TWO

MARIE

I stared at the little scrap of paper in my hand as I headed over to the multi-million dollar mansion I lived in with the other girls.

“Surprise!” A chorus echoed as I stepped in the door, and only then did I notice that the light had been changed to something twinkly, soft jazz music played in the background, and someone had hung “happy birthday Marie” across the sitting room, and the four other spies I shared the mansion with all wore matching T shirts, and sat sipping from a cup.

I sighed. I hated my birthdays, I’d even forgotten it was today, but my smile was genuine as I walked over to the group.

“At least let me have a drink,” I said snatching a cup from the person nearest to me.

Nathalie shrugged. “You could have waited, let me pour yours.” Nathalie was the silent weapon among us, she usually got her information from targets in the most cruel way, and yet when she was not working for Garrick, she was just the regular nerd.

“We should …. Sing the happy birthday song, shouldn’t we?” Glenda chimed in, I could tell she’d had more to drink than just what was in the cup.

“No! No happy birthday song,” I interjected immediately before they could start. “Maybe, a little special treatment for today, just cause it’s my birthday?” I added, for the benefit of the redheads, Rachel and Tessa staring at me with crestfallen looks. They hated a party pooper – even if it was my own birthday party I was pooping.

“Well, if you’re so against this birthday party, who are we to force it on you,” it was Nathalie that spoke next, walking over to turn off the music.

“What’s that in you hand?” Nat continued, ignoring the daggers Rachel and Tessa shot her.

I stared down at the scrap of paper again. Why did something feel off? Like this was one mission I would regret taking?

Before I could speak, Glenda wrenched the paper off my hand, running over to stand by Nathalie as she read it out.

“Peter Portman,” she read out. “That’s your new target isn’t he?” She looked up at me with disappointment. “What kind of name is Peter Portman? And here I was thinking Garrick had finally gotten the enigmatic Xavier Storm as our client.

“Who the heck is Xavier Storm?”

The entire room stared at me like I had just sprouted a second head.

“How do you work for Garrick and you don’t know Xavier Storm?” It was Rachel that spoke next, finally abandoning her anger over the party just to talk about this Xavier.

“Xavier is like the richest business mogul in the whole California,” she continued. “I swear, that man is richer than sin! And what’s worse, everyone says he never does anything illegal but Garrick has sworn to get him as a client, says if he does, he’d keep details of our dealings with him as blackmail material.”

I frowned. Garrick had never betrayed a client in the past. “So how do you know this ‘Peter Portman’ doesn’t have an issue with your Xavier Storm after all? What if Xavier is our client, and Peter is the target?” I asked, only to have a chorus of laughter follow question.

“For a Garrick spy you can sure be clueless sometimes,” Glenda replied, laughter still dancing from her eyes. “Lets put it this way, if ever Xavier Storm has an issue with anyone, the whole world would know. It would be in the papers, on telly, on the radio, everywhere! This – Peter Portman of a guy is too little to be in dispute with Xavier Storm.”

I rolled my eyes at the heavy fan-girling, and headed for my room just as they started talking about how Xavier wasn’t on social media, never granted interviews, and how despite his fame, there was only one known photo of him circulating the Internet.

I shut my door against the sounds of their “ooohs” and “aaahs” as they probably dug up the picture. Xavier Storm was not my problem, I had bigger fish to fry.

My phone rang again, it was Garrick.

“Marie, Peter has been sported at the Ritz du place. Can you go over there right away and work your magic?”

I dragged in a breath, a puzzled expression on my face. “Garrick I’m just from the Ritz. Is it not a bad idea to be spotted in the same place twice in a day, talking with two ruined business men?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the more bugging question – why was Garrick sounding nervous?

A sigh reached me from the other end. “It’s different this time Marie, there’s just something off about this case, I want it over and done with right away.”

I shrugged. “Your wish is my command.”

I waited for the clicking sound that showed he’d hung up, then I changed from my low slung, Christian Dior dress into a more modest floral dress.

Who the heck was this Peter Portman that he got Garrick so worked up? I was about to find out.

The band at the Ritz had finished playing and were gone by the time I got back, I knew this because Peter was seated exactly where James had sat earlier on, in the same lounge at the Ritz.

His head was bent slightly, as he stared at something on his phone when I stepped in, and yet, I knew it was him.

Garrick had sent me a text describing exactly what he was wearing, and where he was seated. He’d told me all I’d needed to find him, but it was what Garrick hadn’t said that now took my breath away.

That his presence commanded the room without a single word. That his sharp, assessing gaze carried the weight of a man accustomed to being listened to. Seated with an easy confidence, he made the deep navy of his shirt look intentional, like a uniform meant to complement the crisp cut of his jaw and the effortless arrangement of his dark hair. Even from a distance, there was a quiet authority about him—one that didn’t ask for attention but received it nonetheless.

I swallowed. This time around, I had to put more effort into my fake smile as I sashayed up to sit beside him.

“Forgive me Monsieur, but I must use you as my hero today,” I said switching on my French accent. Men liked foreign women, being foreign gave off a sort of exotic aura.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, those cold eyes assessed me till I found myself squirming in my seat.

“If – if I would be too much of a border, then I must not impose on you,” I said with a soft voice, staring at my hands for a while. “It’s just – there’s this man that has been following me and I’m afraid he’ll hurt me if he finds me alone…”

 I let my voice trail off, before raising my head to stare at him briefly with large pitiful eyes.

“Of course if you’re waiting for your date, I don’t want to impose….”

Again, I let my voice trail off as I got up. All these while, he had said nothing, instead cold grey eyes watched me appraisingly. I was beginning to understand why Garrick had been nervous.

It was now or never, if he did not call me back, I would have to either think of another scenario, or ask Garrick to give the case to someone else.

“Of course, I’ll love to help,” he said finally in a deep voice that had a gentle inflection. “And no, I do not have a date, I was waiting for you.”