The Sway (3 page)

Read The Sway Online

Authors: Ruby Knight

“150, East 57th Street,” I called out to the driver.

Cole gaped at me, confusion settled in his brow line. “I thought we were going to your house.”

I nodded to him, masking my excitement. Here came the fun part. “We are. I live on the thirtieth floor.”

My voice came out with a well-practiced confused tone.

Cole opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I live on the forty-fourth floor. We have the entire top floor, actually.”

I mimicked the expression that should show shock across my features.

Cole smiled back at me. “We have been in the same building the entire year?”

I nodded and smiled.

“I guess so? I had no idea you lived there.” Liar liar, pants on fire. “Well, I guess it will make studying easy.”

Half of the last statement was true. It would make keeping Cole close to me—and by default, the US government—easy.

As we walked through the lobby of the immaculately appointed building, we made our way to the elevator and I felt eyes on me, bringing to my attention that I wasn't the only asset assigned to Cole by the government. The elevator attendant was there—also an agent.

“Miss Statton. Mr. Thomas. Good afternoon.”

I smiled and waved. Cole gripped his shoulder. The man had been in place for over ten years. Cole had grown up seeing his face, reinforcing his trust in him. Cole smiled.

“Hi, Jimmy. We're going to Julia's floor.”

He nodded and slid the key card in the slot to get the cart to move and up we went. The apartment I lived in was nice. I had my cover story down. No mom to mention and a father constantly overseas to do business, leaving his daughter in New York to fend for her, surprisingly responsible, self. It probably seemed far-fetched to some, but it wasn't nearly as crazy as the truth of my real identity as a government agent.

I stepped out of the elevator and through a hallway. Only one other apartment sat on this floor, it being a partial penthouse. I unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal shiny dark wood floors and floor-to-ceiling windows that extended past the great room and looked over Central Park.

“Great place,” Cole said as he paused, looking around. “I can't believe how different our two floors are.”

I nodded. Yeah, different enough that every word said and every move made inside these four walls was documented by the government—outside of the bathroom, anyway. I hadn't had privacy since the age of thirteen, and I had all but lost the ability to be shy within six months of living in DC and sharing a dorm with co-eds at Eisenhower.

“My view is better,” I joked.

He linked his arm around my neck, flirting by putting me in a headlock. Every instinct in me wanted to react to fight him off, but I played my part and grabbed his sides, making him laugh and release me. I didn't want to like the feeling of his arms around me, nor did I want to get comfortable with him. He was my assignment, even though somewhere inside, I wanted to toss my hair over my shoulder and flirt my heart out.

“Come on, the office is this way.” I headed off in the general direction of the room that housed my fake office. I opened the laptop that sat on the desk, and Cole pulled a chair over to sit by me.

As an agent, I'd been trained to notice everything. But I definitely didn't notice his thigh brushing against mine, ignoring the goosebumps on my arm and the feelings they made the only way I could keep myself in check.

A black blank screen stared back at me. Freak. The tech guys must not have been ready yet. I swear I'd been completely clear on what I needed for tonight. Cole looked over at me and he tapped his finger on the space bar. One single, blinking white cursor stared at us.

“Weird, I don't know why it isn't working.” I closed the screen and unplugged the laptop. “Let's go to the kitchen and you can have some food while I figure out what's up with the computer.”

He nodded and I glanced up to the camera in the old English bulldog bookend. My lifted eyebrow and pursed lips must give the idea to whoever was watching that camera that I clearly wasn't impressed. Cole stood up and held out a hand to me. I took it, and the smoothness of his large hand was in contradiction with the friction of mine. His eyes appeared intense, and I held his gaze a moment too long and sat frozen as the warmth his touch gave me spread through my body.

I had lost control of the situation by not reining in my hormones. Great. Someone would give me crap about this. Without a doubt.

I dropped his hand and picked up the laptop, assuming the tech on the other end got my message any evidence of the agency should be completely hidden when I reopened the device. Boys were always hungry, right? Food was the answer. Delay via his stomach. I opened the pantry and played Vanna White to the food it displayed.

