Sidebars Book 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 2I’d been working at Arlington Hall for about a week and a half and still hadn’t managed a meeting with Portia Sebring. I passed her in the hallways and on the stairs, always nodding politely but never making an effort to introduce myself. I was sure she knew who I was, if only because her brother would have seen to it.

Sebring, Sr. called me. “Planning on making a move any time in the near future?” he demanded irritably.

“I thought you had confidence in my capabilities.”

“I don’t remember saying that.”

“I see. Would you prefer I return to the CIA, then?”

“No, no. No need to be so precipitate. You’ll contact me as soon as…”

“Trust me, sir. You’ll be among the first to know.”

“See to it.” He hung up without saying goodbye.

The next day in the cafeteria, I happened to overhear a trio of secretaries gossiping about Portia over lunch. My back was to them, and they didn’t realize I could clearly hear every word they spoke.

“Do you think she heard us?”

“She’s a Sebring. Of course she heard us.”

“Uh oh. Are we in trouble?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of her telling tales.”

“She’s so cold. I get the shivers just from standing next to her in the ladies’ room.”

“I don’t think she’s cold,” although this secretary sounded dubious. “I think she’s just very…well, reserved.”

“Maybe, but I heard that in London they called her Ice Princess.”

“That’s old news,” the first said pityingly. “Everyone’s heard that.” There was silence for a bit while they ate. Then, “Y’know what? I’d like to be a fly on the wall if she and Mr. Mann were ever in the same room.”

“Mr. Mann isn’t bad looking, but he’s as cold as she is.”

“You can say that again. Sally told me that Linda heard it from Beth that Annette tried to flirt with him, and he gave her one of those looks of his, you know the ones.”

“Oh yeah, the kind that would make the North Pole seem like the Sahara.”

“That’s them. Anyway, he excused himself and walked away. You’ve seen Annette.” Annette was a statuesque brunette who attempted to attract every male in the department by favoring very tight sweaters that emphasized her bounteous attributes. “The man must be…” Her voice lowered, and I couldn’t distinguish what she said, although I could imagine. Eunuch was one of the less derogatory epithets with which I’d been labeled.

“Really? Oh, wow!” The other secretaries giggled.

“That’s why they would be perfect for each other. Mr. and Miss Freeze.”

I gathered up my dishes and stacked them on the tray. The secretaries saw me as I rose, gasped, and turned bright red, one looking as if she were about to burst into tears, but I ignored them. I disposed of the trash and left.

* * * *

I stood outside the office of Anthony Sebring, II and fingered the piece of paper in my pocket. A bit of code by that Russian, Sidorov. It had been sent to me by Jefferson Sebring, the second oldest of Miss Sebring’s brothers. Normally he wouldn’t contact me. Then I read the scrawled note included with the code. “Even if you can decipher this, don’t.” Don’t was underscored so heavily it almost tore the paper, leaving me little doubt that he also was in on this plot to marry his sister to me.

His secretary was away from her desk just then, and there was no one to inform him of my presence. Well, there was no sense in putting it off. I rapped on the door and let myself in without waiting for permission to enter. Anthony Sebring, II, Portia’s oldest brother and my titular superior in the NSA, sat behind his desk, which was littered with paper. His hair was disheveled.

“You wanted something, Mann?” he snapped. For some reason, he’d been antagonistic toward me from the moment I’d introduced myself to him my first day here.

Not that I’d permit myself to care. There weren’t many people who made the effort to get to know the man behind the icy façade I projected. However, if his sister made as little effort, I frankly couldn’t see this project moving forward.

I moved aside some of the litter on his desk—I’d never let my own desk become so untidy—and put the paper on the blotter.

“Your brother sent me something one of his people picked up. I thought we could try deciphering the code.” I tapped the paper I’d placed there. “I used every trick I know, but I’ve had no luck.” Obviously Russian, one of the languages in which I was fluent, it was as if the solution was at the edge of my mind but kept eluding me.

“You?”

“I’m not half bad when it comes to deciphering codes,” I reminded him without any false modesty. “I am more than just a pretty face, you know.”

He looked up at me, startled and then displeased. “What do you mean by that?”

This was why I never let my guard down. I’d tried to joke with a colleague, and it had fallen flat. “Nothing, Sebring. Perhaps you can do something with it.”

