“Yeah, well. She’s my friend, and she was being hung out to dry. I seem to remember you risked being charged with treason when Trent asked for your help when they were under fire at the lake house.”
She had him, and she knew it. The night they’d met, they’d both put loyalty to their friends over the job. She just had to trust he’d do the same for Hanna.
“Anyway, when I opened the compact, I had a message from Olivia using our code. But it wasn’t anything mission-related, so I didn’t see a reason to tell you.”
He held her gaze for a long, loaded moment. Then he said, “What was the message?”
“Omar—”
“I want to trust you. I really do. But if you hold out on me, I’m not sure how I can.”
She raised her chin, pulled back her shoulders, and spoke with as much dignity as she could muster. “If you must know, she was cheerleading me, letting me know she believed in me even though I didn’t have any field experience.”
His brown eyes went wide. “We all believe in you,” he said slowly.
“Clearly not. You said it yourself, I’m not an expert in the field. I’m a desk jockey.”
“That’s not what I meant. Everyone know you’re qualified, but you didn’t sign up?—”
She cut him off. No need to delve into her insecurities. “Anyway, after Jake ordered us to abort the mission and abandon Hanna?—”
“He didn’t say abandon Hanna,” he insisted.
“Regardless of the semantics, that’s what he wanted us to do. So I sent Olivia a coded message asking her to talk to him or to get Trent to talk to him.”
“You can’t play back-channel office politics while you’re undercover in an active mission, Marielle. You have to be focused solely on the mission.”
“I was focused on the mission.” Her voice was hot when she went on, “I am focused on the mission. Can you just let me finish, please?”
“Fine.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “Finish.”
“After I fell in the pool, I was a worried the device might stop working.”
“You shouldn’t have been. Our team’s the best. Waterproofing is child’s play for them.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Just before dinner, I opened the compact to touch up my lipstick, and I had a message. Poppy Jones was right next to me. She saw the light blinking.”
He nodded his head slowly, understanding. “That’s why you made up the story about the compact being broken. Because Brad’s bubble-headed pop star girlfriend saw the light flash.”
“She seemed very interested. So I made a big deal about it being on the fritz.”
“What was the message?”
She held his gaze. “Don’t go to the safe house.”
He looked at her. She looked at him. The room was so quiet she could hear the hum of bees’ wings in the overgrown herb garden below the open window.
A light rap on the door broke the silence.
Hanna’s voice floated in from the hallway. “I’m all done. Next up.”
Marielle popped to her feet, grabbed her borrowed clothes, and rushed off to the bathroom, leaving him to process what she’d said.
Six
L’Auberge Arbousier’s warm, homey kitchen was laid out for efficiency. From the first glance it was clear the space served dual purposes: one commercial; the other, personal.
Omar pulled out a chair at the rustic wooden table while Luc moved between the refrigerator and a green tiled counter, assembling their meal with the practiced ease of someone who fed guests regularly.