Page 10 of The Phoenix (Spy Girl 6)
After finding nothing of significance and realizing my mother probably purposely lived a very clutter-free life, I decide to go into my bedroom. I’m not sure if I’ve been avoiding it or what, but when I open the door, it brings tears to my eyes. It is the one room in the house that really hasn’t been touched. The colored pencils I was drawing with are still splayed out across my desk, the picture I was working on underneath them. I run my finger across the top of the desk, finding no dust. That means Ares gave specific orders to clean the room but not disturb it.
I pick up the princess and prince music box my mother bought me in Montrovia when I was only six. I realize now that the couple atop it is supposed to be Lorenzo’s parents, probably created from a photo of their wedding day. I turn the key to make it play the song I know so well. It’s a song played in Montrovia to wish someone well, whether on their birthday or another special day. I close my eyes, hum along, and remember waltzing in Lorenzo’s arms at the Queen’s Ball. The grandeur and the grace mixed with the fear that someone would succeed in killing the man I knew I was already in love with despite my mission and training.
The music ends, waking me from my reverie and spurring me to keep going. I have to stop what is going to happen in Montrovia. But how can one girl stop both a coup and The Echelon from succeeding?
I’d like to say that I’m not just any girl, but I am.
I’m just one girl.
And I know it’s not my training or abilities that will allow me to succeed. It’s the love that continues to drive me.
I’m in a slight panic over what to wear on our date. I think I’d rather face a room full of assassins than my closest sometimes. My typical designer dress and heels seem like too much, and jeans and sneakers feel like not enough. I call Dr. Kate, who guides me toward a cute off-the-shoulder pinstriped chambray romper with white-heeled booties. I love her picks, except for when she suggests a red handbag to go with it.
“Just because I’m engaged to the president’s son doesn’t mean my wardrobe is going to be all red, white, and blue. How about something orange instead?”
“I like it. An unexpected pop of color is always fun. Have a good time,” she says, ending the call.
I’m just slipping on the booties when Daniel calls and says to meet him out front in five minutes.
“I guess that’s better than honking,” I say.
“Huntley,” he chides and hangs up.
I put the finishing touches on my makeup, grab a pair of aviator sunglasses, and am walking out the front door when he pulls up in a beautiful deep blue Bugatti Chiron. Aside from how fast it is, the car has a distinctive C-bar shape on the side.
Daniels gets out, wearing a Christmas-morning grin. “What do you think?”
“If you were trying to be patriotic, you should have bought an American car,” I tease.
He comes around to the passenger side and opens the door for me. “This is what I meant by patriotic.”
The interior of the car looks like a luxurious cockpit, and the seats are decked out in blue-and-white stripes with a single red one down the middle.
“I’m surprised you didn’t have them embroider gold medals into the leather.”
“I couldn’t do that yet. I have more medals to win.” He smirks. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s one of the most beautiful cars I’ve ever seen. The lines on it are ridiculously gorgeous. Looks fast, too.”
“Oh, it is,” he says. “It’s got a sixteen-cylinder, eight-liter motor with four turbo chargers and fifteen hundred horsepower. Zero to sixty in two-point-five seconds. Get in.”
I glance at the stripes of the interior and then at the ones on my outfit. “Okay,” I say. “But you probably won’t be able to see me.”
“It’s like you’re wearing camouflage.” He laughs and then grabs me around the waist, pulling me close. “You look adorable. Flirty. Perfect for our romantic evening, which is something we need to talk about.”
“We don’t have to talk about it, Daniel. I know what you want.”
His grin turns naughty. “And what is it that I want?”
“Exactly that. Playful flirting, tender moments, hand-holding, big smiles—”
“Kissing,” he says.
“Daniel.” I shake my head.
“Come on, Huntley. We’re engaged. We have to kiss.”
“A cheek or forehead kiss is cuter in pictures than making out.”
“So, if I kiss you, you won’t mind?”
“I’ve never minded kissing you, Daniel.”
“I know. That’s why I’m worried. If I start kissing you now, you’ll fall for me again, and I’ll never be able to get rid of you.”
“Very funny.” I lean in and kiss him on the lips, startling him. “Tell you what; let’s just go have fun. Don’t try to script it, or it will look like a photo op and not love. Lizzie will know the difference between the two.”
“Good point,” he says, helping me in the car.
The car alone attracts a lot of attention. That, and the fact that we are not-so-discreetly being followed by two Secret Service agents.