We worked on it for three quarters of an hour. I’d removed my suit jacket and unbuttoned my vest. Then I’d loosened my tie. Finally I’d rolled up my sleeves. Sebring curled his lip, but he wound up doing the same.

“Goddammit,” he growled. “This may as well be Greek for all the sense I’m making of it.”

“Perhaps we should call in your sister.”

“No.”

I looked at him. “I thought the plan was for her to meet me. This is the perfect opportunity.”

He scowled at the paper before him on his desk, then up at me. “It is. I know. I—” He reached for the in-house phone. “If you hurt her, I promise you I’ll tear off your balls and stuff them down your throat.”

“I have no intention of hurting her. And let me remind you, I wasn’t the one who came up with this idea.”

“Don’t remind me. But removing one’s father’s testicles is frowned upon in most circles.”

I couldn’t help laughing. I liked Sebring’s sense of humor, even if he didn’t like mine. I’d often felt the same way about my own father.

“As for Bryan…” Sebring’s expression suddenly became unreadable.

“What does Bryan have to do with it?”

“Hmm? Oh, he suggested you.”

“Did he?” I knew better than to be flattered. “Think positive, Sebring. Your sister might not even tolerate me.”

“Yeah. That’s a possibility.” That seemed to cheer him, and he dialed Portia’s extension. “I need you in here right now. Jefferson’s forwarded a new code to us, and there’s something about it that’s driving me out of my mind.” He listened for a second, then said, “Good.” He hung up. “She’ll be right here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Jefferson?”

“Well, he did forward it to me. Through you.”

“Certainly.” If there was one thing this particular Sebring excelled at, it was obfuscation.

Within a minute or so there was a brisk knock on the door, and Portia Sebring walked in.

“What have you got, Tony? Oh!” She came to an abrupt halt when she saw me, and I felt sucker-punched. Of course I’d seen her before, but something about her now had my mouth going dry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” Her eyes, frank and open, seemed to lock with mine. She caught her breath, her lips parted, and the tip of her pink tongue peeked out to moisten her lips. Nerves? Or…something else?

“Portia, this is Nigel Mann. He’s been vetted to us from Bryan’s department. Nigel, my sister.”

I couldn’t help staring at her. She could have been dressed in a suit of armor or a ball gown for all the notice I took of her clothes. My own breath seemed caught in my throat. I’d never had this type of reaction to anyone. She was so…

“Yes,” Sebring snapped, breaking into my thoughts. “We’re aware there’s a resemblance, so—”

“Actually, she’s much prettier than you or either of your brothers, Tony.” I stepped around the big desk and walked toward her, my hand extended. “Miss Sebring, it’s a pleasure.”

“Please, call me Portia.” There was a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Portia. And I’m Nigel.” Her hand was small in mine. I had the strongest desire to cover it with my other hand, as if to keep it safe. I was average height, and the top of Portia’s head came to just about level with my mouth. If she tipped her head back…

She tipped her head back, her blue eyes looked up into mine, and I started to draw her closer, into my personal space.

Sebring tapped a pencil on his desk. “People?”

“Sorry.” Did my voice sound as hoarse to them as it did to me? I cleared my throat. “You were saying?”

“I was saying that if you’d release my sister’s hand, maybe she could take a look at this code and make some sense of it.”

My cheeks felt warm. I was still holding Portia’s hand, and I let it go, surprised that I’d been overtaken by physical feelings in our workplace.

Portia stared down at her hand as if she had never seen it before, then looked up at me, her eyes wide and so blue I could have gone swimming in them.

“Mann, would you stop distracting my sister so she can see if she can make heads or tails of this code?” Sebring sounded irritated.

That was right. I was supposed to see to it that the Ice Princess wasn’t distracted. I scowled at him, but he was busy showing Portia the paper with the code.

“There’s something about this line…” He pointed it out.

She took the paper and examined it carefully, then spoke the Russian words aloud. I couldn’t take my eyes from her lips. I must have uttered a sound, because she looked at me. Her expression became cold, and I beheld the Ice Princess.

“Do you find my pronunciation amusing?”

“Not at all. I haven’t heard anything that flawless outside of Mother Russia…” I could have kicked myself. No one was supposed to know I’d been in the Soviet Union. Sebring raised an eyebrow, but Portia was focused inward.

