Page 78 of Cyn
Cyn curled up nextto Joe on the couch in his living room, a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other. It had been a week since they’d prevented a major terrorist attack, and while she and Joe had mostly recovered from their scrapes and bruises, they were still taking it easy.
“How much time do we have?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer.
Cyn looked at the clock on her phone. “Beni said she’d call at 8:30. I suspect Six, Devil, and Nora will all be here in the next ten minutes.” The sound of cars pulling up on the street outside, a few doors slamming, then Six’s laughter filled the air. “Or they will be here now,” Cyn added, inching away from Joe so that he could rise and open the door for her friends.
“I brought dessert,” Nora called nearly as soon as Cyn heard the door open.
“I have booze, though, so you must love me more,” Six said, appearing in the doorway to the living room with two bottles of Don Julio 1942 tequila. She glanced around the cozy room before letting her gaze land on Cyn who had remained tucked up on the couch. “Or maybe I brought the booze because I loveyoumore than Nora does.”
“Not possible,” Nora said, nudging Six to the side and making her way into the room where she placed a platter on the coffee table. Cyn had a pretty good idea what was on it, but even so, she groaned when Nora pulled the cover off to reveal a selection of orange tarts, mini flourless chocolate cakes, caramels, and cookies.
“What did you bring, Devil?” Six asked, plopping down on the couch on the other side of Cyn.
“Flaming Cheetos,” she said, holding up three bags. Joe entered the room carrying a bunch of glasses, plates, and napkins on a tray—yes, the man owned a tray although Cyn was pretty sure the woman he rented the house from had left it…purple Grateful Dead bears weren’t really his thing.
He paused and eyed the bags Devil held up like Perseus holding Medusa’s head. “Cheetos?”
Cyn and Six snorted, and Nora shook her head. Devil rolled her eyes. “You all laugh, but after a couple of shots of tequila, what are you going to be craving?”
And she wasn’t lying. There was no official record of the most bags of Flaming Cheetos devoured during a night of drinking tequila, but it wasn’t hard for Cyn to recall at least a half a dozen nights when they’d each had their own bag and then some.
Joe set the tray down beside Nora’s, then straightened. “Wine or tequila?” he asked.
Her three friends all answered tequila. When his gaze lingered on her, she raised her wineglass. “I’ll finish this along with about half of the desserts Nora brought, and then I’ll start with the tequila. What about you?”
Joe chuckled as he started to pour the tequila into three small glasses. “Something tells me that I should avoid drinking this with you four when it’s a work night. I’ll stick with beer, thanks. But I may take some of those Cheetos. It isn’t just tequila they go well with,” he said, nodding to his bottle of pale ale on the side table.
They’d all settled into their seats with their drinks and small plates filled with Nora’s delicious baked goods when Cyn’s phone rang.
“Beni,” she said after connecting the call.
“Cyn. How are you and Joe recovering?”
“We’re good. I get the stitches in my hand out in two days, but other than that, our bruises are more colorful than painful, so I can’t complain.”
“Glad to hear it. You have everyone there?”
“I do,” Cyn confirmed.
“Hey, Nora,” a new voice came across the line.
“I told you to be quiet,” Beni said, obviously talking to her fiancé. Nora had met the vice president on the same op when Cyn had met Beni. Not that Cyn questioned why anyone would want to be friends with Nora—because everyone usually did—but she and Calvin Matthews had hit it off, and though Nora never said, Cyn was pretty sure that her friend was helping the couple find the right dog to adopt as soon as they married.
“Yeah, well, last timeItoldyouto be quiet, you didn’t listen to me,” Cal shot back.
Beni must have covered the phone because her voice was muffled, though still audible. “YouknowI can’t keep quiet when you do that thing. You did that on purpose. I couldn’t look at Craig for aweekafter that.” Craig was one of the vice president’s Secret Service detail who Cyn and Nora had also met.
In response, Cal’s low chuckle came across the line as Beni rejoined them. “Sorry about that. He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight, had some dinner thing in California he canceled. I tried to get him to go, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m not leaving you right now, Nita. We’ve had this discussion,” Cal said.
Since the two had officially gotten engaged two months ago, they’d been “allowed” by the political powers that be to live together, so long as the wedding wasn’t more than six months out.
“Holy shit,” Cyn said, jerking upright and out from under Joe’s arm. Thankfully, his beer was in his other hand and his plate was already empty. There were only two situations when Beni would consider allowing Cal to change his schedule for her. Since she obviously wasn’t on death’s bed, it had to be the one other.
“Oh my god, Cal,” Beni said. “You do realize that four of the smartest, wiliest women in the country are on the other end of this line. You might as well have taken out an ad.”
“When’s the due date?” Cyn asked.
