“I don’t need one.” He brushed her hair back from her face and started trailing kisses down her jaw. “No one is looking for me outside of our world.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Don’t look so disappointed,” he said, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. “After you’re finished, we get our assignment details.”
“Will you come with me for that part?”
“I’d love to.” He kissed her knuckles, then let her go. “This isn’t over,” he said, gesturing between them. “You know that, right?”
Of course she knew. They were just getting started.
“Why do you look like someone peed in your cereal?”
Vivienne snorted. Emily was ridiculous. She tucked her wallet into her purse and grabbed her Kensington hat from the table in case she hated her new hairdo. “I start my first mission next week and—”
“You have a mission already?”
“Yeah. Today’s my makeover.” She checked her reflection in the living room mirror and pressed some stray hairs back into her ponytail. “But I don’t really think I need one.”
“Of course you don’t need one,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “You’re fabulous. But you get one because you’re lucky! You can’t go on a mission looking like yourself. You need to become someone else.” She picked up a coffee cup and struck the famous pose from Hamlet.
“You’re nuts. You know that, right?”
“You love me anyway.” She dropped the cup in the sink. “In fact, you love me so much, you want me to come with you.”
As if Vivienne would say no to her best friend. “On one condition.”
“Anything.”
“You have to make sure I don’t look stupid.” If she was going to look different, she wanted to look good.
Emily groaned and rolled her eyes. “As if that’s even possible.”
Deacon was going to keep his eyes forward. On the blue sky. Or the gravel crunching beneath his shoes. Or the watch on his wrist. He was not going to check out the blonde coming toward him.
Vivienne. He was going to meet Vivienne.
And he was going to be on his best behavior, because she deserved—
“Deacon? Where are you going?”
He froze mid-stride. Turned around and—“Vivienne?”
She had certainly sounded like Vivienne. But where her hair should have been dark and falling in waves down her back, it dusted her collarbone and was platinum blonde. She was wearing glasses and red lipstick and a black one-piece thing he really liked. What would she say if he suggested they leave for their mission tonight?
“Yeah, it’s me,” she laughed.
The melodious sound gave her away, convincing him this trendy blonde was his Vivienne.
No. Not his.
At least not yet.
He cleared his throat and managed to say, “You look…” Wonderful. Amazing. Beautiful. Sexy. Like a total ride. None of those seemed to cover it.
“Weird, I know.” She pulled on the edges of her hair as if that would force it to grow back.
He shook his head. “Different.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
“Yes, but they’ve outdone themselves this time.”
“The hairdresser said he wanted me to look as different as possible to keep from being noticed.”
“You mean recognized.” Because there was no way she would go unnoticed looking like that.
“Exactly.”
Deacon accompanied her for the short stroll to the Hall, but he couldn’t stop staring. He’d nearly fallen into the fountain, he was so distracted. He said a silent prayer that Michael had come through for him. Because he was not letting Vivienne go anywhere with anyone else.
Vivienne followed him down the hallway, past the grandfather clock. When they reached Michael’s office, he was waiting for them in the doorway. The tie he’d had on earlier had been abandoned on the glossy black sit-stand desk.
“Long time no see, Michael.” Deacon clapped him on the back. He inclined his head toward Vivienne. “This is Vivienne.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“Same to you.” Michael took an exaggerated step aside and waved them into his office.
Deacon crossed the checkerboard tiles to one of the two black chairs in front of the desk, then waited for Vivienne to sit first. Once she was comfortable, both Deacon and Michael sat down.
“Vivienne, since this is your first mission, I’ll revert to you when asking questions. At the end of our interview, let me know if you have any of your own. You’ll have Deacon on assignment to help guide you, but here’s a card with my numbers just in case.”
Michael had come through for him. Deacon smiled so wide his face hurt.
Vivienne accepted the card and put it into her handbag. “Thanks.”
Michael slid two thick envelopes across the tabletop. Vivienne picked hers up and opened the clasp at the back. Deacon collected his but didn’t open it; instead, he scooted closer to catch a glimpse of the contents of her envelope.
At the top of the documents inside was a driver’s license bearing a photo of the newly blonde Vivienne, but with a different name.
“Alice Barnard,” she said, smoothing her fingers across the reflective image.
“This is your alias packet,” Michael explained. “Inside you’ll find your new license, credit cards, and other necessary documentation for you to maintain your cover. Read what’s enclosed and memorize all relevant information. When you’re finished, destroy any papers containing your backstory.”
She leafed through the documents, then straightened the pile against his desk. “Where’s the info on my new high school?”
Michael leaned forward, his bearded chin on tented fingers. “You won’t be attending school this time.”
“Why not?”
“Albert thought it would be best if Deacon acted as the lead recruiter on this assignment. You’ll be assisting as his scout.”
She dropped the alias packet onto her lap. “You want me to just sit back and let Deacon know when our mark is going to change?”
“No. You’ll also be covering the evenings by getting a job where the mark works.”
“You will be helping,” Deacon assured her, wanting so badly to reach for her hand but knowing Michael wouldn’t be impressed if he did. “Evening and weekend coverage can get tricky, and the last thing you want is for the mark to think you’re stalking them.”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “Then they definitely won’t want to come.” She lifted the packet, tucked it under her arm, and asked if there was anything else she needed to know.
“You should be all set. But before you go, I have one last question for you,” Michael said. “Do you have any interest in bird watching?”
“Birdwatching? No.” Her brows came together in confusion. “Why?”
Deacon cleared his throat.
Michael shrugged. “I’m just making sure you won’t be too distracted to do your job in Maryland.”
Birds chirped in the air and searched the ground for wormy sustenance on the short walk back to her apartment. Although there was still a nip to the April breeze, the sun felt warm on her black jumpsuit. PAN sunned themselves on the Hall’s roof, two girls had their noses stuck in books on the fountain wall, and every picnic table outside The Glass House was full.