Chapter 15: The Second Antonia

Francine sipped a cup of coffee and enjoyed a chocolate éclair. Just one wouldn't ruin her waistline. She ate it slowly to make it last.

Besides the gift shop, the hotel also featured a fabulous restaurant and café. After Lee had left her and taken Amanda off to talk to Anton, Francine called the Agency from one of the phones in the hotel lobby, checked back to make sure that Adrian Dalca was still on the front desk (he was), and bought her little treat to enjoy while she kept her eyes open. It also gave her an excuse for lingering in the lobby.

So far, watching Adrian was one big yawn. Every once in awhile, a man in a suit or a woman in a fashionable dress would come to check in or check out or ask a question, but no one stood out or acted suspicious. There was no sign of the two mysterious men Lee had seen, either. At one point, a group of workmen in blue uniforms that said "Potomac Renovations" on them in white letters attempted to pass through the lobby, but they were quickly ushered back toward the service entrance. That was the most exciting thing Francine had seen so far.

"They must be new," Francine thought. "Workmen with paint stains on their clothes wouldn't be allowed to hang around the lobby of a hotel like this."

In another half hour, she was supposed to call Billy back and see if the Agency computers had turned up anything on Adrian Dalca or any important guests staying at the hotel. If there wasn't anything significant, eating the éclair might be the most useful thing Francine had done with her day so far.

Lee wasn't usually the kind to go off on wild goose chases, but privately, Francine wondered if his relationship with Amanda had done something to his mind. For awhile, she'd actually believed Amanda when it seemed like her relationship with Lee had ended. Francine had truly believed that Scarecrow wasn't the type to settle down ever with anyone. But, she had to admit things had been different with Amanda.

When people around the Agency found out that Amanda had fainted at work, a few of the male agents quietly nudged each other and made jokes about pregnancy and Scarecrow's sins finally catching up with him, but very few people laughed. Francine hadn't really believed the pregnancy rumors, not so much because of Lee but because of Amanda. A woman who already had two kids wasn't likely to be careless enough to have another one in a fling with a co-worker. But, then, there was that ring Lee was wearing.

That was the one thing that had really blown her over. She'd suggested that the ring was part of an assignment partly to see Lee's reaction. Even after years of controlling himself in front of enemy agents, there had been that split second of panic that told her everything she needed to know.

At first, she'd been hurt. They'd been friends for so long, how could he do something like this and not even let on to her? But, she'd controlled herself. When Lee left after his talk with Billy, Francine's first instinct was to talk to Billy herself and demand that he tell her everything, but she hadn't done that, either. Maybe it wasn't just Lee changing. Maybe she'd changed, too.

Her own romance in the last year had made her more aware of how private feelings and professionalism could clash. So far, she was pleased with the way she was handling herself. She wasn't sure exactly where her relationship was heading, but for once, she felt content to let it lead her wherever it was likely to go.

In the past, she realized that she'd tried too hard to control everything. Being out of control often scared her. She even kept up on astrology to avoid any nasty surprises. But, not all surprises were nasty. Her new romance had come as a surprise, even to her, but it all felt so natural and comfortable that she didn't even want to check her horoscope about it anymore. For once, she didn't care what it had to say.

That was probably what it was with Lee and Amanda, she thought, licking a dot of chocolate off of her fingertip. When you'd made up your mind about the future yourself, you didn't want to ask anybody, not your friends, not your family, not even the stars. And, Francine could see the problems for Lee and Amanda career-wise. After all the ribbing she'd given them since Amanda joined the Agency, she was surprised to realize that she'd be sorry to see Amanda go.

Billy was still insisting that Amanda had only had the flu, and maybe that's all it really was. She'd certainly seemed alright when Francine had met her earlier that day. But, Francine had never been pregnant and had to admit that she couldn't really tell if Amanda was or not. If she was, it was the end of her career as a field agent. Francine had seen other female agents taken out of the field when they got pregnant, intended or otherwise. None of them ever returned to the field.

It wasn't exactly the kind of life for a mother with young children: long hours, unpredictable schedules, not to mention the risks of dealing in espionage. The few mothers who returned to the Agency at all were either in the steno pool or at some sort of relatively safe desk job in a department like accounting, personnel, or internal affairs. Francine could count the number of working mothers she knew on her fingers, and even then, there were fingers left over.

In the end, Francine supposed, changes were inevitable. None of them were getting any younger, and life was moving on. That thought used to worry her, but not so much anymore. The job kind of conditioned people to expect nasty surprises around every corner, but sometimes, when you just sat back and observed, life could pleasantly surprise you, too.

Such it was that, as Francine took the last bite of her delicious éclair, she was able to witness something that shed light on the situation. She could hardly have missed it since the entourage that came through the front doors of the hotel wasn't trying to be quiet at all.

There were men in dignified black suits and women in exquisitely tailored dresses. That was hardly unusual for this setting. But, Francine recognized the language they were all speaking: Romanian.

Her Romanian wasn't good enough to discern anything from the babble of voices from the group, but everyone seemed to be in a festive mood. Everyone, that is, except for the one dressed the most festively, the only child among them. She looked bored and tired. She wasn't a small child. She looked like she was probably in her early teens, but she was still young enough to be bored with the adults' conversation.

