Bulletproof Mascara: A Novel (42 page)

Mr. Merrivel laughed. “But you got it figured out eventually.”

“Yeah, eventually. But first I messed it all up.”

“Nikki, I’m pretty sure that if you’d messed it all up you’d be dead.”

“Mph,” snorted Nikki, and she stared glumly at the passing scenery.

“I heard you got the bad guy, though,” Mr. M said brightly.

“Z’ev got him,” Nikki said. “I just threw a piano down the stairs.”

“Who’s Z’ev?”

“The CIA agent,” Nikki mumbled, blushing slightly.

“Oh ho! Now we’re getting to the good stuff. Is he—dang it—what did that girl on the TV call them the other day? Oh yeah. Is he a hottie?”

Nikki laughed. “He is kind of hot, yes. And please don’t say ‘hottie.’ It’s just not you.”

“You don’t think I can pull off ‘hottie’? Hmm, probably true. Very well, but will the young man be calling at some point?”

“I don’t see how,” Nikki said, falling once more into gloom. “He’s working in Thailand, and I’m here mostly. And,” she added
reflectively, “it’s probably better considering the kind of work we do. I mean, how long could I pull off the ‘I just happened to be passing by’ routine?”

“But did you give him your phone number?”

“I . . . no,” Nikki said, suddenly stricken by that horrible realization.

“Well, if he’s any sort of decent CIA agent, he’ll find you.”

“I don’t think so, Mr. M.” Nikki sighed.

“We’ll see,” said Mr. M with a confidence that Nikki couldn’t help feeling was entirely misplaced. “They wanted to see you as soon as you got in,” he said, changing the subject. “So I’m taking you directly to the office.”

“OK,” Nikki said. “I guess it is better to get fired right away.”

“Nikki, they are not going to fire you,” Mr. M said with exasperation.

“Dr. Hastings does not seem like the kind of person to let circumventing her authority and ignoring her commands go by without comment,” said Nikki.

“It’s not over until the fat lady sings,” said Mr. Merrivel. “Now stop being a Gloomy Gus and find me some good tunes on the radio.”

Nikki fiddled with the radio settings until she found the oldies station. Soon they were wondering if you were lonesome tonight, giving Elvis cheerful accompaniment. As they pulled up to the front of the sparkling Carrie Mae offices, Nikki felt the good mood that Mr. M had spun dissipate, even as the wheels stopped turning.

“Leave your bag here,” Mr. Merrivel said as she opened the door. “I’ll bring it back to the house, and you can stay with me and Mrs. M until you find a place of your own.”

“You really don’t have to,” began Nikki, but he waved her silent.

“You’re not getting fired, and you’ll need a place to stay.”

Nikki looked into Mr. Merrivel’s cheerful but determined face and gave in. It was hard to argue with that kind of kindness.

She squared her shoulders and marched into the lobby. It had the same sparkling, just-bleached appearance as the last time. But this time she noticed that a sense of calm presided over the atmosphere. Certainly the place was busy, but it was a beehive sort of busy, a well-organized swirl of happy workers. Nikki felt a swell of envy. She would have liked to have been a part of this hive.

She pushed the button for an elevator and the doors slid open almost immediately, revealing Rachel White. Her frizzy blond hair was being held in place with pencils.

“You used the Anastasia?” asked Rachel excitedly. “How did it work?”

“Well, I’m still here,” Nikki said, without enthusiasm.

“You were shot? From what kind of distance? The report was less than specific.”

“I don’t know, about twenty feet,” Nikki estimated impatiently.

“It’s a new construction process. Was there bruising?”

“I’ll send you pictures,” said Nikki sourly.

“Really? That would be great!”

“Uh-huh,” Nikki said, edging into the elevator.

“Are you on your way up?”

“They want to see me,” she answered glumly.

“Yeah, she’s interviewing everyone,” Rachel said, stepping out of the elevator. “I’ll let you get up there. Have fun!” Rachel waved cheerfully as the doors closed.

Left alone in the empty elevator, Nikki felt a moment of panic as she tried to remember what to do next. Eventually she pushed the button for the top floor, and when the elevator stopped she picked up the phone and uttered the password for the week. Jane
had e-mailed it to her before she left Thailand and Nikki had puzzled over it all the way to her Narita connection. In the end she’d found a bookstore in the airport and bought a copy of
Alice in Wonderland.

