Chapter 10

The formal Rose Garden at the Kensington Hotel was magnificent. Cut into the side

of a terraced hill, it offered a panoramic view of the San Francisco Bay. It was easy to see

why it was so popular for weddings.

Of course, that didn't explain the crowd that surrounded it now. Beth was sure that

maybe a couple of the people milling around the edges of the garden were legitimate

tourists and wedding gawkers, but they were badly outnumbered by undercover agents.

Over the last half hour, she'd made a game out of guessing which was which. Some

were easy, like the single men who had been there since the beginning. She didn't know

many men that would placidly sit in a flower garden for the better part of an hour when

their girlfriends were making them, let alone by themselves. Right now there were two of

them.

There were a few couples, but it was easy to tell which were fakes. No snuggling. No

kissing. Nothing in their physical demeanor that indicated a genuine connection.

A few people had come and gone, taking a quick gawk at the view, or the wedding

party, maybe inspecting a bloom or two. Those had been the only ones that had provided

any kind of challenge.

Maybe she should have been more vigilant, keeping an eye out for the people who

wanted her dead instead of playing games with the good guys, but she couldn't quite

manage to keep her guard up after the long day.

Besides, Alex seemed vigilant enough for both of them. He'd insisted on staying

close during the rehearsal, so he was seated in the front row of folding chairs. If anyone

cared, they were tactful enough to keep their mouths shut.

The priest was going through the motions, telling the wedding party where to stand,

what to say, where to go. Beth's job was easy. All she had to do was stand at the front of

the line of bridesmaids, pretend to hold a bouquet of flowers, and ignore Spencer glaring

at her.

After another ten minutes, it was over. Just in time. Beth's stomach was starting to

grumble. The party broke up, agreeing to meet back at the restaurant in fifteen minutes

for the rehearsal dinner.

Beth kissed Isobel on the cheek and went to Alex's side, earning the stink eye from

her mother.

"Beth," her mother snapped.

"I'll just be a second," she said, rolling her eyes. She shouldn't have bothered. Alex

followed her over. Her mother gave them both a disgusted look.

"I don't know why you insist on continuing with this disgusting charade, Beth. You

have to know that all you're doing is embarrassing yourself," she said, apparently not

caring that Alex was right there.

"And I don't know why you insist on believing the worst about me, Mother," Beth

shot back. It was easier to be brave with Alex next to her. She wasn't sure what she was

going to do after he was gone. She didn't want to think about it. Not yet.

"Because it's usually true," her mother said.

Beth thought that after a lifetime of verbal slaps to the face from her mother that she

would be used to the sting. She wasn't.

"I'll see you at dinner, Mom," Beth said, turning away.

Alex kept pace with her as she marched away. He didn't say a word. After a few

steps, he reached down and took her hand. Just like a real boyfriend.

If only.

Sure, Alex had been by her side more in the last two days than anyone else in her

life. He probably cared about her more than anyone else too. But, deep down inside, she

knew it was because it was his job. His guilt over involving her in an international

incident had kept him around.

But relationships had been built on stranger things. Hadn't they?

Okay, maybe not. Especially not when she threw in the blackmail, the

impersonation, and the death threats. Hell, the CIA was probably going to award him a

medal just for surviving the weekend with her.

"Are you all right?" he asked as they rounded the corner of the hotel.

"Everything is fine," she said. Her lips were pressed together so tight that she had to

force the words out.

Beth kept her mouth shut as she walked into the hotel and toward the stairs. Four

flights of stairs should help get some of her pent-up aggression out.

"My mother has never been happy with me. Not once in my whole life." She pulled

away from Alex and rounded the first turn in the stairwell. "Everything I ever did was

seen through the lens of what my sister, Chelsea, did before me. She got A's, I got B's.

She got into Stanford. I got into State. She became a lawyer. I got a job in retail. She got

married and had two children just as perfect as her. I...well...you know how I ended up.

As far as my mother is concerned, the day I was born I was already in second place.

Every day since, I've just become more of a disappointment."

By the time she was done ranting she had reached the top of the stairs. She was out

of breath and felt a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. At least some of her anger had

dissipated.

She turned around. Alex was just behind her, looking as calm and put together as

ever. Only the small smile that played at the corner of his lips gave her any clue about

what he was thinking.

"You still think I'm crazy," she said, and started for the door of their room.

"No, I don't."

"The first time we met you said your mother drove you crazy too," she said, flinging

open the door. "What does she do?"

He was quiet behind her. Beth turned around. Alex's eyes were flat.

"She drank."

Beth stopped in the middle of pulling off her sweater.

Drank. Past tense. And Beth had the feeling it wasn't because she'd checked into

rehab.

"Oh," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he said, like it was the final word on the subject. "It was a long time

ago."

"Like that matters." She resisted the urge to rush to his side. She had the feeling that

if she got too close he would freeze up. She turned and went toward the wardrobe instead.

"She was your mom. Mine drives me bat-shit crazy, but if anything were to happen to her

it would devastate me."

"She feels the same way about you," he said.

Beth felt a little bubble of warmth burst in her chest. Yeah, she guessed deep down

she knew that. But Beth wasn't about to let him change the subject.

"What happened to your mom?"

"I was seventeen. She and I got into a fight one night after she'd been drinking. She

grabbed the keys and before any of us could stop her she'd driven off and wrapped the car

around a tree."

