ThenIturn and head out the doors.I’vebeen trying to convince myselfI’mready for a job in risk management, but between carrying this device in my pocket that feels like a ticking time bomb, the request for me to be an actual spy, and my inability to askDaisyout,I’mstarting to wonder ifIeven know how to manage my own risks.
CHAPTER 4
ESPRESSO YOURSELF… BUT KEEP THE ESPIONAGE SECRET
DAISY
Icould askOllieout,Ithink asImake the last coffee of the day.Icould make the first move.Ilike to talk to people and do fun things.Soif a guy seems interesting and a fun thing to do with them pops into my head, it’s natural for me to ask them to do it with me.
ButI’mnot going to askOllieout, because my history has shown that wheneverI’vebeen the one to do the asking, things between us never work out.Theyhave to be the one who shows interest and is willing to make the first move.
Iknow this rule isn’t true for everyone—LaurelaskedGavinout first, and now they’re off blissfully living the married life.Butfor me, it’s absolutely true.
Besides, now isn’t the time to get involved with someone.I’mgoing to be moving somewhere new any day now.MaybeSavannah,Georgia.It’sgot historiccharm, southern hospitality, and a coastal vibe.Itmight be perfect.
Iput a lid on the to-go cup, and nestle it into the insulated delivery bag with the fifteen others forPacioli&Blackwell.Iplace the box of hand-picked-by-me pastries on top of the drinks and zip the lid closed.ThenItellNoragoodbye and heft the bag outside.Myfavorite part of my job is delivering to businesses becauseIget to take theCoffeeLoftgolf cart to do it.
Parkinglots are my favorite.Especiallyones with a lot of open space between cars.Ilike to pretendI’man alpine skier doing the slalom and the cars are the gatesI’mskiing around. (AfterIdo my delivery, of course.I’mnot reckless—Ihave very full coffee cups on the seat next to me.)
Icarry the bag into the accounting firm and take the elevator up to the third floor, then go down a long hall to a conference room whereIalways deliver to a weekly meeting of managers everyWednesdayat 4:00.Iplace all sixteen cups of coffee, along with a basket ofCoffeeLoftcreamers and sweeteners and the box of pastries, on the back table in the conference room as all the managers start filing in.
I’vebeen delivering to this same crowd for the past year and a half, soI’vegotten to know them pretty well.Iknow who is going to get excited about which pastries, who loves what flavor of creamers, and who likes to beast-mode their coffee and drink it black.Wejokearound for a bit andIget everyone laughing beforeIexit with my insulated bag so they can start their meeting.
I’mabout to turn to go down the long hallway back to the elevators whenIseeOllieto my right.Inall the timeI’veworked at theCoffeeLoftand he’s worked here,I’venever once bumped into him when bringing the weekly coffee to the managers.He’sstanding in an alcove, and he’s looking rather distressed.
So, of course,Ihead right instead of left.Helooks like he’s thinking through something pretty deeply, because whenIsay, “Ollie?” he jumps in surprise.
“Daisy?” he says, looking a bit bewildered. “Whatare you doing here?”
Thestrap of the insulated bag is over one shoulder, andIshrug with that side. “Delivery.Areyou okay?”
He’sgot something tiny in his hand, andI’mguessing that if it were any bigger, he’d be wringing it.Sincehe can’t, he’s pinching it between his finger and thumb on one hand, then switching to the other hand to pinch it there.
“Yeah,I’mfine.Anold friend just asked me to do something that could cause a lot of trouble, andIdon’t know ifIcan do it.”
“Doyouwantto do it?”
“Yeah!Imean,Iwant to be helpful.Ijust…”Hepauses for a moment, looking down at whatever is in his hand. “Doyou know what?Ican’t do it.Ican’t.”
Ican tell that whatever it is, it’s important, though.Hewants to help his friend.SoIwalk over and stand beside him, facing the same direction, andIput my hand in his. “Wouldit help if you had a friend doing it with you?”
Helooks down at our hands for a moment, seeming a little stunned.Butafter a moment, he nods and says. “Itreally would.”Heglances around, then pulls me down a hall that dead ends at a door a dozen feet from the main hallway we were in.Helooks through a narrow vertical window in the door, then glances down the hall again. “IfItell you something, do you promise to keep it between us no matter what?”
“Ollie,”Isay, my voice as serious asIcan make it, “if you tell me something and ask me not to share,I’lltake it to my grave.”AndIwill.Ipride myself on my secret-keeping abilities.
Helooks into my eyes for a long moment, nodding slowly.Thenhe looks down at the object in his hand, soIdo, too.Ihave no idea what it is until he says, “Ineed to plant this listening device in the records room.”
Thenmy eyes go wide. “Ollie!Areyou serious?”
Henods.
“Whois this friend of yours?Andwhy do they want you to commit espionage?”
“He’san intelligence operative with a government agency, and he wants me to do it becausemy coworker is using illegal accounting practices to aid a foreign terrorist group.”
Ipull my head back in surprise. “Oh, wow.Thatis huge.”
Henods again. “Itis.AndifIget caught planting this…”
