“So, what else should we get out of the way on our first date?” she asked. “Favorite sports team? Favorite color? Favorite drink? Oh, how about most embarrassing childhood story?”
“I’m game for whatever you want to tell me.”
“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. “Let’s start easy… my favorite color is blue.”
“The color of your eyes blue or a different shade? Cause I’ve got to tell you that I didn’t have a favorite color until I saw your eyes. And now, aqua is absolutely my favorite.”
She laughed again and gently pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Oh, my, you are really good at this first date stuff!”
Now it was his turn to smile as they finished their champagne. He slid her empty glass from her fingers and handed both back to one of the servers without ever taking his eyes off her. “I’d like to see you again. I definitely think we’re ready for a second date.”
“Well, next Friday night, I’ll be right here at the concert hall. That will be the first chance I have to see you. No pressure, though. If you’re here… then you’re here. So, goodbye, Mr. Claiborne.” Inclining her head, she smiled, turned, and quickly walked through the doors leading to the area behind the stage.
Clay watched her disappear and sucked in a quick breath before blowing it out slowly. It had been a long time since he’d felt such a pull toward a woman. Still smiling, he walked out the front and down the street to his vehicle. He knew she didn’t expect it, but he planned on being in the same place next week. And that would count as date number two.
Clay easily disabled the security at Congressman Bennett’s campaign headquarters, and he, Blake, Tate, and Levi slipped inside. The headquarters’ security was not elaborate, but Clay was methodical, checking each step as they went. With night vision goggles, they deftly maneuvered through the mass of desks, tables, chairs, and boxes.
Tate and Blake installed cameras and audio surveillance, taking a few extra minutes to explain their system to Levi, who was used to the constraints that the Bureau placed on him and appeared glad to be able to focus on the mission at hand instead of legalities imposed by desk jockeys.
Opening one of the boxes, Clay peered inside, seeing reams of printed flyers, each pronouncing the congressman’s achievements in his bid for reelection. Looking at the others, there was nothing suspicious in the office at all.
The headquarters was simplistic in layout. The main area was a large workroom where most of the volunteers would spend their time on the first floor, along with several smaller, utilitarian conference rooms. A few tiny offices, bathrooms, and a break room completed that space. Once the surveillance cameras were in place, they slipped up the stairs to the second floor.
This floorspace was broken up into carpeted rooms and larger offices with furniture that was a cut above the metal tables and chairs found below. While the others placed cameras and microphones around, Clay made his way into Jerry’s office, finding it more elaborate than the rest of the floor. A heavy wooden desk sat on the plush carpeting. He was sure Jerry kept his personal laptop with him, but there was another one on the desk.
Using a drive that Josh had created, he popped it in and within a few minutes set up the parameters so that Josh would be able to see what was on Jerry’s computer at all times, including the history.
A quick glance at files in a drawer gave him nothing, and he checked inside a few more cardboard boxes in the corner, each revealing more of the congressman’s flyers. Installing the surveillance equipment in this office as well, he left it as he found it and made his way back to the others. “Ready for a check.”
“Affirmative,” Josh replied.
Clay waited for a few more minutes until Josh gave them the all-clear to leave. Making sure the building held no clues that they had ever been there, they slipped out the back. Once they left the area, he radioed Josh to have him reinstate the outside security on the building.
“Hey, Nora is getting Babs to teach her and a few of the other wives how to scuba dive,” Tate said as they pulled up to their vehicles they’d left at the LSI compound. “Levi, you should ask Claire if she wants to join.”
Shaking his head, Clay chuckled. “How the hell do you do that? I thought it was just us that were adrenaline junkies, but now it seems like your women are, too.”
“What plans do you have this weekend?” Blake asked.
“Me? I’m driving down to Portland where I have tickets to the Philharmonic Orchestra.”
Tate blinked slowly. “Seriously? You’re going to put on a suit, drive two hours, and listen to highbrow music? Music that you can’t even tap your foot to or dance to?”
“Gotta tell you, Tate, there’s more to music than honky-tonk.” Clapping him on the back, Clay jogged to his SUV with the sound of laughter coming from the others. That was okay by him. He couldn’t wait for Friday night and the chance to hear Christina play once again. Especially since this would be their second date.
4
The decorated lobby with its red carpet and gilded portraits hanging on the walls offered a festive vibe as white-coated servers carried silver trays of champagne goblets. Snagging two flutes of the amber bubbly, Clay waited anxiously by the door where the musicians would appear after the concert was over.
As soon as Christina walked out, he stepped forward. Her eyes widened as her feet stuttered to a halt, and a smile curved her lips. He grinned as he held out the glass. “You look surprised.”
“I didn’t really think you’d come tonight,” she admitted, accepting the champagne from him. “Three Friday nights in a row… I don’t know whether to be flattered at the dedication to our symphony or concerned about being stalked.”
“I assure you, Ms. Monroe, I’m not stalking. Admiration for your music? Absolutely. Want to get to know you better? Definitely. But I would never want to make you uncomfortable, so if you’d like me to leave you alone, I’ll respect your wishes. Regretfully but respectfully.”
Behind her eyeglasses, her blue-green eyes appeared larger as she held his gaze with an intense one of her own. “I appreciate your honesty,” she said, lifting her champagne flute.
He clicked his with hers, then asked, “And may I ask what we’re drinking to?”
As though unable to hold back her mirth, she smiled widely. “To our second date, of course.”
Relief coursed through him, and he laughed. Finishing his champagne, he replaced their empty flutes onto the passing server’s tray. She was jostled from behind by a large man walking past, and Clay stepped closer, his hand sliding around her, his fingers lightly touching her back. He could not help but notice her dress, the sweetheart neckline hinting at cleavage and a long skirt that was not as full as the one she’d worn the week before. With her standing this close, it was easy to see he was right in his first assessment. Her head would fit underneath his chin.
“You’re staring,” she stated, peering up at him. “I can also tell that you’re pondering something, but what, I have no idea.”
“I was simply admiring your dress and couldn’t help but wonder how many black dresses you own.”