Free Double Agent by Lisa Phillips

as nice as others. Sabine liked nice things, but this place made her want to take her shoes off at the door.
    They passed a ballroom filled with glitzy people. When Doug cleared his throat, Sabine blinked and hurried to catch up. “Did you grow up here?”
    He shook his head as they climbed. “We moved around a lot—you know, military family and all. When my dad got promoted and assigned to the Pentagon, we stayed. I was sixteen.”
    His voice had cracked. She waited until he was ready to say more.
    “That was the summer my mom died.” Their eyes met. “Her cancer snuck up on all of us, and it was over almost as fast as it had come.”
    “I’m sorry.” What else could she say?
    At least he had a mom for that long. Sabine had neither parent and barely remembered more than the last day they’d all been together, though she’d been nine. That day was still etched into her brain, never to be erased.
    Doug left her in a room that was feminine but not over-the-top, with floor-to-ceiling drapes and a four-poster bed. He walked away muttering about simpering crowds and being choked by his own collar.
    She smiled. Too antsy to rest, despite being exhausted, Sabine decided Doug might need some moral support downstairs. After all, there was a formal dress in her bag.
    She headed for the bathroom.
    * * *
    Fresh from his four-minute shower, Doug walked downstairs still tying the bow tie of his tuxedo. It was an instrument of torture. He really should burn the thing. If his uniform hadn’t been in his closet in Texas where he lived on base, he’d have worn that.
    He smoothed down the front of the jacket, took a deep breath and pushed open the double doors. The place was loud and bright, full of senators, businesspeople and high-ranking military personnel. His father held court at the far end of the room, surrounded by eager ears and fat wallets.
    Doug would rather be upstairs with Sabine. They could have watched a ball game or a movie. He could have taken his dad for a round of golf in the morning. He wasn’t going to tell the old man that, if it hadn’t been for Sabine, Doug probably wouldn’t even be here.
    People turned to look as he crossed the room. Doug refused champagne from more than one waiter with a silver tray, but, despite his size, what probably struck them was the resemblance between father and son. With his dad being a well-known general, it was a wonder Doug didn’t get in more trouble on covert missions. The only difference between them, other than age, was the lighter brown of Doug’s skin from his Caucasian mother.
    He liked that she was still with him, in that way, but he’d rather have her.
    The general looked up as he approached. His father’s dark green jacket gleamed with buttons and medals. His face crinkled and laugh lines emerged on his chocolate-colored skin. “Douglas!”
    The cigar smoke was strong and made his eyes water. Doug smiled while his dad pounded him on the back. “So where is this mystery woman you chased all the way across the country?”
    People around them stopped to look at something.
    “She’s upstairs resting.”
    The music also stopped, and the general’s bushy white eyebrows rose. “Resting, huh?”
    Doug turned around. Sabine was in the doorway, and the room grew still and quiet as people turned to get a look at her in a floor-length dark green dress. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders in a riot of waves and curls. She was beautiful.
    The general clapped him on the back. “Does she know she’s the one?”

SEVEN
    I t was too late for second thoughts. Sabine pasted on a smile and crossed the room. The music started up again, and she waved off a waiter’s offer of champagne. Rarely did she find herself out of her depth, but she felt it here in a roomful of— Was that the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff? Sabine was pretty sure she’d seen him on CNN last week.
    With a polite nod she made her way to where Doug stood with a bald older African-American man