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K. R. Treadway
K. R. Treadway

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Opposites Distract 10: Unfriendly Eyes

 ~ Liv ~

Liv and Edgar strolled past the front security desk. Roy Collins had just resumed his seat, keeping his sullen eyes on them. Edgar raised his arm and gave a friendly wave with his free hand. 

His other hand was holding hers.

Liv still wasn’t sure how she felt about this…improv. Back in the lab, after she’d put on her heels and collected her purse, his palm had abruptly pressed against hers. Before she could draw away he had interlaced their fingers and raised their newly clasped hands. When his lips brushed a kiss on the back of her wrist, all of her anger—and speech—vanished.

“Ready to go?” His voice sounded husky, but his eyes were alert and anxious.

Collins. He was doing this to satisfy Collins. Liv checked. Sure enough, the unpleasant man was still darting glances while making his way out of the lab. Feeling more certain, she had made her face smile. “Ready.”

Now, as they exited the main entrance, Edgar kept up the “happy couple” shtick by chatting lightly. The words weren’t penetrating the static in Liv’s head, but she managed to make interested noises whenever he paused. Who had started their arms swinging gently back-and-forth? The movement was making her notice the warmth of his palm and the surprisingly thick calluses along the base of his fingers. It was a pleasant roughness. She suspected it would feel quite nice gliding across her abdomen.

The image shocked her back to sanity.

Liv tugged her hand free just before the VIP parking lot. “You’re telling Hartnell about this.” Her tone was inflexible steel.

“Right. Of course.” Edgar sounded tense, but at least he’d agreed instantly. She wasn’t used to him being agreeable. Just like she wasn’t used to holding his hand. 

Or kissing him.

“Liv?”

“What.” She stared vaguely in the direction of her car. She wouldn't look at him. Those brown eyes were way too close after…all of that.

“I would do it again,” he said. 

If she’d had a response, Edgar had just stolen her air to voice it.

“I wasn't going to listen to that guy belittle you. It was either say something to shut him up, or punch him.”

She shook her head. The case. Stay on the case. “It was a bad call, Edgar.” Bad enough that it might have cost him the corner office. God, she hated that she still couldn't look at him. “Things just got way tougher.”

“Yeah.” He shifted uneasily, his shoes scraping the sidewalk. “But…still. I would do it again.”

A flush of heat played across her skin. “Just call Hartnell as soon as you’re clear. Let me know what our next play is.”

“I will. Sorry for making things difficult.”

Liv strode towards her car without answering, without stopping, until she was safely inside its factory tinted sanctuary. She reclined into the cool leather seat and blew out a frustrated breath. Her cover was intact, but her composure was hanging by a thread. What was wrong with her?

“It’s his fault,” she told the car.  She had expected her assigned partner to be unimaginative and overly methodical. Instead, Edgar was fouling suspects like an unhinged pro athlete and weaving intimate relationships out of thin air.

Not to mention reacting to a fake kiss like it had been real.

Groaning, Liv closed her eyes. There, in her private darkness, she allowed five decadent seconds to relive the warm press of his mouth against hers and the feel of his tongue diving in to taste her. She brushed her fingers against her lips and sighed.

This was the result of her dry spell. Had to be. She and Ben had broken up months ago, and since then she hadn't had the time—or inclination—to date. It made perfect sense…mostly. Strictly speaking, Ben’s kisses had never turned her instantly molten like that. Dammit.

A smooth electronic chime made her jump. It took a second to remember she’d paired her phone to the car’s hands-free system. Searching for the right button on the steering wheel, she answered it.

“Can you talk?” Sharon’s voice filled the interior. Its breathless quality gave Liv an immediate sinking sensation.

She covered her face with her hands. “You saw, didn't you?”

“From two separate angles. Why do you sound muffled?”

“I'm wearing a shame mask.” Liv dropped her arms. “It was all Edgar’s fault. If he had been one second faster at picking locks—”

“It went on.”

She blinked. “What went on?”

“The kiss. On and on. Forty-seven seconds, Liv. You and Edgar were mashing faces for almost a minute.”

What? “Oh, God. Wait, you counted?”

“The feed has a time stamp. And you sound muffled again.”

“Sharon…”

“Don't worry, it's already erased. But I want details, Livy. Now.

Liv threw her head back against the seat-rest. New plan: Lie and deceive. “It wasn’t special. Like kissing spreadsheet software.”

Livy.” Her friend’s tone was so affronted that Liv wondered just how zoomed-in those cameras were. Had it been that obvious?

She covered her eyes. “Fine. I kissed him and…I guess he kissed me back. Then the security guard was a jerk and he blurted I was his girlfriend.”

“The security guard?”

“No! Edgar.”

“He didn’t. Is that why you two were holding hands?” Sharon sounded suspiciously delighted.

“Glad you’re being entertained,” Liv grouched, “but Edgar just tossed a whole-ass bag of wrenches into this assignment.” She blew out a breath. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

“Oh. Of course. Sorry!” At least her friend had the decency to sound contrite. “But…we can talk more later, right? Over margaritas?”

Liv shook her head. Staying irritated with Sharon was pretty much impossible. It was like being mad at a blanket for being warm. “Fine. But you’re buying.”

“Deal. Good luck, girl!” Sharon ended the call.

Strangely, as mortifying as that had been, Liv did feel better. It had happened, it was out there, and her friend hadn’t raked her over the coals too badly. She bet Edgar’s talk with Hartnell was going much more poorly.

Too bad, but not her problem.

Liv started the car and and accelerated out of the parking lot faster than was strictly necessary.  She took it up to the speed limit on the way into the city, expertly slinging the luxury coupe around turns. The thrilling drive and late afternoon countryside helped calm her nerves. By the time Liv merged onto the beltline encircling Raleigh she was almost relaxed.

