Page 56 of Code Name: Atticus
“We should probably brief the team.”
“You’re right. But first, can wepleaseeat?”
I froze when the first thing that came to mind was that Atticus sounded just like a little boy. A little boy that he and I would have some day.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. Just, um, really hungry.”
As I put jam on a rock-hard piece of toast, my cell rang with a call from a blocked number.
“Bronwyn Nolan.”
“Mrs. Nolan, this is Patricia calling for Mr. Morrison.”
Atticus immediately moved closer, abandoning the eggs to listen.
“Good morning, Patricia.”
“Mr. Morrison wanted to personally invite you and your husband to an exclusive gathering this weekend at Valley Ridge Resort.”
My pulse quickened. This was it. The real recruitment would happen there.
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Excellent. The conference begins Friday afternoon. The main program concludes Saturday evening, with a departure the following morning at your leisure.”
“Please thank him on our behalf. This is quite generous.”
“Of course. And please let me know if you have any questions.”
I considered asking if the Mitchells were invited too, but it felt too contrived. We’d know soon enough.
After I hung up, Atticus pulled me against him. “Valley Ridge Resort. That’s about two and a half hours south, maybe three with traffic.”
“You know it?”
“Drove through there as a kid. Family camping trips to Point Lobos. It’s isolated, exclusive—perfect for Morrison’s purposes. One road in, private security, the works.”
“Time spent under constant scrutiny.”
“But also three days before we have to be fully ‘on’ again,” he pointed out. “Today, tomorrow, and Thursday are ours.”
Next up was the briefing, but I wanted to wait a few minutes before initiating it, to give Morrison’s admin time to place the call to Kodiak or Emma if she hadn’t already.
After cleaning up from breakfast, Atticus and I took a shower together—something that felt intimate even without sex. Could a relationship be this easy? This comfortable? It wasn’t like we were just on holiday and playing at real life. For both of us, this was as close to real life as it got, outside of Atticus being on a mission in someplace like the Middle East or Russia, or me in the midst of a trial.
“Heard from Kodiak,” Atticus said when I finished drying my hair. “He and Emma received the same invitation we did.”
“Excellent news. We should schedule a briefing.”
“Would you like me to take care of that, madam prosecutor?”
I studied him but didn’t see any signs of jest. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“How’s zero nine thirty?”
“Perfect. Thanks.” While he handled that, I messaged Emma, who responded she and Kodiak would head to the safe house now.
