Part 5
I didn't look like a woman applying for a job in a legal office. I looked more like a woman trying to get lucky in a bar, but this was the look the profilers had picked for me, saying they wanted a look that Frankie Mitchell wouldn't approve of-a look that would push her buttons. Clayton had been only too happy to help pick out my 'working' wardrobe. Skirts that flirted with being too short and too tight, blouses that dipped a bit too low in front, heels that made my legs look great but were impossible to walk in. To top it all off, I had several wigs in varying lengths and colors, also. For my interview I was wearing a straight, tight black skirt and a v-necked form fitting red sweater. Clayton decided somewhat gleefully that the long blonde wig was the perfect finishing touch. My look was flamboyant, and it was not designed to make other women like me, especially in a work environment.
I was proud of myself for not wobbling on my three inch red high heels with ankle straps as I approached the building that housed Harm's new office. He had been told by Catherine to expect some job applicants today, but she hadn't told him to expect me. I wasn't sure that was such a good idea, but I wasn't running the operation so I kept my mouth shut. Now more than ever I wanted to be close in case Harm needed my help, so I wasn't going to make waves.
It had been almost two weeks since I had barged into Catherine's office. Two weeks where I had to sit and think about what Harm might be doing in Ellicott City, Maryland. Obviously, I wasn't thrilled with the idea of Harm using his charm on another woman, but my main concern was the emotional impact that this would have on him over time. It wasn't in his nature to be comfortable with deceit and subterfuge, and I couldn't help but feel that he was going to need me to watch his six not just physically but mentally as well before this was all over.
He'd actually started making tentative contact with Frankie Mitchell even before that night that he'd told me goodbye. He'd approached her before he'd opened his law office, asking her questions about the building, scouting out the location, making new neighbor noises. Once he'd moved in, it had been natural for him to stop by her office for conversation several times during the day, or since he was new in town invite her to join him for lunch. He hadn't asked her to do anything after business hours yet. He wanted to take things slow and gain her trust.
Catherine seemed to take a perverse pleasure in keeping me caught up on his progress, almost as if she were testing my ability to stay cool. She briefed me almost daily, getting me ready to go in as his combination receptionist-paralegal assistant, making sure I understood the part I was to play, and though I was impatient to get started I didn't let her know it. I hadn't batted an eye when she told me that Harm's job was to seduce this woman, and I certainly wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of reacting now.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the lobby. The building housed mainly small law offices since it was conveniently located only a few blocks from the courthouse, but I noticed on the lobby's directory that an accounting firm, an insurance agency and a nonprofit charitable organization were located in it also. The one story square was built around a courtyard with offices on only one side of the hallway. Big windows lined the other side and looked out onto a patio area that was filled with tables and chairs. It was just past lunchtime and several people were still sitting outside as I made my way down the sunlit hall in search of number 104-the office of Harry Baldridge, attorney at law.
In my briefings I had been told that Frankie Mitchell's office was around the corner from his in 106. I was anxious to get a glimpse of this mystery woman, but that could wait I told myself as I passed number 100 and then 102. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as I approached his office. I couldn't begin to guess what his reaction was going to be, but I expected him to be at least annoyed if not angry with me. That was too bad. He would just have to get over it, because he was going to be stuck with me until this insane assignment was finished.
I was about to knock on the door when I heard voices coming down the hallway. I peered cautiously around the corner and there he was looking every bit the civilian lawyer in his charcoal gray suit. He was walking in my direction beside a petite woman with pale red hair. She was almost plain at first glance but she had an other-worldly aura about her that made you take a second look. She wore a gauzy beige shapeless dress and her hair was long and floated around her like angel wings as she walked. She was listening intently to Harm as he talked-as if every word he spoke was precious. His hand rested on her back as he escorted her to her office door. She opened it, and he leaned against the door frame and smiled that smile. She answered it with one of her own and in that moment was transformed from plain to beautiful.
My stomach knotted at the sight of him gazing down at her so sweetly. I suddenly felt cheap and clownish in my high heels and low cut sweater, and I hated Clayton and Catherine and the CIA profilers and everyone else who had helped design my part in this mission. I wanted to slink away and find the nearest restroom and scrub the extra make-up from my face, but she chose that moment to notice that I was standing there staring at them.
"Can I help you?" she asked in a cautious tone.
Harm glanced my way and then did a double take when I said, "I'm looking for Harry Baldridge."