“Have whatever you want. There is stuff for subs in the fridge.”

I went around the table and opened the laptop so the screen faced away from Cole. The basic computer home screen pulled up and just like magic, the information I needed to help Cole with the English assignment made itself available on the display.

Cole made himself comfortable in the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets and piling toppings on a plate of chips. My lips pressed into a smile, making my control slip. He glanced up at me. Caught. I shook my head slightly.

“I just had to reboot. So bring your food over. I hope you made enough for both of us.”

Cole carried over a plate of nachos covered with anything he'd found in the fridge. I would be lying if I said I wasn't impressed by his ability to make something out of nothing. He gave me a half-smirk that had me pushing back the emotions every seventeen-year-old would feel when the Cole of their school smiled at them like that.

I wasn't every girl. I was trained, and well.

I swallowed once and forced my heart rate to slow and my breathing to become deeper. Stupid, stupid hormones. But hormones, I could control. I'd been taught every single way to push the emotions away, and I did just that.

Cole flinched slightly when I slipped my well-formed mask into place.

“Why do you do that? Every time I feel like we are about to break into something deeper than the weather, you shut down. Your eyes change. The green in them swirls around and gets darker. You put up these walls higher than the Empire State building.”

The mics placed throughout the apartment had to have heard that, and just in case anyone at the agency wanted to replay it over and over, they had the video to view. I would be in trouble for this. How could he even recognize a change in me? I hadn't flinched, not one hair on my body raised in alert to the shift in my emotion.

“I can see your mind reeling, and I know you don't share a lot. I get it. Really, I do. Everyone at the school knows you don't share your secrets. I get that, too. I haven't ever had anyone care enough about me to talk about…” Cole paused and waved his hand in front of his face. “This shit, either. But Julia, you can trust me. I'm not going to disappear on some flight the second I get a phone call, like your dad does. I know he is away on business right now, and I'm guessing he is away what? Ninety-five percent of the year?”

Holy rant.

I nodded slowly. Maybe the time had come to turn on my fake water works. My actual dad was in Salt Lake probably setting up the annual family winter retreat to Park City. I had been on skis since the age of three and hadn't been back to Salt Lake for longer than twenty-four hours in the last six years. I missed my parents, so part of the tears actually would be real.

Cole walked over to me and pulled me into his arms and crushed me against his chest. Surprising how comfortable I felt in his arms.

Wrong, Julia! You aren't allowed comfort, only calculations
.

How could I spin this to be a gain for my country? Cole obviously wasn't as close to his father as our intel had suggested. Having me in place was a security precaution.

He placed his lips against my ear. “Come for a ride with me. My bike is in the garage.”

I nodded against his chest and looked up directly at the camera.

“Are you trying to tell me you don't want to get your homework done?” I mocked shock on my face.

He smirked at me and rolled his eyes. “First time I have been able to get your attention all year. Yeah, I don't want to do homework.”

He trailed his fingers along my arm. This was it—hook, line, and sinker. Cole was done for. Who knew how easy it could be to make a boy fall for you? A few glances here, a couple touches there, and bam, we were going to his place.

“Let me grab my coat and put on some different shoes before we go.”

That was about as much heads-up I could the agency if they felt the need to tail me. I slipped off my five-inch heels and avoided the urge to rub my feet. Those shoes hurt, but any New Yorker wouldn't even know the difference.

I opened my lavishly appointed closet and grabbed a pair of combat boots and socks, slipped on leggings, and threw on a hoodie followed by a leather coat. I walked out to find Cole sitting on my bed, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. I hadn't closed the closet door as I changed. Had never needed to in the past. Dumb.

“Did you just see me?” I began as Cole started nodding with far too much enthusiasm. “You know that isn't the gentleman's way of handling things. You should've waited outside my room.”

I raised my eyebrows at him.

He held up his hands.

