Wevery much are.
Thisis the first mission thatMackenziehas accompanied me on.Asmy date, not as an operative.Icould’ve stealthily crashed this cocktail party for TransGlobalExchange’sNewYorkoffice in several ways, but strolling right on in withMackenzieat my side turned out to be rather enjoyable and very effective.Andnow, we are sporting peel-and-stick name tags and socializing with the employees.
TransGlobalExchangeis a legit company, and it’s likely that nearly everyone here— except for the finance manager and a few others— isn’t involved in any illegal activities.Butwhile the ones doing illegal things are tied up at this party whereIcan keep an eye on them,Milesis getting into the finance manager’s office through much stealthier means.Wehave good intel that it contains documents that show evidence of their involvement in money laundering and organized crime on an international level.
Beingback together withMackenzieover this past week has been amazing.Allthe weeks with her before were, too, butIhadn’t realized how much my worries about being an intelligence operative and being withMackenzieat the same time were holding me back from really enjoying the relationship.
NowthatI’vegotten past those worries, everything is even more incredible than it ever was.Ican’t believe how luckyIam to have found a woman who is everything thatMackenzieis and everything thatInever knewIneeded.
Iglance around the big room with the standing cocktail tables.Beforecoming on this mission,Imemorized the name, picture, and job title of every employee attending.Beinga good intelligence operative means controlling the situation, and coming prepared is the best way to make people believe that you belong.
“Overthere,”Mackenziesays, motioning subtly with her virgin mojito.
Ifollow her gesture to a woman in her late thirties with shoulder-length brown hair and stylish glasses who was recently chatting with another couple.Thatcouple just walked away, leaving her alone at one of the tall tables.Shelooks just like her picture, soIknow that it’sChristine, an employee in human resources who is over health insurance.
Whenwe reachChristine,Mackenziemoves her hair away from the name tag that’s stuck to her deep purple fitted cocktail dress that has the nameKimwritten with aSharpie.Shetold me she does that because it’s easier for people if they can see the name instead of just hearing it.It’sjust one of the ways she looks out for people.
“Hi,”Mackenziesays. “I’mKim.”
Ihad tried to talk her into using “Mayflower” as her cover name, but she gave it a hard pass.Shehad a hard time choosing between the cover name “Claire,” as an homage toMission:Impossible, the first field operative movie she saw withLivi, and “Kim” fromKimPossible, the titular character in a spy series she loved as a kid.
Inthe end, she chose the animated teenage hero.Mostintelligence operatives have a go-to cover name along with a few others they use as the situation calls for it.Idon’t know how many missions like thisMackenziewill join me on as my date, but it won’t surprise me if she chooses a different cover name each time.
“Christine,” the woman says, reaching a hand out to shake ours.
Wemake small talk with her asIsurreptitiously keep an eye on the finance manager, ensuring that he’s staying in the room.Eventually, the woman asks us how “Kim” andImet.
“Istarted working here as a temp in the marketing department… what was it?”Mackenzielooks at me. “Abouta year or a year-and-a-half ago?”
“Fifteenmonths and nine days ago.”
“Thatis so sweet you remember the exact day!”Christinesays.
“Itwould be hard to forget.Ihad gone into the break room for a mid-morning coffee— ”
“— andIwas there making myself a cup of mint tea,”Mackenziesays, finishing my sentence.
“Sheturned and smiled at me,”Isay, smiling right now, because this backstory that we are making up as we go is taking me right back to the dayIfirst laid eyes onMackenziewhen we made up a different joint backstory for her blind date’s benefit.
“Itmight have been more of a grimace,”Mackenziesays.
Inod. “Itwas a grimace, for sure.Kimhad a jar of honey that she was trying to open so she could put some in her tea.”
Mackenziegives me a smile that tells me that it means something to her thatIam bringing up the honey. “Andthe lid was stuck likeNASAscientists had made glue to keep it closed.”
Ishrug. “Well, if you’re going to carry around a jar of honey in your purse,Iguess it’s good to have it sealed tightly.”
Mackenzienods. “SoJason, being the chivalrous man that he is, came over to help.”
“Exceptit didn’t exactly go so well.”
Christineis looking back and forth between us, very invested in the story. “Whathappened?”
Mackenziereaches out and squeezes my bicep. “Heused a bit too much muscle and honey splattered all over my blouse.”
“Luckily,”Itell her, “Ihad a spare shirt at my desk.”
“Unluckily, it was at-shirtin a sickly green color that reminded me of a soccer team from whenIwas a kid, and across the chest, it readHoldon.Letme overthink this.”
