as I am.
Or maybe not. Jack is no longer smiling. “Why does Dominic get to cover Eden Key with Donna? It just doesn’t make sense. For one reason, we’re a proven mission team. For another, wouldn’t it be more believable for a publicly-acknowledged couple to take a vacation there?”
“I think the answer to that is pretty obvious,” Dominic interjects. “It’s a singles resort. We’ll be going undercover, as single consenting adults”—he winks at me when he says this—“which is much better for the mission, is it not, Ryan?”
Jack’s mouth drops open—then shuts again.
Because he knows Dominic is right.
He turns to me. “Donna, what do you think?”
“Well…. hmmm . Well, I…” I turn from him, to Dominic, and back to Jack. “I’ll do whatever is best for the mission.”
Ryan nods. “Then it’s settled. Donna, since ID validation falls on you, you’ll also act as mission leader on this assignment. That said, group reconnaissance meetings take place in Donna’s tiki as needed, or every forty-eight hours, beginning at nineteen-hundred hours on Day One. Along with plane tickets under your aliases, you’ll also find an all-inclusive island pass, which allows you to move freely from one resort to another. Abu, Arnie and Emma will take the flight at ten o’clock tonight. Dominic, Donna and Jack will take a later one, which leaves at ten tomorrow morning.” He waves his hand at Janine, who nods dutifully as she makes the necessary travel changes.
“Jack isn’t piloting the plane, right?” Arnie asks with a snort. “If so, the last place I want to be is an exit door seat.”
Again no one laughs—certainly not Jack—although I detect a shadow of a smile on Dominic’s lips.
Ryan sighs tiredly as he looks down at his notes. Class is dismissed.
Emma smacks Arnie on the head as she takes her ticket and heads out the door. If that’s not a broad enough hint for him to cut the lame jokes, then I don’t know what is.
Okay, maybe I do. But it’s going to hurt.
Jack pats me on the shoulder. “Hey, this one should be fun. Sand, sun, sex on the beach”—When all eyes turn to us, he smiles—“drinks, I mean. And at least we won’t have to fake the rum-fueled romance part.”
Ryan looks up. “Jack, you’ve got it wrong. Donna will be faking it—with Dominic.”
Ooops .
Jack stares at Ryan. Then at Dominic.
And finally, at me.
I’m too awestruck too say anything.
But Jack doesn’t know that. His take on things is that I’m not supporting him.
He shrugs as he leaves the room.
“Petulant prat, eh? Not to worry, my sweet. Jealousy is a wonderful aphrodisiac.” Dominic grins as he takes my hand in his. “Speaking of which, what say you join me for a bowl of mussels, at that little boîte on the beach just around the corner—what is it called? Oh yes, the Sand Dollar! We can work on our cover over dinner and a good bottle of wine.” Gently, with one of those thick fingers, he traces the lifeline on my palm. “We’ll play dessert by ear.”
As Dominic leans in ever closer, he blocks my view of Jack, who is walking out the door.
Hopefully, not out of my life.
I should go after Jack, shouldn’t I? But wouldn’t it be rude to jerk my hand away? Besides, Jack said it best: our relationship is built upon mutual trust.
I guess that’s why I stand and say to Dominic, “So sorry, old boy. I’ve already got dinner plans—with Jack.”
Dominic’s eyes narrow even as he smirks. He suddenly realizes things aren’t going the way he’d planned.
That’s okay. I’m not the only one he’ll respect in the morning. If this mission is going to succeed, he’s got to show some courtesy to Jack, as well.
I sashay toward the door after the man I love.
But he’s already gone home. Without me.
By the time I’ve walked home, I’m sweaty, hungry, and tired.
On the other hand, Lassie and Rin Tin Tin are well-fed. Seems that Jack gave them our
Learning to Kill: Stories