Don’t let him know she liked them best,

For this must ever be

A secret kept from all the rest,

Between yourself and me.

It was an obscure quote, and much like Alice, Nikki would have given a sixpence to have it explained to her. She was still pondering it when the doors opened. Jane was waiting for her.

She clapped her hands together and bounced up and down excitedly. “Nikki!” she squeaked, rushing forward to hug her. Nikki returned the hug somewhat awkwardly, feeling small scabs crack and bruises protest. “It’s so good to see you. I’m so glad you’re not dead!”

“Me, too,” Nikki agreed fervently.

“Come on into the conference room.” Jane began to speed-walk through the corridors. Nikki followed at a trot. “You know, if I’d known about Val being a double agent and everything I would have told you, right?”

“Uh, sure,” Nikki agreed.

“Oh, and he’s CIA, by the way.”

“What?” Nikki asked, trying to keep up.

“The guy! You know, your boyfriend? I know you probably figured it out anyway, but I finally broke his cover story while you were on the plane home. He’s definitely CIA.”

“I kind of figured,” Nikki said. “And he’s not my boyfriend,” she added halfheartedly.

“And if I’d known Dr. Hastings had figured it out, I would have told you first thing, if I could have,” Jane said, switching topics as she turned a corner.

“Yeah. Of course,” Nikki agreed, not knowing what else to say and puzzled by Jane’s comment.

“I did the best I could by sending Ellen and Jenny to Mrs. Merrivel.” Jane seemed anxious to clear things up, but she was only making Nikki more confused.

“Wait, Jane,” Nikki said, following her into a book-lined conference room. “What happened while I was in Thailand?”

“Dr. Hastings was found to have been in dereliction of duty and was relieved of her position,” said Mrs. Merrivel, looking up from the documents spread out in front of her on the conference table. She tucked her papers into a folder as Nikki entered.

“Mrs. Merrivel warned her about Val, but Dr. Hastings tried to cover it up instead of acting on it. That’s why she kept piling work on me. She didn’t want me to delve too closely into Val’s case.”

“She was hoping that Val would return of her own accord. Clearly that faith was misplaced,” Mrs. Merrivel said coolly.

“And then Mrs. M had to come in and put the smack down,” Jane said, triumphantly miming a WWF-class elbow.

“Well, let’s just say I’m running the West Coast branch at the moment,” Mrs. Merrivel said, smiling in bemusement at Jane’s antics.

“Oh,” Nikki said, unable to think of anything else. “That’s good?”

“I like to think so,” Mrs. Merrivel said. “Now, dear, why don’t you take a seat? You’re looking a little bit worse for wear.”

“I came straight from the airport,” Nikki said.

“Ick. Just driving by the airport makes me want a facial,” Jane said. Nikki and Mrs. M stared at Jane, who blushed. “Well, not
that I do, but honestly that place puts ten years on your skin—the fumes, the horrible lighting, and the recycled air . . .”

“True,” agreed Mrs. Merrivel, and Nikki nodded. There was another pause while everyone tried to figure out how to get the conversation back to where it had been.

“I spoke to Laura this morning,” said Mrs. M. “She spoke very highly of your efforts in Bangkok.”

“She did?” Nikki asked, sounding dubious. “That was, uh, very nice of her.”

“I take it you don’t think your trip to Thailand was very successful?” Mrs. M asked, jogging her stack of papers with a firm thwack against the tabletop.

“It could have gone better,” answered Nikki.

“You weren’t instrumental in helping the Thai government apprehend Jirair Sarkassian?”

“Well, yeah, I mean I guess the piano is an instrument.” Mrs. M smiled, and Nikki continued. “But I didn’t bring in Val.”

“Nikki, it isn’t as though we could have brought Val to trial. And we certainly couldn’t have allowed her to fall into the hands of any other intelligence agencies. She was a traitor and a threat to our organization.”

Nikki swallowed hard, realizing what Mrs. Merrivel meant. “Even if I’d captured her, you would have killed her?”

“Yes. It’s not something we’re proud of, but it’s a necessity.”

“Well, I’m sure that makes Val feel all better,” said Nikki bitterly.

“If Val had cared at all, she wouldn’t have betrayed us in the first place. It’s unfortunate, really. She was such a good agent, and now we’ll have to remove her name from the ‘Consultants of Note’ plaque.” Mrs. Merrivel shook her head sadly, but there was a cement hardness to her tone that made Nikki doubt her sincerity.

