SEAL the Deal (16 page)

Outside, a spectrum of fiery fall colors
danced across her window as a breeze scattered leaves from the nearby maple and
oak. A postcard-perfect autumn day, the kind that made Lacey long to sip hot
apple cider from a mug and linger on a park bench. To complete the picture, she
imagined herself nestled into the crook of the shoulder of an adorable man.

The image of Mick came to mind. She
couldn’t help it, even though she knew she was better off keeping him just as a
friend.

Mick was already enough of a distraction
in his current capacity.

So here she was. No cider. No park bench. No
Mick.

Hearing her phone vibrate, she reached for
her purse. “Hi, Vi,” she answered, recognizing her sister’s number.

“Hi, Lacey. How are you?”

“Oh, fine. What’s up?”

“Not much. I just thought I’d see how you
were doing.”

Something must be wrong. Vi was not the
type of person to call to just shoot the breeze. “I’m fine, I guess.”

“How’s that waterfront listing? Any
nibbles?”

“A few nibbles, but no offer. They priced
it too high. I keep hoping she’ll let me reduce the asking price.”

“Any more listings?”

“I actually just did a presentation for
one woman who was recently widowed. But it’s too soon for her to sell. I
couldn’t even recommend it.”

Lacey swore she could hear Vi swallowing
her disapproval. To her relief, Vi simply said, “Well, keep trying. It’s a
great idea you had—that funeral crashing thing. It’s bound to pay off. So,
are you still going to Mom and Dad’s for Thanksgiving?”

“Of course. You’re coming, too, right?”

“Of course.”

“I’m always there, Vi. Every year. That
can’t be why you called. Is everything really okay?”

Vi laughed. “There’s nothing wrong. Do I need
more of reason to call my sister?”

“Well, no.”

“I just haven’t seen you in a while and
thought I’d make sure you’d be there.”

There had to be something more, Lacey
thought several minutes later as she clicked her phone shut.

She remembered Vi had been eyeing a
regular position on CNN as a financial expert. That must be it, Lacey decided,
picturing Vi revealing her news at the Thanksgiving dinner table.

Well, at least the Miron listing didn’t
sell. Even the sale of a waterfront property would pale in comparison to Vi’s
news, anyway.

Before the eerie silence of the office
could envelop her again, Mick burst through the door.

“You’re trying to get Mrs. B to sell her
house,” he accused, without even offering the customary hello.

Lacey’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“You’re trying to get Mrs. B to sell her
house.”

Lacey would have felt guilty if she
weren’t so annoyed. “Would you mind lowering your voice? This is my place of
business,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t notice she was the only one there. It
was the principle. “I don’t burst into your classroom and make scenes, do I?”

“How could you do that to her?”

“I haven’t done anything. Edith asked me
to write up a proposal for her house. She was interested in finding out more
about the possibility of selling it. She called me. That’s what I do, Mick. I’m
a real estate agent.”

“She’s not ready to sell her house. You
know that.”

“Yes, I agree. Which I mentioned to her, I
might add. But it’s not my decision to make, is it?”

“You know how I feel about that house. You
should have told me.”

Her temper flared. “Absolutely not. It’s
not your business. Real estate may not be the top secret SEALs, but there is
some aspect of confidentiality. If Edith wants to tell you that she is thinking
about selling her house, that is
her
news to share. Certainly not mine.”

“She didn’t tell me. I saw your proposal
on her kitchen counter.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

“No. She wasn’t there.”

“So you just helped yourself to it?”

Mick shifted his weight, obviously uncomfortable.

Lacey’s eyes locked on his. “And rather
than going to her and asking, you came charging into my workplace—and
accusing me of—what? Forcing her to sell her house or something? Pressuring
her somehow? Do you really think I’d do that?”

He stood there in defeated silence.

“Is that what you think of me, Mick? For
all the time we’ve spent together, you think it’s even possible for me to
pressure anyone into selling their home? Damn, I wish I could. Then maybe I’d
be at a closing right now rather than answering the phones. Maybe I’d be living
in my own house rather than renting a room like I’m fresh out of college or
something. And now, to top things off, I have to sit here and listen to you
accuse me of being just what I really, really
should
be if I’m ever
going to be able to survive in this business.”

“I—”

“Just leave, Mick. If you want to talk to
me about this, you can talk to me when I’m not at work.” Lacey cursed the
moisture building up in her eyes. “And you can sure as hell use a more pleasant
tone,” she added.

Looking baffled and more than a little
guilty, Mick opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shook his head
and stalked out.

Seeing the door shut quietly behind him,
Lacey wiped a traitorous tear from her cheek, her blood boiling.

How dare he?

Is this what she gets for taking the high
road? She had never pressured anyone to sell anything. If she had, she’d
probably be writing up the listing for Edith’s house right now, and flush with
money from the commission she would have earned from Maeve’s grandmother’s
home.

Burying her face in her hands, she was
grateful for the silence of the deserted office.

Damn Mick.

Damn him for this useless excuse for a
friendship. Damn him for his lack of trust. At least she showed some sense to
not get romantically involved with him.

The phone rang and her heart raced, hoping
it was Mick calling to apologize. Instead, Maeve’s rattled voice greeted her. “Hey,
Lacey. Are you headed home soon?”

“Not for a while yet. Are you okay?” Lacey
couldn’t remember a time when Maeve had sounded distressed.

“I’m fine. But the house is a different
matter. Someone broke in. I wasn’t here when it happened.”

