But they’re not my family, and I don’t want them on my conscience. I’m glad Ladd concurs, and in the end, Kynan reluctantly agrees to let us handle this with only remote support from Jameson.
We talk for another hour, and it’s decided Ladd and I will fly to El Salvador in the morning using a private charter plane. I already have a good set of fake credentials, and Bebe leaves the room to get to work on creating a set for Ladd to match mine. We’ll be traveling as a husband and wife on vacation.
We discuss a few more things on the technical side, and Dozer assures us we’ll have top-of-the-line support. When we’re finished and everyone disperses, Ladd advises me, “We’re going to my house in a few hours to grab Ethan and so I can pack. Then we’ll take him to Britney’s. You can hang out upstairs in the communal living area on the fourth floor until we’re ready to go.”
“Actually, is there a drugstore within walking distance?” I ask.
Ladd shakes his head. “There’s nothing any good within walking distance of this building. We’re in a dead zone in Pittsburgh. What do you need?”
“I want to change my appearance. When we find Mejia, I don’t want to make it easy for him to recognize me. He thinks I’m a blond. I thought I’d buy some hair color, and then later tonight, if you don’t mind, you can cut it.”
Ladd looks horrified at the idea. “I’ll take you right now to get some color and you can do it upstairs. But I’ll have Britney cut your hair. No way I’m doing it.”
“No way,” I say, echoing his sentiments. “She’s not cutting my hair.”
Ladd frowns. “Why not?”
Because it would be completely weird to have your ex-wife cutting my hair, much less talking to her.
Instead, I merely say, “I don’t want to impose. Especially since she’s pregnant.”
Ladd waves off my concern. “She’ll be happy to do it.”
Somehow I don’t doubt that. They seem to have an abnormally functional relationship for two divorced people. “Can she cut hair?”
Ladd shrugs. “Used to cut mine just fine.”
I hate the flush of jealousy that rockets through me … images of his wife doing something as intimate as cutting her lover’s hair.
That could’ve been me.
“I guarantee you she’s better than me,” Ladd says as an afterthought.
“Better at doing what?” I ask stupidly, having lost the thread of our conversation while trying to wade through that green jealousy swamp.
Ladd frowns again and seems concerned about me. “She’s going to be better at cutting your hair than I would be,” he drawls slowly, as if I’m a second grader who needs it spelled out at an understandable speed.
My cheeks feel hot with embarrassment. “Oh yeah… right.”
But I might as well just give in to it. It will be my penance for making such an awful mistake with Ladd all those years ago.
CHAPTER 13
Greer
While my adrenaline was pumping when my house was broken into a few nights ago, I wasn’t nervous. Rather, I was calm and collected because I had been trained to react that way.
As we get closer to Ladd’s house—where I’ll be meeting his son and ex-wife—I feel like I’m going to vomit.
For all these years, Ladd has remained my ultimate fantasy. He represented everything that had the potential to be good in my life. He was a potent reminder of all the things I wanted to give him but found out it was too late to do so.
Now, just by the occasion of meeting his son and ex-wife, I’m going to have a peek into the potential life I missed out on. The life I could have had if I’d looked deeper into my heart and figured out my shit a bit quicker.
But, I lost it. It’s my own fault. I have berated myself over and over again throughout the years for making the biggest mistake of my life and letting Ladd go. Even so, I had at least reconciled the fact that was part of my past life and that I could only look forward, without any preconceived notions, to whatever the future may hold. There’s no doubt in my mind that when I meet Ethan, I’ll wonder what type of son Ladd and I could’ve had.
When I meet Britney—whose name has already caused some bias as I’m expecting a pop-princess type—I’m going to feel bitter about the happiness she once had with Ladd. Because even though they’re no longer together, there was a time when they loved each other, very deeply. Otherwise Ladd never would’ve married her. And now they have a forever bond through their son.
Ladd lives in an older neighborhood off a two-lane mountain road in Upper St. Clair twenty-five minutes from Jameson’s downtown HQ. The lots are big and surrounded by hardwoods that, had they been bearing leaves, would act as a privacy screen to the houses on either side.
In the tail end of winter, the leaves are gone and a light flurry of snow falls. Ladd had mentioned that it’s supposed to get heavier later on, so we discussed the possibility of flying out tonight to avoid traffic issues tomorrow. With a quick call to Kynan, we were told that the private jet service Jameson uses can be ready to go with just a few hours’ notice.
Up ahead in the driveway sit two black Suburbans with tinted windows, blatantly obvious they belong to Jameson. Just inside the two-story brick home, I know there will be not only the agents who picked up Ethan from school but Ladd’s son himself, and I’m going to be meeting him soon. My palms are slick with sweat, and I’m irritated with myself that I’m so nervous.
He’s just a kid. Ladd said he was sweet and funny, so I truly have nothing to fear other than my own inner turmoil of facing a life that could have been mine. It will bring more self-flagellation over my stupidity, and I know I’m going to have moments of longing for a life that should’ve been mine, but I was too afraid to take the risk.
“… Miami and then head out from there,” Ladd says. I jolt with awareness he’s talking to me and that I’ve missed out on the majority of what he said.
“Say again?” I prod as he pulls in front of a two-car garage.
Turning off the vehicle and unlatching his seat belt, he looks across the center console at me. He doesn’t seem irritated to have to repeat something that was probably important.
Instead, his eyes move over my newly dyed hair, a chocolate brown as close to my original color as I could estimate. I’ve been blond for over a year, and it was shocking to see the transformation back into myself. Same color as my mother’s hair and more suited in both color and tone to my olive skin, also inherited from my mother.
Ladd stares for so long I become self-conscious and push my hair behind my ears. This is the longest it’s ever been, and I want to cut it, not only to disguise myself from Mejia but also because I usually wear my hair just above my shoulders. Not too long to make me hot, but long enough to pull into a ponytail should I need to get rid of the distraction of it when working out or during missions.
“Miami?” I say, trying to spark Ladd out of his perusal.
He blinks once and says, “We need to leave before the snow gets too heavy. I don’t want to chance the roads closing and delaying our departure.”
“Okay,” I reply, not having any argument against this idea. It’s smart.