Then I stopped by her parents’ house and when her mother said that it sounded as though Sloane had started to run a bath, came up with the lame excuse that I wanted to have a meeting with her father about Abdul Ghafor. Now, here I was, with no real reason for wanting to meet, after having managed to piss Sloane off even more.
This was why I didn’t do relationships. Trying to spend time with someone on a regular basis was more damn trouble than it was worth. And Sloane? God, I couldn’t keep up with her mood swings. I probably shouldn’t have said the thing about her sucking my cock, but it was true. One second, she wanted me, the next, she didn’t.
If this were any other woman, she would never hear from me again. Literally. But this was Sloane, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stay away. Even now, in the back of my mind, I was trying to come up with another way to get her to talk to me.
And then there was Nick. If only Sloane wanted me the way Nick did, the tables sure would turn. I’d be sick of her in a hot minute.
The only reason I’d agreed to meet with the other woman in person was to get her off my ass and convince her to leave me out of her fucked-up life. Instead of achieving either of those things, I seemed to have made Nick more determined than ever to spend every moment she could with me.
Kind of like I was being with Sloane. Jeez. Was it the same? Was I as annoying?
Whereas five minutes ago I was pissed, now I felt like a complete jackass. I walked over to the elevator, hoping that by the time I met with Mr. Clarkson, I would be able to get his daughter out of my head long enough to invent a reason for requesting the meeting in the first place.
When I walked into the conference room where the meeting was scheduled, I was surprised to find the only person there was Sloane’s father.
“Are we expecting anyone else?” I asked after we’d made small talk for several minutes.
Mr. Clarkson shook his head. “I do understand you wanted to discuss Ghafor, but I have other things I’d like to talk over with you.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Tackle, I consider you part of our family…”
Jesus, was he about to say something about Sloane? Had she gone to him for help getting me to leave her alone? If so, I could see my relationship with the entire Clarkson family ending here and now.
He cleared his throat. “I want you to know you can come to me anytime. If you need a sounding board to help you figure out whether you’re ready to go back to work with K19, I’d be happy to lend an ear.”
“I appreciate that, sir.”
“I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course,” I repeated.
“If I had it to go back and do over, I’d change a lot of things about my life.”
“You would?”
He nodded. “I’m not sure I’d even work for the State Department.”
“No?”
“If I did, I would insist on a job that allowed me to stay home more. It was very hard on Carolina and the kids with me gone most of the time. My wife begged me to dissuade Knox from working for the agency, but I felt I had to respect the decisions he made for his own life.”
“Have you told him what you’re telling me now?”
“I did, right before he left. I sense, though, that you and he may be at very different places in your lives.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The simplest answer is by the way you came straight back to Massachusetts after your Columbian ordeal while he chose to stay with your teammate in DC.”
Here I was, the man who avoided confrontation at any cost, charging straight into the midst of it. “And the more complicated answer?”
Mr. Clarkson sat back in his chair but rested his palms on the edge of the table. “I’d say you know better than I do.”
There was no doubt in my mind that he was referring to what was happening between Sloane and me. However, it didn’t sound as though he necessarily disapproved. The words of wisdom he gave me could also be construed as words of warning. If I was in a relationship with his daughter, then I should make note of the fact that if he could do it over again, he wouldn’t choose a life that took him away from home.
But we weren’t in a relationship. In fact, she told me straight out that she never wanted to see me again. I didn’t believe her, but even then, what was between us wouldn’t constitute anything more than casual dating coupled with equally casual sex.
If I wanted to walk out of here alive, I couldn’t tell him that.
“Now, should we talk about Abdul Ghafor?”
“I’m looking to get information more than give it.”
Mr. Clarkson smiled. “I gathered as much.” He reached over and picked up a manila envelope. “This is what we know.”
I wouldn’t disrespect the man by asking if he remembered I was no longer employed by the agency. At the same time, I was stunned by his lack of propriety, given what he handed me was highly classified information.
“Thank you, Mr. Clarkson, sir.”
“Don’t you think it’s time you started calling me Benjamin? Like I said, I consider you practically part of our family.”
I left the DHS offices knowing what I’d just experienced was Benjamin Clarkson proving his trust in me. Was it a challenge? Was he saying he trusted me enough to break State Department protocol and, therefore, expected me to understand he was trusting me to do the right thing when it came to his daughter? Or was all of that bullshit I’d concocted by way of a guilty conscience?
When I left the office, I
