The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(28)

Normally that's when Sophie would either laugh hysterically at what she calls my "goya Jewish accent" or break into a well-practiced grandmother imitation of her own.

But not today. Instead she blurted out anxiously, "I need to talk to you."

And there it was. The urgency. The paranoia. The neurotic Sophie I knew and loved had finally returned after a brief, brunch-long vacation on the island of worry-free, post-engagement bliss.

"What is it?"

She tugged me a few steps farther away from the curb. Her eyes darted back and forth as if checking our earshot radius for spies and hidden bugs. "It's a bit, well... unconventional," she began warily. "And when I tell you, I don't want you freaking out. I've been thinking about it for a while now and ever since the engagement last night. I've made a decision, and I'm going to go through with it."

I wrinkled my forehead and looked at her quizzically. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you joining the CIA?"

Sophie looked around suspiciously again. "No. It's just that you know how paranoid I am... about Eric and everything."

I sighed. "Yes. But he proposed to you last night. You said he was going to move out here after he finished his residency. I think his intentions should be pretty clear by now."

The words were coming out of my mouth, perfectly rehearsed with flawless enunciation and indisputable sincerity, and yet...for the first time, I found myself having a very hard time believing them.

"Which only makes it even more critical," she urged.

"Soph, you're talking in code. I don't understand what you're getting at."

She lowered her eyes, almost in shame, and then slowly reached into her bag and pulled out a small, folded-up piece of white paper.

"There's this girl at work," she began reluctantly. "I was talking to her one day at lunch... about Eric."

I nodded.

"And she told me a story..." She paused and began to unfold the paper in her hand. "About a close friend of hers who hired someone. Like a...a specialist."

I felt the blood in my veins turn to ice. Every inch of my skin was instantly covered in tiny goose bumps. I was suddenly very thankful for my big and bulky clothing selection. It was the only thing hiding the sudden horror that washed over me.

"What... kind of specialist?" I asked faintly. Even though I had a sneaking suspicion I knew exactly what kind she was referring to.

It was a kind I knew well. Very well.

All too well.

Sophie took a deep breath and looked up at me with remorseful eyes. As if she was apologizing in advance for my inevitable disappointment in her. Like she had finally cracked under the pressures of her insecurities... and she knew it. "Well, she called her a 'fidelity inspector.'"

I closed my eyes and nodded painfully. The familiar title suddenly feeling...well, not so familiar. Foreign even.

And cold. Very, very cold.

When I opened my eyes again Sophie had finished unfolding the piece of paper in her hand. I hardly noticed the valet standing in front of my Range Rover, waving his hand in the air, trying to get my attention, because I was completely spellbound by the letters and numbers that seemed to jump right off the paper in front of me, attacking the very core of my nervous system.

It was almost funny. I'd never actually seen it with my own eyes before. Even though I knew pieces of paper like this existed all over the city. All over the country, even. But ironically, I was seeing one for the very first time.

Ashlyn

310-555-2120





7

Intervention


"JEN!" SOPHIE'S voice awoke me from what I could only pray was a dream.

I blinked and looked down at the piece of paper in my hand for the third time. It was no dream. There was my name...my secret identity, written clear as day. And right below it was the number to my business line. It had come back to haunt me. My by-referral -only business had not come close to home, it had come to my home. To my best friend. My life. It was all too surreal for me to even attempt to make sense of it.

There was only one thing I knew for sure had to be done.

"Are you crazy? You're not actually thinking of calling this person, are you?" I demanded, my voice strained and distressed.

"You don't even know what she does. My friend said her services are invaluable."

I snorted. "I can only imagine what she does." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt guilty for betraying myself.

Sophie took the paper from my hands and studied it.

"It's some sort of undercover test."

I watched her slip into a meditative state as she ran her fingers over the letters on the paper. "'Ashlyn,'" she read aloud. "It's a pretty name."

Hearing that name come from Sophie's lips sent shivers up my spine.

She looked up at me. "Supposedly she's very good at—"

I immediately snatched the paper back from her and crumpled it up. "This is insane!"

"Hey!" she said, reaching unsuccessfully for the note. I felt like we were two five-year-olds fighting over the last piece of good chocolate from Grandma's candy jar. "What are you doing?" From the confusion in Sophie's eyes I could tell she was thinking that I was the insane one. And the truth was, at that moment she was probably right.