Actual Stop (Agent O’Connor #1)(79)

“I think we’re—” Allison broke off, and I heard some sort of commotion on her end of the phone. “Hang on a second.”

“Sure.” I waited as she covered the receiver so she could talk to someone. I could hear muffled bits of conversation but not enough to make out what they were discussing.

A few moments later she was back. “Ryan? I’m really sorry. I have to go.”

I was disappointed, of course, but I understood. “That’s okay. I’ll talk to you soon. Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

Though we’d left things between us up in the air, my smile lingered long after I hung up. This day wasn’t shaping up to be half bad. Speaking to Allison for even two minutes had completely altered my perspective. Wow. Some things never changed. Even our impending talk didn’t dampen my mood. It was extremely likely I wouldn’t like whatever she had to say, but I refused to let that possibility bring me down. I was floating.

An all-too-familiar voice behind me spoke. “Ryan?”

I tensed. My blood ran cold, and my heart suddenly plummeted from its previous Allison-induced heights to land somewhere in the vicinity of my knees. Clearly, I’d spoken too soon. I turned around very slowly.

“Luce.”

Lucia stood a few feet away from me with the strangest expression. I couldn’t read it, and, frankly, I was too tired to even try. She didn’t look happy, though I had no idea what her current mood was.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised to see her.

Lucia’s eyes narrowed, and she studied me with an unnerving intensity. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable moment, she jerked her thumb in the direction of the front of the motorcade where I knew the NYPD intel car sat idling along the curb several cars ahead of mine. “I was asked to fill in.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell thick and heavy between us, and I rubbed my palms against the legs of my pants. My insides twitched, and I bit my lower lip nervously, unsure what to say. This was unbelievably awkward. I wanted to ask her whether she was filling in just for today or if she had to work this detail for the remainder of the visit, but I was as afraid of her reaction to the question as I was of her answer. I just kept quiet.

I’d been incredibly busy with the numerous interviews, typing my PI report, and all the prep work for the visit. Not to mention being tied up in knots over Allison. I’d become completely wrapped up in everything, and while I’d meant to meet Lucia to switch our phones, I’d somehow never gotten around to it.

Of course, some people would speculate I’d purposely put off the meeting because I’d been dreading, well, this…the moment where Lucia and I stood face-to-face and our inevitable strained interaction. I’d had no illusions we could fix what’d happened or we’d ever be able to get back together, but the thought of us having one last, stilted conversation brought the situation into sharp focus. It solidified the end of our relationship, made it seem more final somehow, and I hadn’t been eager to rush that reality check.

But here we were, tongue-tied and avoiding all but the most fleeting traces of eye contact, as we stood motionless on a New York City street corner. This situation resembled a cheesy Hollywood movie, and the notion made me unbelievably sad.

“You look good, Ryan,” Lucia said, eventually. “Happy.”

“Uh…Thanks. So do you. Look good, I mean.” Her mere presence was like a hot poker being thrust into my chest and twisted around. It threw me off balance. I blinked and then fumbled in the backseat of my car where my bag was stowed. After retrieving her cell phone, I handed it to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t return it sooner.”

Lucia glanced at the phone I held before taking it. I noticed she made it a point not to touch me as she did. She put her phone in the pocket of her suit jacket and continued to watch me. Then her eyes flicked down to where the wire for my surveillance kit peeked out between the collar of my shirt and my neck and back up again. She pressed her lips together in a thin line, and her eyes hardened, but I couldn’t have said exactly why. Perhaps this was as difficult for her as it was for me. The idea only intensified the ache inside me.

The moment stretched out forever. I cleared my throat and held out my hand, dismayed that it was trembling. Pinpricks of pain scraped behind my eyes, and a lump welled up in my chest and lodged firmly in my windpipe, making it tough to breathe. All the best and happiest moments of our relationship played in vivid Technicolor in my mind and made me want to cry.

“Do you have my phone?” I asked finally, my voice barely more than a whisper. I don’t think I could’ve spoken any louder than that. It was taking too much effort not to burst into tears.

“I do.” Lucia reached into the cell-phone holster on her belt and withdrew it. She held it aloft but didn’t hand it to me.

The pressure in my chest increased exponentially. “Can I have it?”

“Not until you tell me something.” Lucia’s words were brittle, her tone icy. The coldness in her eyes chilled me and seeped into the marrow of my bones.

“What?”

“Was it good?”

I was stumped. “Was what good?”

“Fucking Allison. Was it good?” Her features twisted into something cruel, and her voice was hard as she glared at me.

“What?” She’d completely blindsided me. No way could I have seen that coming.