Sophie blinked.
He knows where I live?
Then it hit her. Of course, he knew her address. It was printed at the top of the resume she’d given him four years ago, and she hadn’t moved since.
And even if he didn’t have it filed away somewhere, the guy worked for Homeland. For him, finding out where she lived would be child’s play.
“In that case, I’ll be ready by eight-thirty.”
“Great.” His lips curved into an almost-smile. “I’ll see you, then.”
“See you, then.”
As she watched him walk away—and damn, what a sight that was—Sophie took the next few minutes to figure out exactly what had just happened.
She was going out to dinner with Jason Ryker. Man of her dreams. Star of her fantasies.
But not as a date. As an informal interrogation with food.
Better than nothing, right?
Heading back to the ER, Sophie couldn’t help but wonder what sort of questions he could have for her. The incident in Djibouti happened weeks ago, and she’d already told him and the other agents everything she knew.
Maybe this is about Colton.
Had they finally found the missing journalist? The thought nearly made her steps faulter.
Every media outlet available had been running his story non-stop. They’d even compared it Olivia’s tragic experience two years prior when she’d gone missing and was presumed dead.
The hope was that Colton’s story would end the same way Liv’s had. That he’d be found alive, rescued, and brought back home in one piece.
But the more Sophie thought about it, the more she realized Jason wouldn’t have kept something like that from her. He would’ve told her if Colton had been found. Even if the news wasn’t good.
It doesn’t take an entire dinner to tell a person someone’s dead.
The remainder of her shift seemed to drag on forever. Despite her efforts against it, Sophie’s mind kept running through scenario after scenario, trying desperately to come up with what information Jason was looking to gain.
She didn’t tell Olivia about the impromptu dinner slash question session, but only because the woman would no doubt make it into something it wasn’t.
Sophie would fill her in later, after she found out exactly what Jason wanted from her.
Too bad it’s not what you want from him.
When seven o’clock rolled around, Sophie handed her patients off to the next doctor, skirted out of the hospital, and took the shortcut home to give herself plenty of time to get ready.
This may not be a romantic dinner, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still make herself look nice.
By eight-fifteen, she was dressed and ready to go. She didn’t know where he planned to take her, but since he was wearing a suit, she’d chosen a casual dress.
The cross-pleated dress was sleeveless and form-fitting, but loose enough to be comfortable. It was dark gray, so not the little black dress one she’d normally pick, and its bottom hem stopped two inches above her knees.
With her dark hair pulled half-up, Sophie had left the bottom section of her soft curls free to fall down to the center of her back.
She’d gone a little bolder with her makeup than was her norm, but nothing too excessive. The smoky look on her eyes was a bit much for the ER, but perfectly acceptable for a night out.
To top the look off, Sophie had chosen a pair of blush-colored heels. The lighter-toned shoes helped to visually elongate her short stature, and at five-three, she needed all the help she could get.
Giving herself a final once-over in the floor-length mirror in her bedroom. She spun around slowly, checking every angle the handsome agent would see.