difficult files, but also like she had just eaten the most delicious mousse or hugged an old friend. Exhilarating and comforting, home and adventure.

Ava grabbed Miguel's hand
. "Ava London. Pleased to meet you," she said, painfully aware that her voice was a little breathless.

"That name makes me think of James Bond," he grinned, holding her hand a little too long
. "Ava London. Beautiful. A little mysterious, too."

She could only smile and nod, lead him to the car and start her engine
. They pulled out of the maze that was the airport parking lot and began to navigate the road back.

"You're going to have to help me
. I've never driven here before," Ava said, giving her adorable new passenger a sidelong glance.

"No problem. It's pretty basic actually
. We stay on this road for another thirty minutes before there is even a turn."  There was a small silence while Miguel arranged his bags and settled into his seat. "So you're new to Houston?"

"New to Texas," she grinned.

"Wow. Where do you hail from originally?" he asked.

"Well, I was born in New York City while my Mom and Dad were touring, so I'm American born
. But I've lived just about everywhere there is to live, including Tokyo, which was my home until yesterday."

"Tokyo?  Are you a businesswoman?"

Ava swallowed and gripped the steering wheel. Miguel noticed her body language immediately and turned toward her.

"I'm sorry
. I don't mean to pry. Please ignore my rudeness," he said in a rush to amend his faux pas.

"Geez, calm down
. I‘m not offended at all,” she laughed, trying to bring some of the lightness back to their conversation. “I'm....switching careers. I guess I'm just a little wary about being between jobs, you know. I was a ....computer consultant," Ava improvised, deciding that was the easiest way to explain the bulk of what she did. "And what it your job, if I might ask?" she teased.

"I am a partner in the restaurant
Arbor
downtown. I am hoping to own a restaurant myself, which is why I'm going to this meeting. There's always trouble getting loans when you're new in the business," Miguel explained.

"Sounds exciting
. What kind of restaurant do you want?" Ava asked, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She would have bet money that Miguel's gaze followed her hand, but it could just as easily have been her wild imagination coupled with her lust for the man. How amazing to feel lust again!  Her blood was on fire and she liked it!

"Well,
Arbor
is very classy, very subtle and gentle," he began earnestly, knitting his thick black eyebrows together as he made a visual in his head and accented with his shapely hands. "What I would like to do would be establish a noted restaurant that is younger, wilder, more explicit. Spicy foods, great music, lots of dancing, dramatic decoration. Nothing nice, nothing gentle, you know?  I'm tired of watching people sit back and eat. I want to make them have an experience."  He finished the statement with complete determination.

"Sounds like you know what you want," Ava said enviously
. This man had a passion she could do well to adopt. She accelerated to pass a few slower cars, focusing on the idea of Miguel's restaurant. "You have to let me know if all goes well. I would love to be one of your first customers," she smiled, glancing at him with a sidelong wink.

"That would be wonderful
. Maybe we could dance together. You look like you have a little Latin in you, right?" he laughed.