“I never claimed to be a gentleman,” he said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes with so much exaggeration it was a miracle they didn't get stuck in the back of my head.

“Head out of the gutter, Thomas. Let's go,” I said, shaking my head.

Cole pushed off the bed and followed me out of the apartment.

“I want to run up to my place, change clothes and stuff,” he said as he reached for my hand, like that was something completely normal.

I nodded. We were already out in the hall when he made the statement, so I didn't know if comms had heard it or not. I didn't need them busting in his door. I twisted my stud diamond earring in my ear and clicked on my practically invisible earpiece.

“All right. I'm excited to see how much better your apartment is than mine.”

My attempt to get the message across to the agency that I was going up a few flights, instead of down on the elevator. My earpiece clicked.


We hear you. Going up to lover boy's, got it.

I cringed and switched off the piece. If Cole's dad was as paranoid as the agency made him out to be, he no doubt had some sort of device that detected bugs, and I wasn't going to get caught with mine on. Cole turned back to me and shook his head. He pulled out his wallet and fished out a black key card that gave him access to his penthouse.

The elevator opened directly into a stunning marble foyer that had to have thirty-foot ceilings. The chandelier hanging in the entry sparkled like the diamonds in the Tiffany and Co. windows on 5th Avenue. I let out a breath and Cole draped his arm lazily over my shoulders.

“Come on. My room is on the second floor.”

This place was huge. The floor plan the government had on file wasn't nearly as detailed as it should have been. If I had ever been sent here, I would have been screwed. I made a mental note to add everything I saw to the schematics in my safe. I stopped when we passed through two double doors and into the great room.

“Wow. This is stunning.”

No fake emotion here. At least the agency wasn't here to monitor my reaction. Cole laughed and pulled me along. It was what he saw every day and my view was good, but a lot more of the city could be seen from up here. The claustrophobic feeling I got on the streets from time to time existed a world apart from this penthouse suite. Or maybe it had to do with the idea that I wasn't being watched right now. My head was still over my shoulder taking in the view when Cole came to a sudden stop.

“I didn't know you were in town, sir.”

He slid his arm off my shoulder, and I didn't exactly love the cold that crept up in its absence. I looked up into the empty green eyes of what appeared to be Cole plus forty years. Hank Thomas. His lips were pressed into a firm line; he trusted no one, apparent by the way he held his body and the intimidation he was used to commanding. He held out his hand. I reached to shake it, and he gripped my fingers uncomfortably tight.

“Hank Thomas,” he said coolly. “You are the girl that lives on the thirtieth floor, if I'm not mistaken. I still have yet to meet your father. When will he be in town next?”

Not good. I couldn't tell if I was made or not yet.

“I'm Julia Statton. This is my dad's busy season. He won't be back until the end of the month and, even then, he will probably only stay for a day or two to refuel before heading to Prague.”

My fingers were going numb from the force of Hank Thomas' grip. Cole placed a strong hand on his father's arm.

“We go to school together, Dad. Julia's dad is gone as often as you are. Stop grilling her. You know what it's like to have the majority of your clients overseas.”

Hank Thomas slipped on a mask I was familiar with: the fake happy one.

“You're right, son. I'm sorry, Miss Statton. I tend to be a bit protective of my son.”

He finally released my hand. His eyes twinkled as he waited for me to show weakness by shaking off his crippling grip. I didn't give him the pleasure. Cole grabbed my other hand and entwined our fingers.

“We're going for a ride. I'll see you when I see you.”

Anger showed on Hank Thomas' face as he took in our hands and his son's attitude. He quickly replaced it with a calm façade.

“I am going to be leaving tonight for a while. I'm not sure exactly when I will be back,” he said.

Cole shrugged. “You never are. It doesn't really matter.”

Hank eyed me and dropped his gaze to our linked hands again, then looked up at Cole.

“I want you to join me this week. I have one of the jets set up to bring you to me on Wednesday afternoon. I've already cleared it with your school.”

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