He obviously hadn't recognized me at first, but his eyes widened and he straightened and moved away from her before stating neutrally, "I'm Harry Baldridge. Are you here about the job?"
"Yes, I saw the ad in the paper." I smiled my best 'I hope you'll consider hiring me smile', but Ms. Mitchell wasn't impressed. She looked at me disapprovingly, and then turned back to Harm. She seemed bothered by the way he was staring at me, and touched his arm to regain his attention.
"Well, Harry, I know you need to handle this, so I'll talk to you later." She smiled at him, gave me another dismissive glance and disappeared into her office.
He didn't say a word. He just brushed past me and unlocked his office door and then stood back to let me enter. Except for his tightly clenched jaw I would never have known that he was upset. He moved through the outer office and opened another door and waved me inside. I held my head high and gave him a haughty look as I teetered on my spindly heels past him and into the inner office. I collapsed into the first chair I saw and sat silently, determined not to speak until he did.
"What are you doing here, Mac?" He sat down behind his desk and finally spoke in a tightly controlled voice.
"Catherine decided that you could use my help." I said brightly. I wasn't above sharing the blame.
"So you're saying this was her idea?" He scoffed at the notion.
"You knew she was sending someone in to work with you. You're just angry because it's me. And okay, I admit that I forced my way into this project, but you might as well accept it because you know that I'm not going anywhere until it's finished."
Our eyes met and we stared at each other for a full minute without either of us wavering. He took in my stubborn expression and finally let out an exasperated sigh and said with resignation, "I'm not angry, but you shouldn't be here. This is crazy, Mac."
"I promise I won't get in your way, Boss. I'll just blend into the scenery while you're busy seducing the socks off Ms. Mitchell." I smiled gamely and crossed my legs and then tugged at my skirt where it had crawled indecently up my legs.
He noticed my attempt at modesty, arched one eyebrow and openly looked me up and down before commenting, "That's some scenery. So, what's with the outfit?"
I rolled my eyes and said, "Well, according to those in charge of this operation, my blatant attempts to be sexy will dazzle all the men and irritate all the women, and as a result no one will take me seriously. Then while you are busy keeping Ms. Mitchell occupied, I can snoop around and no one will notice. At least that's the way they explained it to me." I tried to sound more confident than I felt about pulling off this look.
"And just how am I supposed to stay focused on seducing the socks off Ms. Mitchell if you are walking around dressed like that?" He got up and walked around the desk and pulled me out of my chair and into his arms. I relaxed for the first time since I'd arrived at the building, and the look on his face was making me feel more confident by the minute.
"Well Mr. Baldridge, I think we are both uniquely qualified for this challenge." I played with his lapels and smoothed my hands across his shoulders.
"Is that right?" He fingered a strand of my blonde wig.
"Absolutely. I've had years of practice watching you seduce other women, while you've had years of practice resisting my obvious charms. This will be just like old times."
"Mac, that's not true-," he started to protest then broke off suddenly before asking, "By the way, what should I be calling you?"
"Good question. My name is Hannah McIntire." I paused for effect and then added, "But you can call me Mac." I grinned at him and pushed out of his arms. "I better get out of here. We don't want the interview to be so long that it seems suspicious."
"Some other applicants are supposed to be coming in just to make things look legitimate, but we still have things we need to discuss." He let me go and walked with me through the outer office and to the door.
"I know." I stopped to face him and added, "I have some instructions from Catherine that I need to go over with you, too."
"Why don't you come to my apartment tonight around six? Do you have my address? It's just down the road."
"As a matter of fact I know exactly where it is, since I'm living in an apartment practically next door to yours."
He looked startled at that bit of news. "You don't think that will look a little suspicious?"
"Not really-since I am sharing mine with my boyfriend."
His expression changed from startled to annoyed. "Your boyfriend? Let me guess. Webb?"
"Actually I'm not sure. Have you noticed that Catherine likes surprises? I was just told that he would make contact tonight, so why don't you come to my place instead--apartment 252. I'm going to go home now, change out of these shoes and then make a trip to the grocery store. If you're nice I'll even cook dinner."
"Okay," he agreed but then added somewhat sourly, "But I'll bet it's Webb."
