Vaughn's words hang with me long after our meeting is over.
You can't tell them the truth, Sydney.
Sometimes I feel like my whole life is a lie.
Like the moment when I discovered my dad didn't export airplane parts, he was a double agent.
Like the moment I found out that SD-6 was not the CIA, but my worst enemy.
Like the moment I realized my mother, the devoted wife and literature teacher, was actually a KGB assassin.
But never more so than when my friends ask me the usual questions, like, "How was your trip? How was work?"
And for the briefest nanosecond, I'm tempted to tell the truth, unraveling the endless web of lies I've been forced to live in.
There are no questions like that when I enter my apartment today. It's empty. I toss my keys on the counter, thumb through the mail that's there, then head to my room.
I change clothes, examining every single article carefully. I want to be sure it's free from tags, bugs or listening devices of any kind before I deem it ready to wear. It's a habit I've developed over the years as a spy, I usually think nothing of it, but today I'm doubly cautious.
A vague feeling sweeps through me. I stand alert, in the middle of my room, trying to figure out why I suddenly feel like something's amiss. There's nothing material out of place, but still I've got that impression. It's like that nagging feeling that tugs at the back of your mind when you know you've forgotten something.
But what?
Perhaps it's not what, but who. Has someone been in my room?
I'd never leave any of my spy gear here if I thought someone might see it. But Francie's no snoop and Will--well, snoopiness is part of his job description. But he wouldn't--
Would he?
My luggage springs to mind. I fly across the room, dig past several items I've deliberately buried it under, and give my suitcases a once over. No, everything's just where it should be. Yes, the incriminating luggage tags I've removed for safekeeping are tucked neatly away inside and out of sight. Shaking my head over my foolishness, I push the luggage back and settle the items back in place.
I've been on edge all day. False alarm.
Seven is drawing rapidly closer. Finished getting ready, I grab my keys and head out.
Whether she knows it or not, the restaurant is a brilliant idea on Francie's part. It's a brand new place just getting over the stages of its grand opening. Not like our usual hangouts but that's a good thing. It means no one would expect to find me here and I am more vigilant than ever to be certain I bring along no unwanted tails. After I've parked, I survey the entryway of the building and its surrounding areas from afar, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.
Nothing sparks my suspicions, but I walk by the building twice before I allow myself to enter.
A brief conversation with the hostess reveals that Francie and Will have already arrived.
I start in the direction of their table, catching the sound of Francie's laughter before I round a bend and see my two friends.
My two friends.
I see them sitting in a corner booth by the wall.
My two friends who for some unknown reason were following me today.
I shake away the thought and do my best to look unconcerned. Cheerful even. As if I have no idea that hours earlier my friends were behaving like....like....
Like spies.
I'm close enough to hear what they're saying.
"...and then this penguin suit guy backs up, so busy raving about how much he disliked the 'limited choice of entrees' that he puts his whole elbow smack dab in the banana cream. What a mess!"
As Francie reaches the climax of her catering story, Will launches into a hearty laugh, clutching the edge of the table to avoid spilling the drink in front of him. "That's rich! I mean, really rich!"
Neither of them notices my approach until I'm right beside the table.
"Sydney!" Will's facing my way, so he spots me first and scoots over to make room for me in the booth.
"Hey, Syd. Glad you made it!" Francie smiles at me across the table as I settle into the seat beside Will.
I can't help smiling at Francie's remark. Knowing me, my friends are never quite sure I'm not going to cancel an invitation at the last minute. "Yeah. Me too." I unwrap the napkin from my silverware. "What's that you're having? Looks good."
"Waldorf salad," Francie supplies. "Not half bad. Wanna bite?"
"Sure."
Will looks at me, sheepishly. "We were waiting for you to order."
"Oh really?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow. Beside his drink, there's a soup bowl in front of Will, already emptied of half its contents, with the tell tale spoon still resting on Will's napkin.
"Yeah," says Will. "I mean, we would have waited, we were but--"
Francie breaks in, helpfully. "Well, then I ordered the salad and the soup came with it."
"It smelled good." Will waves a menu at a passing waitress. "Sandy, we're ready to order now."
A few minutes later, Sandy has been dispatched with all of our orders.
Waiting for our meals to come, I look about the restaurant. The early diners are starting to finish their meals, and the late-night diners have not yet begun to arrive. The booth just behind us is empty. There's little danger of our conversation being overheard.
Only we aren't talking about anything.
It grows quiet. Too quiet.
Francie's busy attacking her salad with a vengeance. Her fork spears a dark green leaf, followed by another, and I'll doubt there'll be anything left on the plate by the time our other orders arrive.
"Uh, how was work?" Will asks.
I shrug, dismissively. "Besides a couple of things that came up unexpectedly, it was the usual." I realize we might go all the way through dinner before we'll ever reach the real reason why we've come here. I can't stand the wait any longer. I need answers. "So," I begin in as casual a tone as I can muster though I feel like I'm on the verge of jumping out of my skin. "You guys said there was something you wanted to talk about. What is it?"
There is an instant change in the climate.
Francie can't look me in the eye, but I feel Will's gaze boring into the side of my head with an intensity that's usually saved for his toughest interviews.
There's a long pause.
"Sydney," Will begins suddenly. The pain and confusion in his voice are evident. "We think you're hiding something from us. We're your friends. We deserve to know what it is."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I am going to finish this story soon. Sorry for the intervals in posting between chapters. And thanks for the comments for my first writing trip in spydom!