We walk hand in hand and pop in a few shops and I have fun making him try on clothes I picked out. He ends up getting a few shirts, and then we stop at a trendy wine bar, choosing a spot on the outdoor patio.
Daniel slides his chair over to sit next to me—to be romantic and because he loves to people-watch.
He orders us each a chardonnay, and then he puts his glass against mine. “To planning our wedding and to my beautiful Huntley.”
We each take a sip, and then he puts his fingers under my chin and looks into my eyes. I know it’s supposed to be a serious, lovey moment, but I can’t help it; I break out in laughter.
I’m mid-laugh when he kisses me. It’s a friendly closed-lips kiss, and since I know he’s trying so hard and I can hear a camera clicking photos, I run my hand through the curls at the nape of his neck, break the kiss, laugh again, and then brandish a breadstick in his direction. He picks up his own breadstick, and we have a little duel.
When I hit his with enough force to break it in two, he says, “You win. I’ll wear a tuxedo.”
“You don’t have to wear a tuxedo unless we do an evening wedding,” I say.
“What time do you think? My mom says the Rose Garden would be a beautiful location.”
“Perfect,” I say, not caring one way or another. I have no intention of marrying Daniel … unless …
Truth be told, I really like Daniel. He’s funny and easygoing yet highly driven. And, if I had never met Lorenzo, I could see us being happy together.
I reach out and caress his cheek. “I say, we skip wedding planning and just talk.”
He twirls a piece of my hair around his finger. “We have to know some of the basics. That’s what they will ask about tomorrow in the interview.”
“Really? I would think they’d want to know about our relationship and the details of the engagement. That’s the romantic part. And, if they ask about planning, I’ll just say it’s a secret and that the wedding is going to be intimate—just family and close friends.”
“With a big bash after,” he says. “You need to go dress shopping. I read one has been commissioned for Lizzie, and her wedding isn’t until December. We have less than a month.”
We finish our wine, pay the tab, and are wandering down the street when I spot a pastry shop and drag Daniel inside, ordering us each a treat. Me a unicorn cupcake and him a chocolate chip cookie about the size of his face.
“Daniel, have you heard anything about something bad happening at the Olympics?” I inquire.
“My mom still isn’t sure she wants me to attend and is throwing a fit about it. Of course, she knows I’m going, and she’ll be there to support me, but the director of the CIA has been visiting the White House more than usual. I’m sure he’s briefing my dad on all things, but I know Montrovia keeps coming up. It’s my understanding that, at first, they were investigating
a possible terror attack, but now, they are worried about a coup. Apparently, some admiral has been outspoken in their meetings.”
“That would be Admiral Philipe Lamonte. He was one of King Giovanni’s closest friends.”
“Well, the king’s gone, and regardless of Lorenzo’s engagement to Lizzie, there are factions in his parliament that aren’t convinced he should rule.”
I roll my eyes. “I’d be willing to bet most of the men in power at the parliament have had numerous women in their pasts, too. Lorenzo dated a lot. Big deal. He could because he didn’t expect to have to marry for a few more years. And he’s very much stepped up and even nearly died for his country.”
“Parliament seems to be slightly appeased by the wedding, but if the royal family is overthrown by the people or any other faction, our government is prepared to step in. It’s imperative the strait doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
My mood darkens as I wonder how much of this is true. Lorenzo loves his country and is already a good king. With more time, I’d be willing to bet history would recall him as one of the greatest. I believe there’s a reason he’s named after Lorenzo the Magnificent.
I thought I wanted the fairy tale, but that’s not really true. I just want Lorenzo. If I didn’t know how deeply upset he would be, I’d say to him, Let them have the country and run away with me, but I feel the same way. Like some unknown force keeps pulling me back there. I think about past lives and what Ari said about our connection. I felt that way about Lorenzo on the castle tour when I was twelve—like I had looked into the eyes of my destiny.
Daniel wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my cheek. “Stop thinking about him,” he whispers. “Not now, please.”
I take ahold of the pendant Lorenzo gave me and slide it across the chain, knowing this charade is a waste of time. It’s distracting me from my mission.
“I don’t know if I can do the interview tomorrow,” I tell him, feeling mentally drained by all the men in my life.
“Don’t say that. Don’t even think it. We have to. You would only let me set up one. Do you know how many interviews she has done?”
“Uh, no.”