"Bye, Harry. I'll see you tonight." I patted him on the cheek and then walked out the door. Things had gone better than I'd hoped, and there was an extra sway in my hips as I made my way down the hall. So what if I stumbled over my ridiculous shoes before I had even taken ten steps? I ignored the sound of Harm's smothered laughter and sailed regally out of the building feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
To be continued-
I didn't look like a woman applying for a job in a legal office. I looked more like a woman trying to get lucky in a bar, but this was the look the profilers had picked for me, saying they wanted a look that Frankie Mitchell wouldn't approve of-a look that would push her buttons. Clayton had been only too happy to help pick out my 'working' wardrobe. Skirts that flirted with being too short and too tight, blouses that dipped a bit too low in front, heels that made my legs look great but were impossible to walk in. To top it all off, I had several wigs in varying lengths and colors, also. For my interview I was wearing a straight, tight black skirt and a v-necked form fitting red sweater. Clayton decided somewhat gleefully that the long blonde wig was the perfect finishing touch. My look was flamboyant, and it was not designed to make other women like me, especially in a work environment.
I was proud of myself for not wobbling on my three inch red high heels with ankle straps as I approached the building that housed Harm's new office. He had been told by Catherine to expect some job applicants today, but she hadn't told him to expect me. I wasn't sure that was such a good idea, but I wasn't running the operation so I kept my mouth shut. Now more than ever I wanted to be close in case Harm needed my help, so I wasn't going to make waves.
It had been almost two weeks since I had barged into Catherine's office. Two weeks where I had to sit and think about what Harm might be doing in Ellicott City, Maryland. Obviously, I wasn't thrilled with the idea of Harm using his charm on another woman, but my main concern was the emotional impact that this would have on him over time. It wasn't in his nature to be comfortable with deceit and subterfuge, and I couldn't help but feel that he was going to need me to watch his six not just physically but mentally as well before this was all over.
He'd actually started making tentative contact with Frankie Mitchell even before that night that he'd told me goodbye. He'd approached her before he'd opened his law office, asking her questions about the building, scouting out the location, making new neighbor noises. Once he'd moved in, it had been natural for him to stop by her office for conversation several times during the day, or since he was new in town invite her to join him for lunch. He hadn't asked her to do anything after business hours yet. He wanted to take things slow and gain her trust.
Catherine seemed to take a perverse pleasure in keeping me caught up on his progress, almost as if she were testing my ability to stay cool. She briefed me almost daily, getting me ready to go in as his combination receptionist-paralegal assistant, making sure I understood the part I was to play, and though I was impatient to get started I didn't let her know it. I hadn't batted an eye when she told me that Harm's job was to seduce this woman, and I certainly wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of reacting now.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the lobby. The building housed mainly small law offices since it was conveniently located only a few blocks from the courthouse, but I noticed on the lobby's directory that an accounting firm, an insurance agency and a nonprofit charitable organization were located in it also. The one story square was built around a courtyard with offices on only one side of the hallway. Big windows lined the other side and looked out onto a patio area that was filled with tables and chairs. It was just past lunchtime and several people were still sitting outside as I made my way down the sunlit hall in search of number 104-the office of Harry Baldridge, attorney at law.
In my briefings I had been told that Frankie Mitchell's office was around the corner from his in 106. I was anxious to get a glimpse of this mystery woman, but that could wait I told myself as I passed number 100 and then 102. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as I approached his office. I couldn't begin to guess what his reaction was going to be, but I expected him to be at least annoyed if not angry with me. That was too bad. He would just have to get over it, because he was going to be stuck with me until this insane assignment was finished.
I was about to knock on the door when I heard voices coming down the hallway. I peered cautiously around the corner and there he was looking every bit the civilian lawyer in his charcoal gray suit. He was walking in my direction beside a petite woman with pale red hair. She was almost plain at first glance but she had an other-worldly aura about her that made you take a second look. She wore a gauzy beige shapeless dress and her hair was long and floated around her like angel wings as she walked. She was listening intently to Harm as he talked-as if every word he spoke was precious. His hand rested on her back as he escorted her to her office door. She opened it, and he leaned against the door frame and smiled that smile. She answered it with one of her own and in that moment was transformed from plain to beautiful.
My stomach knotted at the sight of him gazing down at her so sweetly. I suddenly felt cheap and clownish in my high heels and low cut sweater, and I hated Clayton and Catherine and the CIA profilers and everyone else who had helped design my part in this mission. I wanted to slink away and find the nearest restroom and scrub the extra make-up from my face, but she chose that moment to notice that I was standing there staring at them.
"Can I help you?" she asked in a cautious tone.
Harm glanced my way and then did a double take when I said, "I'm looking for Harry Baldridge."