“But what’s done is done,” Mrs. Merrivel continued. “And I’m glad it’s done. We will discuss matters after your reports and debriefing are concluded, but initial reports indicate that you did fairly well on your first assignment. At this time we would like to discuss further options with Carrie Mae.”

Nikki nodded hesitantly, not sure what this was leading up to, but fearful that she’d end up back on the real front lines—selling lipsticks that had no explosive properties whatsoever. She just wasn’t sure she was tough enough for that.

“Now, as you know, usually after the first assignment, agents are asked to join the company on either a full-time or a per-contract basis. We would like you to join full time. I’m thinking I would like to put you in charge of a new quick-response team I’m forming. Would you be interested in something like that?”

“I guess so,” said Nikki. As usual when dealing with Mrs. Merrivel, her brain felt fuzzy.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Merrivel said. She produced a contract from a folder. “This is simply an extension of your first contract, and all you have to do is sign at the bottom.”

She offered Nikki an elegant black-and-gold pen. Nikki took the pen, but looked around the room instead of at the contract. Mrs. M was wearing a cream pantsuit with rubies, and Jane was wearing one of her plaid skirts, but had dignified the occasion by wearing heels instead of boots. Nikki, in her black T-shirt and jeans, was underdressed, sporting a black eye and a bad mood. Just as she was starting to feel the first pangs of inferiority, she had a sudden flashback to the evening she’d spent in jail. She remembered the brusque lawyer and the advice she had offered.

“Don’t sign anything without reading it, and always ask for more than is being offered.”

“Just on principle,” she said, remembering.

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Merrivel asked with a polite smile, but a questioning lift to her eyebrow.

And then Nikki knew why Val had always smoked at Mrs. Merrivel’s house. She didn’t like being a little cog in a big machine. Val wanted to be remembered, even if it was badly. She liked to stand out. Nikki never stood out. At least she had never felt as though she did.

The sun was streaming in golden bars across the table, and as Nikki watched the dust motes dance, she had an epiphany. Her chin came up.

“Seventy-five thousand,” she said, sitting back in her chair.

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Merrivel repeated, sounding more like Nikki’s mother every minute.

“Seventy-five thousand a year, plus full medical and dental. I don’t want co-pays. I don’t want to split anything. I want you to cover everything from a facelift to a bullet through my skull. I want an insurance policy on my life, made out to the beneficiary of my choosing, for one million dollars, and I don’t want to pay for an apartment while I’m living in this stupid state.”

Mrs. Merrivel opened her mouth to speak, but Nikki thought of another demand.

“And I want Valerie Robinson’s name left on the ‘Consultants of Note’ plaque as long as I’m alive.”

For the first time in Nikki’s speech Mrs. Merrivel smiled.

“Fifty thousand, medical and dental, plus the insurance policy. But you pay for your own apartment and Valerie’s name goes.”

“Sixty-five,” Nikki countered. “And the name stays.”

“That’s more than double what we’re offering you. Do you really think you’re worth it?” Mrs. M asked with some asperity.

“Yes, I do,” Nikki said, staring her in the eye. “You only ever
gave me half the information I needed, and I not only figured it out, I lived.”

“Sixty-thousand and Valerie stays on the plaque. That’s my final offer.”

Nikki stared at Mrs. M and tried to measure just how far she could push the matter. Mrs. M’s smile was hard and there was a glint in her eye that told Nikki this was as far as she was going to go today. Nikki held out her hand. Mrs. Merrivel shook it with a smile, and for the second time that day, it seemed genuine.

“I assume John asked you to stay with us while you’re looking for a place?”

The change of mood and topic was dramatic, and it threw Nikki off-balance.

“Uh, yes. I hope that’s OK?”

“Of course. We’re always glad to have you. I’ll have Legal make the changes and bring the contract home tonight.” Mrs. Merrivel stood up. Nikki and Jane followed suit. “You know, I knew you’d fit in perfectly here.” She had the air of a baker pulling a perfect cake from the oven.

“I guess it’s a good thing I won the starter kit then,” Nikki said with a smile, thinking of the strange twist of fate that had brought her to this point.

“No. It’s a good thing that I rigged the drawing. Jane will get you agent profiles and help you with team selection. Just give me your list of selections for approval when you’re done.” Mrs. Merrivel beamed at Nikki and Jane and then walked briskly from the room.

Nikki watched her leave and then turned around to look at Jane in bewilderment. Jane was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.