“Wait.” Something occurred to her. “Why aren’t you going with me? Just go with me.”
But he was shaking his head. “I wouldn’t go with Alex . . .”
Her voice cracked a little when she said, “And I’m Alex. Maybe.” Then she couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s gonna be hilarious if that really is my box.”
He flashed a crooked grin. “Yeah. Maybe you’ll find all the diamond necklaces you stole.”
She should have smiled or laughed. It was her turn to tease, but instead she found herself blurting out the words she’d spent all day trying not to say. “What happens if they know it’s not my box? If they know I’m an imposter? If—”
“You’ll be detained and arrested,” he said calmly. “But that’s not going to happen. Hey. Listen to me. The first thing they teach at spy school is to let people’s assumptions do the heavy lifting. The bank is small and people will recognize you. That’s why you’re wearing that crazy wig. We want them to recognize you and immediately associate you with Alex. But their business was built on anonymity, so you’re gonna walk in there and they’re gonna see what they want to see, and then they’re gonna leave you alone.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath and looked up at him, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So what you’re saying is . . . there is a spy school?” It was supposed to be a joke, so why did Zoe feel like crying? And, worse, why did Sawyer have to see it? Stupid Elite Spy School—
“Hey, it’s okay.” His hands were warm and gentle as they cupped her face. She felt his thumbs brushing across her cheeks, wiping away the tears that were seeping out of the corner of her eyes. Stupid, stupid eyes. She had to make them stop, but Sawyer was just right there, so tall and strong and—
Something snapped inside him. She saw the moment it happened because he reached for her hand. “Get back in the car. We’re leaving.”
“No.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
Of course I have to do this.
“We can find another way.”
There is no other way.
“We have other options.”
We’re all out of other options.
She thought the words but couldn’t say them—she couldn’t say anything, so she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him a little too hard for a little too long, and when she pulled back, his breath was a whisper on her lips.
“Don’t go,” he said. “We can run. We can hide. Put Zurich and Kozlov in our rearview mirror and never look back.”
It was so tempting, to run, to pretend. She’d woken up in Paris, a woman with no past, but as she stood in that dark square in Zurich, all she wanted to be was a woman with a future. And there was only one way that could happen.
“I have to know why I had that card. I have to help Alex. I have to figure out who I am,” she said, but she saw something in Sawyer’s eyes, pain and fear and heartbreak.
“Zoe.” He pulled her closer and she felt his breath on her skin. “You don’t have to do this for her.”
“I’m not.” She kissed him again, soft and quick. “I’m doing this for us.”
Then she walked away. High heels. Tight leather. A sway that didn’t really go with her particular body but she kept it anyway, words like a mantra in the chilly air.
“I’m Alex. I’m a spy. I’m a badass. I’m—” She slipped on some ice and fell. “I’m okay!”
Chapter Fifty
Her
“Welcome back . . . madame.” The man in the alcove on the other side of the doors looked polished and professional and . . . scared. Yup. Very, extremely frightened. Wide eyes and pale skin and a voice that cracked every so often. “I’m afraid . . . That is to say, the time is . . .” He gulped. And the next part came out all at once. “We will be closing soon but whatever madame needs we will accommodate.”
“Oh, I know you’re closing soon. I won’t be long!”
“Don’t forget, you’re Alex.” Sawyer’s voice was a warning in her ear, so Zoe stood a little straighter but she couldn’t decide what to do with her hands because they were always there, hanging off the ends of her arms. And speaking of arms . . . where were they supposed to go? Maybe—
“If madame would follow me . . .”
The man was looking at her pointedly, gesturing for her to follow him through a metal detector. He held out a basket.