Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(15)

“Charlie!” Kristy squeaks as she rushes toward me. “It’s been forever. How are you?”

Kristy Tubb is my childhood friend. Her father Dean was an agent for twenty years and my father’s handler. Naturally, they pushed us to be friends, and it was a blessing we got along. We grew up having only each other to talk to. Our “family vacations” were always spent together in some remote place with nothing to do. We had to entertain ourselves with made-up worlds and games. Kristy suspects I’m truly a spy, but I’ll never trust anyone outside the CIA.

“You!” I smile. “You look amazing!”

She scoffs. “Hello! Look at you! I mean, do you eat?” My face falls. I’m not telling him about that one. She doesn’t count. “I was hoping you’d be here tonight. Is Dom here?”

I chuckle. “I think your ship sailed, my friend.” I loop my arm in hers as we walk toward the bar. Where, of course, my brother happens to be talking to someone.

“Not until I get one sailing trip in,” she jokes. “I’ll never lose hope on him.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. She’s a mess. You’d think after twenty years, she’d move on. But instead, she just keeps trying. “Look who I found, Dom.”

“If it isn’t Kristy Tiny Tubb.” Dominic slips into politician mode. I watch as his body tenses, but he uses the nickname that drives her insane. “Been a while. You look great.”

She nods and then downs her champagne. “It’s been a long time, and I really hate that you still call me that. I’m not so tiny anymore.”

His eyes peruse her for far longer than I’m comfortable watching. “I’ll let you two catch up,” I say a little too loudly. “Come find me when the deejay shows up!”

“Not a chance in hell Priscilla hired a deejay.” Kristy giggles.

“But I might have.” I tip my glass with a grin.

I saunter off to find that waiter with the drinks. I’ll need to keep a full glass if I’m expected to stay for any period of time. Of course, Mom spots me before the nice man can refill me.

She gives me that mom stare that pins me to the floor. If I could read minds, I’m sure that look would say, Move and I’ll kill you. Don’t test me, Charisma. So, like a good daughter, I stay put.

“There you are, Charlie.” This woman. She actually sounds as if she happened to stumble upon me. Maybe she really is in the agency.

“Yes, here I am. Just standing here hoping that my new best friend makes his rounds.”

“His?”

I lean in. “I like the waiter.”

“Anyway,” she decides not to play along. “I want you to meet someone.”

Oh, this can’t be good.

“Mr. Dixon, this is my daughter, Charlie Erickson.”

My mother steps to the side, and sure enough, Mark f*cking Dixon is standing before me.





What the actual f*ck?

How in the hell did he find me? This makes no sense. I haven’t talked to him in two weeks while I’ve been working on my own things. I didn’t tell him I’d be at my father’s gala. I didn’t tell anyone. This is completely unacceptable. Stalker much?

My entire body is tense as my mother beams at us both. She has no clue that we know each other. My blood is boiling. He shouldn’t be here. This is my family. He’s gone one-step too far, but at the same time a thrill rushes through me. No one has ever gone through the trouble of trying to find me. In the past, any man I dated brushed it off. There was no hunt, no excitement, just a nod and a kiss on the cheek. However, Mark’ll never know that I find this a little exhilarating—he’ll only see fire.

He steps forward with a grin. “Nice to see you, Charlie.” He extends his hand and waits for me to stop trying to kill him in my mind.

“Same to you, Mr. Dick—” I pause, “—son.” I tip my flute filled with my courage. “How absolutely lovely it is to see you.”

My mother’s eyes blaze. “Charlie!” She takes the glass from me. “How many of those have you had?” Her words come through gritted teeth.

Shit.

“Just one.” I try to grab it back, but she places it on the table.

“Well, Mr. Dixon has made a rather large donation to your father’s education fund. I know how much this charity means to you, as well,” she says with a pointed stare. In other words, You care more than you’ll ever admit or I’m cutting you out of the will and selling the shoes.

“Thank you so much for being such a thoughtful man,” I say, laced in a sugary sweet voice dripping in venom.

My mother turns her attention, and I use my finger and make the gesture of slicing my neck. Mark gives a loud laugh, drawing her back to us. “I’m glad it makes you happy,” he says.

“Do you two know each other?”

Oh, this might actually be good. Priscilla isn’t to be toyed with. She makes me look like a daydream. I stand there with a smile as she waits for Mark to answer.

“Charlie and I have a mutual friend. We’ve met before. I manage a security firm and our paths have crossed with work.”

Instead of becoming the slightest bit skeptical, she beams. It’s as if light glows from around her. “So, you work for the government?”