He obviously hadn't recognized me at first, but his eyes widened and he straightened and moved away from her before stating neutrally, "I'm Harry Baldridge. Are you here about the job?"
"Yes, I saw the ad in the paper." I smiled my best 'I hope you'll consider hiring me smile', but Ms. Mitchell wasn't impressed. She looked at me disapprovingly, and then turned back to Harm. She seemed bothered by the way he was staring at me, and touched his arm to regain his attention.
"Well, Harry, I know you need to handle this, so I'll talk to you later." She smiled at him, gave me another dismissive glance and disappeared into her office.
He didn't say a word. He just brushed past me and unlocked his office door and then stood back to let me enter. Except for his tightly clenched jaw I would never have known that he was upset. He moved through the outer office and opened another door and waved me inside. I held my head high and gave him a haughty look as I teetered on my spindly heels past him and into the inner office. I collapsed into the first chair I saw and sat silently, determined not to speak until he did.
"What are you doing here, Mac?" He sat down behind his desk and finally spoke in a tightly controlled voice.
"Catherine decided that you could use my help." I said brightly. I wasn't above sharing the blame.
"So you're saying this was her idea?" He scoffed at the notion.
"You knew she was sending someone in to work with you. You're just angry because it's me. And okay, I admit that I forced my way into this project, but you might as well accept it because you know that I'm not going anywhere until it's finished."
Our eyes met and we stared at each other for a full minute without either of us wavering. He took in my stubborn expression and finally let out an exasperated sigh and said with resignation, "I'm not angry, but you shouldn't be here. This is crazy, Mac."
"I promise I won't get in your way, Boss. I'll just blend into the scenery while you're busy seducing the socks off Ms. Mitchell." I smiled gamely and crossed my legs and then tugged at my skirt where it had crawled indecently up my legs.
He noticed my attempt at modesty, arched one eyebrow and openly looked me up and down before commenting, "That's some scenery. So, what's with the outfit?"
I rolled my eyes and said, "Well, according to those in charge of this operation, my blatant attempts to be sexy will dazzle all the men and irritate all the women, and as a result no one will take me seriously. Then while you are busy keeping Ms. Mitchell occupied, I can snoop around and no one will notice. At least that's the way they explained it to me." I tried to sound more confident than I felt about pulling off this look.
"And just how am I supposed to stay focused on seducing the socks off Ms. Mitchell if you are walking around dressed like that?" He got up and walked around the desk and pulled me out of my chair and into his arms. I relaxed for the first time since I'd arrived at the building, and the look on his face was making me feel more confident by the minute.
"Well Mr. Baldridge, I think we are both uniquely qualified for this challenge." I played with his lapels and smoothed my hands across his shoulders.
"Is that right?" He fingered a strand of my blonde wig.
"Absolutely. I've had years of practice watching you seduce other women, while you've had years of practice resisting my obvious charms. This will be just like old times."
"Mac, that's not true-," he started to protest then broke off suddenly before asking, "By the way, what should I be calling you?"
"Good question. My name is Hannah McIntire." I paused for effect and then added, "But you can call me Mac." I grinned at him and pushed out of his arms. "I better get out of here. We don't want the interview to be so long that it seems suspicious."
"Some other applicants are supposed to be coming in just to make things look legitimate, but we still have things we need to discuss." He let me go and walked with me through the outer office and to the door.
"I know." I stopped to face him and added, "I have some instructions from Catherine that I need to go over with you, too."
"Why don't you come to my apartment tonight around six? Do you have my address? It's just down the road."
"As a matter of fact I know exactly where it is, since I'm living in an apartment practically next door to yours."
He looked startled at that bit of news. "You don't think that will look a little suspicious?"
"Not really-since I am sharing mine with my boyfriend."
His expression changed from startled to annoyed. "Your boyfriend? Let me guess. Webb?"
"Actually I'm not sure. Have you noticed that Catherine likes surprises? I was just told that he would make contact tonight, so why don't you come to my place instead--apartment 252. I'm going to go home now, change out of these shoes and then make a trip to the grocery store. If you're nice I'll even cook dinner."
"Okay," he agreed but then added somewhat sourly, "But I'll bet it's Webb."
"Bye, Harry. I'll see you tonight." I patted him on the cheek and then walked out the door. Things had gone better than I'd hoped, and there was an extra sway in my hips as I made my way down the hall. So what if I stumbled over my ridiculous shoes before I had even taken ten steps? I ignored the sound of Harm's smothered laughter and sailed regally out of the building feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
To be continued-