Hartnell would help them get the case back on track. Eventually the embarrassment would fade, and one day they would all laugh about it at the agency Christmas party. By then she would have forgotten how kissing Edgar had made her feel. And if not…she could retreat to the safety of her perfect corner office while everyone else played Secret San—

Liv’s instincts shot to alertness, clamping her mental chatter. Something was off.

This is why I can't get distracted.

Without making any quick movements, she carefully checked her mirrors. There. That SUV in her rearview…how long had it been behind her? Liv stared at it, pursing her lips. Since the suburbs, at least. Paranoia was a known job hazard for PIs, so it was probably nothing…but there was an easy way to find out. 

Feeling the excitement that had attracted her to this job—and made her damn good at it—Liv took the next exit. Her first stop was a gas station. She eased two dollars into the already full tank, standing for awhile at the pump and using her peripheral vision. Adrenaline fizzed into her system when she clocked the SUV driving past.

Got you.

Getting back in the car, Liv returned to the beltline, this time driving slower than before. She had to be sure. And…bingo. The mid-sized vehicle, forgettable right down to its gray color, had reappeared several cars back.

“Game on,” she said quietly. Hopefully, Edgar had finished up with Hartnell. Using voice commands, she called her partner’s phone. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Pick up, Edgar.

“Liv? If this is about my call to—”

“I’ve got a tail,” she said without preamble. “And I bet you do too.”

There was a long pause, then a muttered curse. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Looks like someone’s checking up on Phase Energy’s new faces.”

Edgar's next round of profanity was surprisingly inventive. “Liv…I’m almost at my cover apartment. I was talking with Hartnell and didn't see a thing. Still not sure if I have one, but I can't check now. It would look strange to turn around here.”

“Better go ahead and park,” she said, suddenly grateful both of them were staying in locations tied to their fake identities. Last night Liv had suggested that cover apartments would be overkill and Hartnell had disagreed. As usual, their wild-haired boss had made the right call.

“But our new cover story—”

“I’m not a rookie, Ed.” She couldn’t resist the petty name jab. It’s not like the tails were her partner’s fault, but his earlier antics had made everything so much thornier. 

Edgar must have realized it too, because his reply was civil despite the goad. “You’re right. Sorry.”

She rolled her shoulders to loosen them. “I’ll stay out for now. Do a Caffiends run to buy half-an-hour while you bring Hartnell up to speed.”

“On it.” He ended the call.

Liv drove past the exit that led to her own cover apartment. Ten minutes later she took an off-ramp toward a rundown shopping center, grinning to see the line of cars snaking through its parking lot. She joined the back of the line, barely able to see the distant kiosk it was stretching towards. Her tail parked in an adjoining lot to wait.

The kiosk was Caffiends, a hipster drive-thru boutique that sold exorbitant concoctions loosely related to coffee. It was a popular stop for tourists and residents alike.

It was also, by Hartnell Inquiries standards, “one-of-a-kind,” making it ideal for their best anti-surveillance trick. Tails may have been an expected part of the job, but Hartnell insisted his agents never treat them in the expected way. He wanted proactive investigators.

“Don’t rush to lose them,” he had exhorted in the internal seminar all new agents were required to attend—Liv had eagerly scribbled notes. “Remember: the moment you’ve seen them, they’ve already failed. An acceptable result…but not the best result. I want you to lead them astray. Force them to spend time and money. Send them chasing ludicrous leads. Make them assets.

And then he had taught them about “one-of-a-kinds.”

Most would be small businesses or specialty stores that offered something unique, the sort of place a person might travel out of their way to visit. Hartnell required every agent to find at least one in each area they were sent to. For Raleigh, their home base, the agency kept a dedicated list. Updated monthly, it offered at least ten locations spread across the city.

With enough one-of-a-kinds, you could lead a tail wherever you wanted.

After fifteen minutes in Caffiends’s line, Liv was still six cars away from the order window. Excellent. A chime alerted her to an incoming call. She was relieved to see Hartnell’s name on the ID.

“This is Liv.”

“You’re having a busy day, Ms. Doyle.” His voice, warm and crisp, was the epitome of control. Liv found herself soaking up his calmness.

“Looks that way, sir.” She eased the car forward as the line moved up.

“Firstly, good job on spotting the tail. It confirms my suspicions about the opposition’s resources.” There was a delicate pause. “But your…prior interaction with Mr. Sharp has added complexities.”

“Yes, sir,” Liv answered. “That’s why I stayed out.”

“Astute of you, my dear. It's given us time to form a plan. I know this is probably not what you wish to hear, but I think you’d better head to Edgar's cover apartment.” He cleared his throat. “Or more accurately, your new shared cover apartment.”

Liv closed her eyes. “I…see.” She'd known this might be the outcome, but had hoped Hartnell would find some—any—alternative. Apparently not. Someone behind her tapped their horn. Liv’s eyes shot open and she quickly narrowed the gap to the next car.

“Will that be a problem, Ms. Sharp?” Hartnell’s tone was gentle. It wasn't a threat, but a concerned query. She took comfort from it.

“No.” Liv took a steadying breath. “No, sir. We’ll make it work.”

“All right.” He told her the address. “I’ll call you both once I’ve cleared a few logistical hurdles. Oh, and Ms. Sharp?”

“Yes?”

“Make sure to order two coffees. Moving forward, you'll need to keep up appearances.”

Comments

Easy jw

Aden Gaskell

I upload once a week, usually on Sunday at 11am (EST). If there's not going to be a new chapter I try to let folks know via an update. 🙂

K. R. Treadway

Jw but are uploads weekly Or just when they come?

Aden Gaskell


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