Free Eggsecutive Orders by Julie Hyzy Page B

the kitchen, Mom and Nana were waiting expectantly.
    “We’re meeting for coffee,” I said.
    “He doesn’t want to come up here?”
    “Busy day. He’s got to get to work,” I explained. Being part of the Presidential Protective Detail—the elite of the Secret Service—meant that more often than not, our relationship came second to his schedule. I was used to it. Often, my responsibilities took precedence over our relationship, too. That might change over time; it might not. “He only has an hour or so.”
    “As long as we’re not holding you back,” Mom said.
    I put my arm around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You could never hold me back.”
     
     
    Tom was already at the restaurant when I arrived. We’d been coming to this out-of-the way place almost since we’d started seeing one another. Although it came up short in romantic inspiration, Froggie’s offered all-day breakfast and endless cups of coffee, served by a staff that still hand-wrote receipts and called customers “hon.”
    We settled ourselves in an aqua vinyl booth, a framed photo of artfully arranged scrambled eggs on the wall next to us. “You hungry?” I asked.
    Tom pushed the laminated menu away with a grimace. “Nah.”
    “Just coffee,” I said to the waitress who appeared at our table.
    “You got it.” She turned both our mugs upright, poured, and collected our menus.
    “So, what’s up?” I asked when she was gone.
    Tom stared down at the dark brew in his mug, like the coffee had said something nasty to him.
    Uh-oh, I thought. I didn’t like the feel of this. The look on his face made my heart pound faster, and my neck sweat. I thought if I came up with a witty comment I might relieve the tension, change the subject. But I couldn’t come up with anything.
    In the three heartbeats it took him to raise his eyes again, I thought how odd it was that I’d been singing his praises yesterday, so confident that his helping my mom and nana was proof he was willing to take our relationship to a new level. I was so sure we were moving forward. And now it felt more like he was about to break up with me.
    “This is going to be hard, Ollie.”
    I didn’t think my heart could stand it another moment. It banged so relentlessly I put a hand to my chest to keep Tom from hearing it thud. What had happened? What had changed since yesterday? His eyes provided no clue.
    “What’s going to be hard?” I managed to ask. My voice cracked. I hoped he didn’t notice.
    He opened a little creamer and poured its contents into the mug. I kept mine black because I didn’t trust my hand not to shake when I grabbed a creamer for myself. I swallowed, my throat starchy-dry. “What are you trying to tell me?”
    His brow furrowed and he stared down at the coffee again. Neither of us had taken a sip yet, and when the waitress breezed by with pot in hand, she didn’t even slow at our table.
    “Craig,” he said.
    “Craig?” My heart skipped. Had I misheard him? “Craig Sanderson?”
    He nodded.
    “What does Craig have to do with us?”
    “Us?” Tom looked up. “Nothing.”
    Now I was confused. “Explain.”
    “Craig put me on this Minkus death investigation.”
    “That’s a bad thing?”
    “We’ve all been assigned a specific angle.”
    I waited.
    “He’s assigned me to you.”
    I didn’t understand why Tom was so upset. “You know I didn’t do it, right?”
    That got the first smile of the day. “Of course.”
    “Well then, your job is done. Whatever you need from me, you’ve got. I’m going to be the most cooperative subject you’ve ever known.”
    As I spoke, my smile grew. Tom’s didn’t. “You don’t see the problem, do you?”
    I shook my head.
    “Craig has made me responsible for keeping you out of the investigation.”
    “That doesn’t make sense. If they think Minkus died because of something I served him, then I’m part of this investigation already. How can he keep me out of it?”
    “Okay, maybe I