Free Ends of the Earth by Bruce Hale Page A

or
two.”
    “Okay,” said Max.
    “You’re so fresh!” Vespa’s voice grew louder and she assumed a flirty tone. “I can’t believe you said that.”
    Max followed her back into the bedroom. He tried for a suave attitude. “Believe it, baby.”
    They both grimaced at his clumsy attempt to be Joe Smooth.
    But Vespa kept up their cover. She giggled. “That’s enough out of you! Better scoot before my aunt finds out.”
    “Later, then,” said Max, reaching for the knob. With the door half open, he veered back to make some parting comment. But the impact of two warm lips on his cheek left him
stunned.
    “For the cameras,” Vespa murmured.
    “Uh,” said Max. And he stumbled from the room into the hallway.
    “
There
you are,” said Humphrey, rounding the corner. His gaze flicked over Max’s shoulder, then back to his face, and he grinned wolfishly. “Lover
boy.”
    Max looked around. Vespa was shutting the door, and she blew him a kiss.
    “That’s me,” said Max. “Lover boy.”
    Humphrey shook his head, chuckling. “The guv’nor won’t be pleased when she hears of your shenanigans.”
    “Don’t tell?” Max pleaded.
    “Boy,” said the agent, “ain’t no secrets in this place.”
    Max crossed and uncrossed his arms, thinking of what he’d actually been up to. For the sake of his mission and his life, he sincerely hoped Humphrey’s statement wasn’t
true.
    Later that night, as he tossed and turned, waiting for sleep, all Max could think of was escaping from LOTUS by any means necessary. (Well, that, and the touch of Vespa’s
lips on his cheek.) Maybe he was disappointing Hantai Annie by not continuing as a double agent, but he just couldn’t—not with the threat of Mrs. Frost’s adoption hanging over
him. No, he had to escape at the first opportunity.
    He’d take one more stab at searching the hidden command center for information on his friends’ whereabouts, and if that failed, well, he’d simply have to bolt. Maybe Max could
avoid cops, LOTUS, and truant officers long enough to find his friends and warn them that LOTUS was plotting against the government. Maybe not. But at least he wouldn’t be sitting around on
his behind, waiting for the ax to fall.
    That decision made, he drifted at last into an uneasy slumber.
    At breakfast the next morning, Max toyed with his eggs and toast. The part of his mind that wasn’t worrying about Vespa—and wondering about that kiss—brimmed with escape plans
and ploys for revisiting the secret chamber. At the same time, he also speculated on what beef LOTUS’s chief had with the government. Tax problems? Passed over for some high honor?
    So lost in thought was he that Max jerked when he realized Mrs. Frost was addressing him.
    “Er, how’s that?” he asked.
    “I said,” Mrs. Frost repeated tartly, “what did you get up to last night?”
    “Up to?” Max suppressed a guilty cringe. “Not much,” he said. “Playing video games, snacking, plotting world domination. The usual.” He carefully avoided
Vespa’s gaze.
    “Really?” said LOTUS’s chief with mock innocence. “A little bird told me you had romance on your mind.”
    Max could feel his ears getting warm. There truly
were
no secrets in this house. “Your bird was confused,” he said. “I, er…”
    The spymaster chuckled. “Can’t say as I blame you. She is lovely, my niece.” Now Vespa blushed and stared at her plate. “But we do have certain standards to uphold in
this family. There will be no hanky-panky under this roof, do I make myself clear?”
    “Auntie!” said Vespa. “We would never—”
    “See to it that you don’t, my girl,” said Mrs. Frost. The white-haired woman leveled her penetrating gaze on Max. “Now then, have you reached a decision about our
new…living arrangement?”
    Bozzini and Vespa both shifted to watch him. Max clenched a hand on his leg under the table. This would require some finesse.
    “Not yet,” he said carefully.