Page 8 of Blind Prophet

I wish I’d never mentioned Luke to these two. It’s not until I push open the heavy door to the roof and suck in the salty air do I find calm. I’ve been jittery all day, and while I’d like to lie to myself and claim it’s due to the unexpected turn of events at work, I’m well aware of the truth.

Stella starts unscrewing the cork, and Sophia sets the glasses down on one of the small tables. The setting sun colors the horizon salmon pink with flecks of gold, crossing the Pacific in the distance. I’ve always loved the view from the rooftop of Arrow’s offices. Sitting up here, seeing the tops of palm trees and cyclists in the street, you’d never know it’s December. At street level, it’s a different story, full of reminders, with decorations adorning the light poles and every business featuring a holiday window display.

“So, Luke…” Sophia says.

“We had one dinner,” I say. We also had a lunch date, but I don’t need to remind these two. “I enjoy talking with him. He keeps up with current events.” I keep my voice flat to set expectations.

“I may have screwed things up,” Sophia says with a scrunch of her nose. “Don’t be mad.”

What could she do?“Oh, my god.”I can’t believe her.“Do not tell me you planned a double date.”

“What? No. Double dates aren’t Fisher’s thing.”

That’s good to know, and one more reason to like Fisher. She got together with her husband on her first assignment in the field. I was one of the few within the CIA who knew they were dating back then. They’ve been married for years.

“Luke’s on the ground support team. He asked why you were selected to go on-site.” Sophia’s hands flutter, a defensive motion of hers when she thinks she needs to explain herself, which means she told him everything. “He’s on the team. It’s not information we keep secret.”

“You didn’t tell him you’d been married before?” Stella asks, picking up on the issue.

“We didn’t discuss prior relationships.” They both look at me like I’ve got a bloody nose. “One dinner,” I remind them. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret. It’s fine.”

“I get that,” Stella says. “I was married before Trevor, and I rarely talk about that asshole.”

“I didn’t know that,” I say.

Stella’s never mentioned a prior marriage, but why would she? That’s exactly the point I was making.

Stella passes me a glass of wine, and I gladly take it.

“Was it a bad divorce?” Stella asks.

“Nooo.” I draw the word out, remembering that painful time. But, I mean, are there any good divorces?

“He’s richer than Jack Sullivan, isn’t he?” Stella asks. “You must’ve walked away with a mint.”

I sip my wine rather than dignify that with a response.

“And no,” Stella says, “we didn’t do a detailed background report on you when you were hired. Since you were coming from the CIA and were referred by Sophia, we did the minimum. I just know you don’t have debt.”

“That’s where I’m not feeling good about this plan,” Sophia says. “Are you certain he doesn’t know what you do?”

“Like I told the team, he has no knowledge that I ever worked for the CIA. I applied to Langley after we separated.”

“But couldn’t a friend in common have told him?”

“If you have these concerns, why didn’t you speak up at the meeting?”

She licks her upper lip. Hesitant. “Because I didn’t want to cast doubt on your ability to do this.”

“You recommended me as a hire and didn’t want to look bad.”

“That’s not it at all,” Sophia says, a tad too defensively to be believable.

“All right. I’m a little lost here,” Stella says. “I think we got off track.”

I close my eyes and tilt my head back, stretching my throat. Sophia is not my enemy. She’s one of my closest friends.

“It’s been years since he’s contacted me,” I say, swirling the wine. “As far as my friends know, I work for a bank. It’s the easy answer to give, since no one asks about a boring corporate job.”

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