“Oh my God. Is Bess all right?”

“She was gone, too. She doesn’t even know
yet. She went to look at baby furniture and I don’t want to upset her on the
phone, you know? Not when she’s alone like that.”

Lacey heard voices in the background, and
the sound of police radios sent a chill down her spine. “I’ll lock up and head
right home. It’s dead here, anyway. No one will care.”

“Don’t worry, and don’t rush. The police
are here now doing their thing—reports and fingerprints or whatever. I
just knew you were going to be headed home in a bit and didn’t want you driving
into a hornet’s nest of cop cars without warning.”

Maeve gave Lacey a few more words of
reassurance, as well as a muffled, yet heady description of one particularly
attractive police officer who apparently was not wearing a wedding ring.

Lacey put her cell phone back in her purse
and stared into the empty office, her mind still trying to filter through the
last ten minutes.

This day just kept getting better.

***

Mick muttered various obscenities as he
stormed down Maryland Avenue to his car, hoping the ground would open up and
swallow him whole.

No such luck.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Damn if she didn’t make sense. He hadn’t
expected that. Of course she had obliged Mrs. B with a proposal. That was what
she did for a living.

Of course she couldn’t come straight to
him with the news. It wasn’t his business.

What made him think that the whole world
owed him an explanation for—well—everything? He wasn’t in command
here. There was no war going on here in Annapolis. No one was shooting at him.

That, of course, was the problem, he
realized as he returned a salute from a Marine corporal stationed at the gate
as he drove onto Academy grounds. His world was here, on this side of the
Academy wall, in a world that was regimented, structured. He belonged in a
military world where decisions truly were life and death, where there was a strict
chain of command.

Mick glanced in his rear view mirror at
the downtown scene he had just left as it faded into the distance. Out there, on
the other side of the Academy gate, was a world for civilians.

He didn’t know how to live with civilians.

He watched a group of tourists pouring out
of the Chapel wearing their sensible walking shoes and cameras wrapped around
their necks. Not one of those people would have barged into Lacey’s office,
demanding an explanation for something that wasn’t even their business.

Lacey didn’t deserve to be treated like
that.

Pulling his car into his parking spot in
front of his townhouse, his shoulders slumped. He wouldn’t blame her if she
never spoke to him again.

Panic gripped his chest at that prospect. Dropping
his keys on the table inside his front door, they seemed to echo in his
surroundings as if to remind him how empty his life was. Without her in it.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter if he went back
to the SEALs. It didn’t matter if the Navy forced a desk job on him for the
rest of his career.

A realization formed in his mind. If he lost
her friendship, his life was incomplete.

He couldn’t let it happen.

***

The scene was exactly as Maeve had
described it—a swarm of police cars on an otherwise quiet street, some with
lights still blazing. Through the doors was a bustle of activity, the tinny,
abrasive sounds of police radios filling the air. Drawers were pulled out from
cabinets. Chests were opened and tossed on their sides. An entire file cabinet
was emptied with its contents scattered onto the floor.

“Are you sure you’re not missing
anything?” one of the police officers was asking Maeve as Lacey walked toward
her.

“I’ll have to have Lacey and Bess check
their stuff, but it doesn’t look it. My laptop, TV, even my jewelry is still
here. I can’t believe they wouldn’t take any jewelry. They obviously have no
sense of style.”

It was clear from the officer’s face that
he wasn’t certain whether Maeve was being serious.

Lacey interrupted, hugging her friend. “Thank
God, you are all right.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just a little shook up and
wondering how the hell I’m going to clean up this mess.”

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll take care
of it together. How did they get in?”

“They broke the window on the French door
and turned the knob. God, I never really thought about how easy it is to break
into this place.” She shook her head. “You should go up to your room and make
sure they didn’t take anything. It didn’t look like it, though.”

Dazed, Lacey stepped into her room, feeling
the horror of seeing everything she owned tossed onto the floor. She tried to
keep herself from wondering what would have happened had she been home at the
time.

“Lacey!” A panicked shout downstairs
interrupted her thoughts. Was that Mick’s voice?

“Lacey!”

She darted downstairs and saw a police
officer standing at the door holding up his hand as if that would prevent Mick
from entering the home. “Do you live here?” the officer was asking him.

“No. I’m a friend. What’s going on here?” Mick’s
eyes frantically searched the room.

 “He’s okay, Officer.” Lacey stood
frozen in the middle of the stairs. “What are you doing here, Mick?”

Mick pushed forward at the sight of her, and
wrapped her in his arms. “My God, when I saw all the police cars, I thought the
worst.” He took her face in his hands and pressed kisses to her cheeks and
forehead, as if to assure himself that she was real. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Flustered by the feel of his lips
innocently touching her skin, she had to remind herself that she was still mad
at him.

Maeve’s voice came from the kitchen
doorway. “Uh, I’m fine, too, Mick. Do I get a greeting like that?”

Mick laughed and greeted her with a firm
kiss on the cheek. “How’s that?”

“You could do better. It’s been a rough
day,” Maeve answered with a smirk.

“Someone broke into the house,” Lacey
explained. “The place is a mess. But nothing’s missing.”

“Was anyone here?”

“No one. Bess is shopping. She doesn’t
even know. Maeve was getting her hair colored.”

Maeve sent Lacey a glare.

Lacey corrected. “I mean, highlighted. Just
some summer-like highlights. I was at the office,” she finished, narrowing her
gaze on him. “But I guess you know that, don’t you?”