Smoke and Shadows by Victoria Paige

talked to him lately?” Her brother’s baritone voice challenged her over the phone.
    Marissa huffed in annoyance. Her father was disappointed in both his children for choosing a life outside their family business. Trenton Cole III was old money from Maryland and was the principal owner of Cole Nauticals, a shipping conglomerate. Her brother, Trent, chose to join the United States Army and was right now in Special Forces. He was coming home from God knows what after his eighth tour in Afghanistan, and was staying in Northern Virginia for a couple of months.
    “It’ll be good business with both of us in this, sis,” Trent added when she did not respond. “I’d like to quit the Army and go into private security. A group of us just needs the capital. Dad might listen to you. Just back me up, please?”
    “What is it with you ex-Army guys and private military companies anyway?” Marissa grumbled.  
    “We love what we do, Reesee. Just need to get paid more money for our skills.”
    Loads of money, judging from what Marissa could see from what it cost to run AGS operations. Viktor had close to forty full-time agents and they were always deployed somewhere, not to mention any number of contractors who chose to work with them. Paid top-dollar, but non-official covers (NOC), therefore, Uncle Sam or any other client could disavow them if shit hit the fan. It was part of the contract.
    “Are you going NOC or official?” Marissa asked.
    “Not sure yet. What do you suggest, Ms. CIA?” her brother drawled.
    “Damn it, Trent, this line is not secure.”
    “Oh, shit. Sorry.”
    “You just failed Security 101, baby brother.”
    Just then, there was a sound of scuffing near the front door. Her alertness shifted into high gear.
    “Hey, I need to go. Call me when you’re back stateside.”
    When Marissa ended the call, she immediately reached for her gun. Gripping the weapon with both hands, muzzle pointing down, she slowly approached the door. A few steps before she reached the foyer, the doorbell rang.
    “Who is it?”
    “Your friendly neighbor.”  
    Brian.
    Exhaling deeply, Marissa hid her gun in the credenza near the entrance. Out of habit, she peeked through the peephole, spying Brian’s distorted face.  
    “Brian,” Marissa said in exasperation as she opened the door. He walked in with a box of pizza and a six-pack of beer.  
    “I told you—”
    “You have to eat anyway,” Brian cut in. “Look, I’ll leave in an hour.” He shrugged. “Or two.”  
    Marissa glowered at him. He grinned, laid the pizza and beer on the table, and raised both hands to appease her. “I just miss my friend and want to catch up.”
    “Brian—”
    “I’m not here for a booty-call.”
    “Hey, I’ve never accused you of that,” Marissa retorted. “Well then, let’s eat. The pizza is getting cold.”
    “You’re so strung-up,” Brian observed.
    “I told you I wasn’t good company,” she replied, a bit apologetically. “Too much stuff going on at work.”
    Brian regarded her thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything else; instead, he flicked the tab on a beer and handed it to her.  
    She took a hearty gulp and realized the cold beverage was exactly what she needed. “Ahhh, that tastes so good.”
    “So, I got half-pepperoni and half the works,” Brian said as he flipped the pizza box open. They ate their pizza in silence. Pepperoni pizza was all Marissa ever ate and was gratified that her neighbor remembered because it saved her from picking at her pizza until there was nothing left except cheese and crust.
    “I know architects can work ridiculously long hours,” Brian said over a bite of pizza, “but don’t you think you’re running yourself to the ground? I’m just speaking as a friend here, so if I cross the line—smack me.”
    Her lips tipped up. See—easygoing which made him not relationship material because he couldn’t bring himself to care deeply enough. He’d test the waters and then pull back.