Special Agent Nancy 'Iris' Drew sighed as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing an evening gown, which by the label would probably have cost the CIA quite a bit of money, she thought wryly. It was conservatively cut, showing just a hint of her cleavage and with a slit that came only up to just above her knees. But it clung lovingly to her body, emphasizing the curve of her breasts, her slim toned waist, the slender rounded hips and the length of her legs. It was simple and elegant, yet breathtakingly sensual, the turquoise color bringing out the sparkle in her bright blue eyes. Her red-gold hair was piled on top of her head in an intricate knot, the single curl escaping to lie on her shoulder looking tantalizingly seductive. A pair of simple diamond drop earrings adorned her ears with the matching necklace around her throat. She was dressed with class, yet dressed for seduction.
She fingered the necklace and sighed again. It had been a gift from her dad on her previous birthday. It had also been the last time she had seen him, six months back, in spite of her father's repeated urgings to come home when she had the time. She hadn't had the time, she had told herself, even as she knew that hadn't been the entire reason. Even if she hated to admit it to herself, she knew that part of the reason was because of Ned and the fact that he was getting married again in a few weeks time.
She wasn't upset about him getting married; it was more than 2 years since their divorce, and if she was honest with herself, it had been over long before that. As she fell into the familiar pattern of thought, she realized that she still hadn't forgiven herself entirely for accepting his proposal in the first place. A telling sign indeed when one accepts an engagement ring signifying one of the most important moments of one's life with the same amount of pleasure one accepts a birthday gift from a friend, she thought with a touch of guilt and self-recrimination. And even more telling when you are considerably more excited about investigating a new mystery than planning your own wedding!
But they had both clung on to the familiarity of each other for so long that both of them had forgotten the very different things they had wanted from life. Or they had chosen to forget, which was quite easy when they were living separate lives. In hindsight, Nancy couldn't believe they had ignored the main bone of contention between them so completely.
Ned had always been a home-and-hearth kind of guy, with a steady job, a loving wife, kids; whereas Nancy had always known that once she graduated with a degree in criminal psychology, she would pursue her passion for detective work. They had married right after she got out of college and in the few months before her marriage she had been content working in her dad's office, helping him with cases. Then right after their honeymoon, the cocoon she had wrapped around herself unraveled when they had come back to find a letter for Nancy from the CIA.
The result was the first of their many fights, which had ended in Ned conceding with a bad grace, and Nancy joining the CIA. Six months later, they were barely talking to each other, and one and half years after that they were divorced. It had actually been a relief when it was over, for the both of them. Ned, because he would be free from the worrying and the distance and the secrets that were an integral part of her job and Nancy, because she could now work without the guilt and the feeling of being held back.
Nancy shook her head, exasperated with herself for bringing up memories best left buried and forgotten. For the most part, she had reconciled herself with her decisions and consequences of that period of her life and moved on. The residual feelings of guilt and regret were perfectly natural and while she mourned the loss of the comfort and friendship associated with having Ned in her life, she never regretted her decision to separate from him.
No, it was not Ned she was upset about. From what she had heard, Tamara was very nice and perfect for him. She was genuinely glad he had found someone steady, someone with the same goals and interests in life, someone who would love him as he deserved to be loved. She truly was happy for him. It was just herself she wasn't that happy for. For all the satisfaction and sense of validation her job gave her, it was hard not to think of her rather dismal personal life when everyone around her was happily married or engaged to be married. George was a proud mother and adored by her husband Rick, whom she had met at the sports academy where she worked as a fitness instructor. Bess was engaged to a Broadway director, and was getting married in a few months. All her college friends were settled and content with their significant other.
And here she was, twenty-six years old, already divorced and alone. And it had never been brought home to her more clearly, than when she had walked into her apartment a week ago, getting back after a tough and not entirely successful mission in Bogota. She had seen at the top of her mail, the wedding invitation from Ned; her answering machine had backed up with messages but she could still remember the one from Bess, her voice high and excited as she informed Nancy of her engagement while simultaneously apologizing for doing it over the answering machine. Then there had been the mail from her college organizing an alumni meet, inviting her along with her 'guest'. And Nancy had looked around her Spartan apartment, at the stark impersonal décor, into the empty refrigerator and freezer containing a few frozen meals, and had felt an inexplicable wave of depression.