Beth froze as she was pulling down her dress. She couldn't help it. He hadn't used

many words. He didn't need to. She could see the scene crystal clear in her mind. He'd

been a kid. His world had been turned upside down.

"You joined the Navy right after that," she said. It wasn't a question.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Doesn't sound like your home had a lot of structure or discipline. You're obviously

a guy who values those things. So you found a place that had them. I may have only

known you for a couple of days, but you're a pretty easy read."

"I know a couple of people who would disagree with you."

"Then they're idiots," she said.

He laughed darkly.

He was waiting for her by the door when she was dressed and ready, his face

impassive. She put her hand up to his cheek.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," she said.

He gazed at her for a long time before nodding and opening the door. They took the

elevator this time. He was silent all the way back down. Almost all of her anger had

faded away.

Halfway down, Alex's text alert went off. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and

looked at the screen for half a second before slipping it back into his pocket.

"We need to make a quick stop before dinner."

Beth nodded.

Alex walked through a set of unmarked doors near the restaurant entrance. Bright

fluorescent lights gleamed off polished tiled floors. The corridor was clean but industrial,

a glaring contrast to the elegance of the hotel.

She didn't ask where they were going. Off to hear more news, no doubt. It was

strange how quickly she was getting used to this new life of hers. She was still afraid, but

somehow she'd managed to push it into the background. She could function if she didn't

think that all of this fuss was over her.

Beth looked up. She hadn't noticed that she'd fallen a few steps behind Alex.

Apparently, he hadn't either.

She scurried forward, trying to make up the distance. But before she could reach him

a door swung open and a metal cart slid between them.

Beth stopped short, but not quick enough. Her knee bumped into the side and all the

covered dishes on top swayed and clattered.

The waiter pushing the cart looked at her and smiled. It was a friendly enough

gesture so she smiled back. He didn't seem upset that she'd nearly knocked over a whole

table's worth of food.

"Hey, you don't happen to be Beth Bradley, do you?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"Good, cause—"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off. Alex appeared and wrapped his arm

around the man's neck, forcing the waiter to bend back at an extreme angle. The man's

arms shot up.

"Dude," he shouted. "What the hell?"

Beth's hands flew to her open mouth as the waiter teetered on his heels. Alex held

him upright, but the poor guy had to bend his knees to keep himself steady. If Alex

loosened his grip the guy would crumble to the floor.

"How do you know her name?" Alex demanded. His voice was like sharpened steel,

cold and deadly.

"Th-there's a group in the restaurant waiting for her. I heard them asking where she

was." Alex's arm tightened around the waiter's neck. His words just barely squeaked out.

Beth shot Alex a look. He didn't let go.

"That's the only way you know her?" Alex whispered into the waiter's ear.

"Yeah. I don't know her, I swear. Dude, let me go," the waiter said again. His face

was turning red.

"Alex, let him go," Beth said. She didn't want the poor guy passing out—or worse—

just because he'd made the mistake of talking to her.

Alex looked at her for a long moment before reluctantly letting the man slip from his

grasp. The waiter clutched his throat. Beth expected some yelling, maybe even a little

crying. But instead the guy started grinning like an idiot.

"That was awesome," he said, staring at Alex in admiration. "You came out of

nowhere. What are you, some kind of ninja?"

Alex pushed the metal cart out of Beth's way and took her hand. "I'm nobody."

"Dude, you are amazing," the waiter called after them as they walked down the hall.

"Totally sick."

Alex pushed open another set of doors at the end of the hall, and pulled her out onto

a small concrete landing. A set of concrete steps led down to an empty loading dock.

John Ryman was leaning against a wall at the far end. He uncrossed his arms and walked

toward them. When he got close enough he nodded at Beth, then focused his attention on

Alex.

"What do you have?" Alex asked. He sounded impatient.

"We have confirmation that another hit has been put out on Miss Bradley."

A knot instantly formed in Beth's throat. She tried to swallow it down, but it refused

to budge.

"Munoz?" Alex asked.

John shook his head. "It was your guy this time. We intercepted another

communication saying that his man was already en route to the hotel, and that Munoz

was to stay out of it this time."

Alex's eyes hardened as he nodded. "Do we know who he contracted?"

"No."

"So we're flying blind."

"Nothing unusual there," John said. "Keep your eyes open and your head screwed on

straight. You should be fine."

John cast Beth a sideways glance. He obviously didn't think much of her head

screwing on skills. She couldn't blame him. It wasn't what she was known for.

"How are you holding up?" John asked. He sounded concerned, though Beth had the

feeling he was more worried about her messing up his mission than with her welfare.

"I'm okay."

The truth was, she was scared as hell. But at least she wasn't panicking.

"Do you have anything else?" Alex asked.

"Not now," John said. "I'll be in touch if anything comes up." He turned and

disappeared into the fading evening light.

Alex led her back inside. "You all right?"

She nodded. It was a lie, but what was she going to do? She had to be all right. There

was no other option.

"Ready for dinner?" he asked.

Beth laughed a little. Her stomach was currently doing back flips. Her hands were

shaking, and she was pretty sure that the burn she felt was stomach acid creeping up into

her throat.

"You bet," she said, though she had no idea which wine paired nicely with bile.