Francine didn't normally notice children much, but the girl stood out, not only because she was the only child and the only person in the group who didn't seem happy, but because of her outfit. The girl wore a beautifully embroidered vest over a white blouse with a bright red skirt. Francine had seen similar outfits when she had once had to attend a cultural festival at the Romanian embassy.

Relations between Romania and the U.S. had been awkward for years. Although Romania still held Most Favored Nation status with U.S., there had been regular calls in Congress to revoke that status over human rights issues. Recently, the Romanian embassy had made attempts to improve relations with the U.S. through cultural activities. Few people in Washington could resist the pleasant sight of children in folk costumes dancing to traditional music. Personally, Francine's heart strings were tugged more by the presence of fine chocolate, but to each their own.

Something about the appearance of this unhappy young girl did touch Francine, and the presence of a large group of Romanians in this hotel raised her suspicions. Francine watched as the young girl drifted slowly away from the adults and went to stand by the window to the lobby gift shop. She was staring at a small display of jewelry. Moving slowly, Francine abandoned her cup of coffee to join her.

"They're pretty, aren't they?" Francine said, commenting on the jewelry the girl was looking at. She said it in Romanian.

The jumped at Francine's voice and looked surprised. "You speak Romanian?" the girl asked.

"Oh, yes," Francine said. She had already decided on her cover story. "I'm a translator for the Foreign Service. My name is Francine." She only hoped that this conversation wouldn't exhaust her language skills. It had been a long time she since had last spoken Romanian. "I speak several languages. I saw your costume and knew you were Romanian. Are you a dancer?"

"Yes," the girl said. "I mean, I take dance lessons at home. I had to dance at a festival today."

"At the embassy?"

The girl nodded. "How did you know?"

"I've been to festivals at the embassy before. Did you have fun?"

Francine could have guessed the answer even before the girl gave an unenthusiastic shrug.

"Today is my birthday," the girl said sadly. "I wish I could have been with my friends instead."

"Oh, well, let me wish you happy birthday!" Francine said. "How old are you now?"

"Fourteen."

"If it makes you feel any better, not many fourteen-year-olds get to travel to other countries."

The girl didn't seem too excited about that, either. Francine thought she could see tears at the corners of the girl's eyes. "I don't have any friends here. I thought if I came, I could spend my birthday with my father. But, he talks to everyone else, not me!"

The girl turned and looked at the jewelry again. One of the bracelets seemed to fascinate her, a small silver one with round pieces of turquoise. It was light and beautiful and looked like just the thing for a young girl's wrist. Francine wondered if she'd received any birthday presents from her father yet.

Francine understood the girl's feelings. When she was young, her father was always busy with business, too. But, one thing he'd never forgotten was her birthday. Even when she was at boarding school, there would be a present from him. Of course, it was usually something practical, like a new calculator, a wooden pen set with her name carved into it, or more books to help her studies. The more fanciful things that a girl really wanted for her birthday came from her mother.

"Men can be like that," Francine said sympathetically. "They don't always understand what's important to a girl. Where is your father now?"

"Over there."

The girl pointed to one of the men in the identical black suits. But, this wasn't just another embassy flunky. Francine recognized him. Now, she really believed that Lee had a right to be concerned.

"You know what you should do?" Francine said to the girl. "Go back to him and talk to him. I don't think that he's completely forgotten your birthday, but men sometimes get distracted. It helps to give them little reminders. You could ask him to have pastries with you in the café for your birthday. I just tried an éclair, and they're great."

"He looks busy," the girl said doubtfully.

"Only because those people just walked up and started talking to him," Francine said. "So, you go up and do the same. Be bold! It's your birthday! Tell everyone that."

"I could try," the girl said shyly.

"You do that . . . I forgot to ask your name," Francine said.

"Antonia."

There was a coincidence, Francine thought.

"You go up and talk to them, Antonia. Ask them to wish you a happy birthday."

The girl went. Francine watched long enough to see her father acknowledge her. The adults around her smiled as she spoke, and a couple of them shook hands with her, offering birthday congratulations. Antonia's father put an arm around her, smiling proudly. She was going to be alright.

Francine hurried away before the girl could say anything about her. She had to make a phone call to the Agency, and in spite of young Antonia's friendliness, her father was the last person Francine wanted noticing her.

As she passed by the front desk, she noticed that Adrian Dalca had suddenly disappeared. Francine looked around for him. Did he go on break or was he hiding for some reason?

She finally spotted him in a corner of the lobby, far away from the Romanian group. He'd been cornered by an elderly lady who seemed to be complaining about something. Francine had to walk past them to get to the hallway with the public telephones, so she paused to listen as she passed.

"I understand the noises from the renovations during the day," the lady was saying, "but now they've started making noises at night, too. What is going on on the fifth floor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Adrian said. "They're just repairing and redecorating a few of the rooms. It won't be much longer."

"It's been for the entire week I've been here, and they're still not done?" the lady said. "Are they so behind schedule that they have to work at night, too?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't know why they were there so late, but it won't happen again."

"And one of them did something that messed with the thermostat. It was freezing in my room last night! It took him two hours to fix it. Why doesn't the hotel maintenance staff handle these things?"

Good question, thought Francine. As she hurried on to find a telephone, she made a mental note to check out the fifth floor.