“Mother Russia? That’s it! The key to this code is in Tolstoy’s War and Peace.” Excitement lit her face, and she was vibrant and beautiful.

When had I stopped thinking of her as a cool blonde and started seeing her as beautiful?

She went to the bookshelf and took down the book.

“Portia, are you sure?”

“Tony, I’m more than sure; I’m positive.” She thumbed through the book until she found the passage. “There. See, there. Oh, that sneaky so-and-so. This is Sidorov’s work, isn’t it?” Her gaze was alight with the pleasure of solving the puzzle.

I’d known, simply because Jefferson Sebring had told me he’d gotten it from a double agent who worked for Sidorov as well as us. I was impressed. How had she been able to ascertain that so easily?

“He did something very similar with Anna Karenina,” she explained, bubbling with enthusiasm. “The man has a weakness for Tolstoy.”

“Nicely done. Nothing like a fresh pair of eyes,” Sebring was pleased. “I’ll give this to the team to finish deciphering.” He glanced at me, and his mouth tightened. He made a production of looking at his watch. “It’s getting late. Mann, why don’t you and my sister go out and grab a bite to eat?”

An excellent way to get us together, perfectly logical.

“That’s quite all right, I can have a sandwich at my desk.” Her words were rushed. “Besides, I’m sure you want him to work on his own code.” Her lips were saying “no,” but there was “I’d love to have dinner with you” in her eyes.

“Portia.” Sebring frowned at her, but she didn’t notice; she was gazing up at me.

I barely noticed him myself. Portia’s eyes were so enchanting…

Sebring huffed. “It’s been a long day, and I think you could do with a break. Now go. But remember, you both need to be back here bright and early in the morning.”

“I never say ‘no’ to the man in charge.” I straightened my tie, rolled down my shirt sleeves and fastened the cufflinks, and smoothed my hand over my hair. “Miss…Portia?”

“Just let me freshen up.” She touched her tongue to her lips, smiled through her lashes, and walked out of the room, the slim skirt she wore clinging to the curves of her backside and flirting against her legs.

“Mann!”

“Yes, Sebring?”

“Portia’s not stupid. Don’t overdo it.”

“Overdo what?”

“Acting smitten…Oh, my God, you are acting, aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer him, and his expression darkened.

“Listen to me very carefully, Mann. It doesn’t take that long to have dinner.”

“You wouldn’t want me to rush your sister, would you? Give her indigestion?”

“You give me indigestion. You know my sister lives with me. I expect her to be home at a reasonable hour. I expect her hair to be in place, every button buttoned, every stitch of clothing exactly the same as when she leaves here. I expect…”

“I get it, Sebring.”

“You’d better not.” He took his wallet from his trouser pocket. “Now, I’ll—”

I felt the blood rush to my head, and I stood there, motionless. When I spoke, I knew there were icicles dripping from my words. “If you’re about to give me money in order to buy your sister dinner, you can consider this whole mission scrubbed.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’ll tell your sister something’s come up and I can’t make dinner, and in the morning I’ll be back at Langley. I don’t bluff, Sebring.” Not in my personal life.

He shoved his wallet back in his pocket, looking almost resentful. “I was just trying to—”

“I know what you were trying to do—put me in my place, make sure I know I’m no suitable match for a Sebring. You were trying to make me feel no better than a gigolo.”

He turned red. “That wasn’t—”

“Wasn’t it? Listen to me. You did what your father wanted, got us together in a way that won’t rouse her suspicions. Whether we stay together, whether anything comes of this, is up to Portia now. Stay. Out. Of. It.” I grabbed my suit jacket, turned on my heel, and stalked out.

My God, where had Mr. Freeze gone?

No, he hadn’t gone anywhere. It was just Sebring. His words were enough to drive an honorable man—of which I prided myself on being—insane.

I visited the men’s room and stared at my reflection in the mirror. “You, my friend, just might be in over your head. Do me one favor, if you please, and don’t screw this up.” I blew out a breath, went to a urinal to relieve myself, then washed my hands. After giving myself a final glance in the mirror, I opened the door and walked out into the corridor to meet a woman who I somehow found exceptionally intriguing.