Paint The Town Red

Chapter 8

Rebecca's POV

"You're dating a fucking FBI agent?!" James blares over the phone, and I groan, pulling it away from my ear as I park at the restaurant across the street from where Matthew is.

I'm starving, and we can't get a visual inside this office, so I'll stalk from here, since this is where he has reservations.

Right now, this blonde wig is itching the crap out of me, and this red lipstick is definitely causing me to stick out. Add both in with the dark sunglasses and skin tight dress that I'm wearing, and I look nothing like Rebecca Graves, just in case.

"I already explained how it happened" I tell James, wishing I had just kept the confession out of it.

"And you're in New York, where she also happens to be."

"Matthew is here, which is why I'm here. He took an unscheduled trip up here, so I got worried he was coming to see one of the others, since Jasper is the next target and he's also here. He has lunch reservations for two, James."

He blows out a heavy breath "New York is a ling way from West Virginia. What's he doing there?"

"I don't know. He went into the same office where Jasper works."

"The media hasn't gotten a hold of the story."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that they haven't heard several of their friends died recently."

He groans quiet, and I stare out the restaurant. Tyler has reservations for two here at lunch. That much I found out from the cloned phone. But he hasn't been texting Jasper. I'm not sure who he's texting.

"James? still there?"

"No," he says, sounding muffled. "I'm right beside you."

I look out my window to find a guy with a goatee, dark glasses, and a stick.... I'm not sure what its called, but it looks suspiciously like the stick the seeing impaired would use to feel their way around. His hair has also been bleached blonde.

I guess we're both incognito.

I clim out of the car, arching an eyebrow at him. "Cowabunga?"

He snorts, but then his lips thin.

"So you decided to come to New York City without telling me?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shrugs carelessly. "Same thing you essentially did. I have the same phone you do, remember? I knew you'd be heading out."

He points fingers at me

"Don't think you're off the hook over this FBI girlfriend thing. That conversation is paused--not over."

I groan, and he smirks as he holds his arm out for me to take.

He looks all classy in his suit. With the way I'm dressed, I look like his high-paid hooker.

"You look good, by the way," he whispers as he guides me down the sidewalk.

"High praise coming from a man who's supposed to be blind," I say with a sweet smile

He restrains a smile as we walk inside. "Reservation for Demarco" I tell the hostess "We requested the terrace, since its so beautiful outside today."

Just like Matthew requested.

She beams at me, treating me like I don't resemble a call girl with her John. "Of course. Right this way" she says, refraining from calling me Mrs. Demarco in case its the name of my date.

So I guess they're used to this sort of thing.

"You are making me look like a hooker" I hiss under my breath.