It wasn't the marriage part she envied; after all, hers had been a perfect disaster, but the companionship of another person. She loved her job, lived for the adrenaline surges and the danger and the vindication it gave her to see justice meted out, but it was often a lonely job. It meant that the chances of having long-term relationships were close to nil. Men outside the agency were too intimidated by her confidence and independence, and with those that weren't, the confidentiality implicit in her job put a serious crimp on personal conversation beyond the first date. Without honesty serious relationships were out of the question and considering that she didn't care for the other kind, she hadn't been on a date with a regular person in more than six months.
She tried dating within the agency, but she learned quickly that men inside the agency belonged to two categories. They were either married or male chauvinists who treated her with far less respect than she knew she deserved. And after a couple of failed dates and the resultant awkwardness between the other agents at her office, she realized that there was a good reason business was rarely mixed with pleasure, especially in a workplace dominated by men with large yet fragile egos. She hadn't found a single man who could give her what she wanted; a mind that respected and challenged hers and a heart that understood and accepted her passion. She yearned for a man who accepted her as an equal in all respects, and with whom she could share her every facet without reserve because she knew he loved her for being herself, not despite it.
Frank. The name slid into her mind without conscious intent and she started abruptly from her musings. She stared into the mirror and saw instead a handsome, intelligent face with deep, intense brown eyes. I must be feeling particularly maudlin tonight if I'm thinking of him now, when I haven't thought about him in years, she mused. She had last seen him nearly eight years ago, and hadn't heard from him in five, ever since his letter containing his best wishes for her marriage.
They had lost touch over the years in college, initially because of Ned's jealousy, and later because their own lives had intruded. With their accidental meetings during cases drastically reduced, their communication dwindled from weekly conversations to the occasional email on birthdays. His letter of congratulations on her engagement was proof of that; polite, almost formal, as if they were mere acquaintances instead of two people who had once been very close friends with the same interests and matching mindsets.
Very close friends who had done their utmost to ignore the powerful attraction between them. She had been conscious of a slight pang when she read his congratulations, but by then, their lives were too far apart. She was getting married and settling in Chicago; he had finished his degree in electronics and was apparently working for a software firm in California. With a last twinge of regret, she had put his letter away and closed that chapter of her life from her mind.
Until now. She wondered why she had suddenly thought about him, and with the ease of long practice, she ignored the whisperings of her mind that once he had matched all the characteristics of her mythical perfect man. She shook her head impatiently at her fanciful thoughts. She didn't even know if he was married or not, though she found it unlikely that someone like him would remain unclaimed for long. When she had last heard from Joe he wasn't; but then, she hadn't heard from Joe either in years, though the less intense camaraderie between them had made it easier to keep in touch. But they had lost contact all the same after a while, so she had no idea what either brother was doing. She gave a wistful sigh as she remembered those golden times when life had seemed so much simpler, and when she had still been naïve enough to think that she could have it all.
A sharp knock at her door shook her out of her woolgathering. With a deep breath, she straightened and glared defiantly at the mirror. Now was not the time to ponder on what-ifs and if-onlys. She couldn't afford to waste time wallowing in the past or feeling sorry for herself. She had a job to do. When it was over she would start thinking seriously about her life and the implications of thinking about Frank Hardy again but for now she needed to block her personal life from her thoughts. With a firm decisive nod and a last look in the mirror to check if everything was in place, she swept out of the room.
Author's Note:
I do have a definite plot line in my head and a few chapters out already, so chances of my completing this story are pretty high (especially since I know how much it bothers me when I come across an incomplete story that I really want to finish!). I aim to get out one chapter a week, but if there are unexpected delays, then bear with me. And if I do decide to discontinue the story, then I will be sure to let you know and not leave you hanging in suspense. Enjoy and do review if you have the time!