Leah obviously needed to go lie down because she really was beginning to believe the spy story. Not that she didn’t have some pretty strong doubts—somehow, a huge guy conspiracy was a lot easier to swallow than an outlandish tale of spies. But could Michael really talk two friends into going along with it?
She continued to chat it up with Rex, throwing him a couple of curve questions to catch him in a lie. Rex handled each one flawlessly.
She sat at the table a long time after she hung up, staring at the CIA Web site, trying to absorb this strange little twist in the history of her life. All right, so what if she did believe it? It didn’t really change anything . . . did it? Of course it didn’t change anything! It was just a curious and unusual turn of events in something that was really ancient history and had absolutely no effect on her now. No matter why he left, she could never forgive the way he left.
She just had to keep reminding herself of that.
Subject: Re: Spies and Other Stuff
From: Lucy Frederick <[email protected]>
To: Leah Kleinschmidt <[email protected]>
Time: 10:34 pm
Rex Anderson! Oh gawd, he was so CUTE! So you really think the spy thing might be true, huh? I guess it could be—if you think about it, there’s really no reason three grown men would lie about it, even if they are friends. And there’s nothing for M to gain from lying about it—it’s not like you’re going to get back with him. ROFLMAO!! You’re not, right?
Subject: Re: Re: Spies and Other Stuff
From: Leah Kleinschmidt <[email protected]>
To: Lucy Frederick [email protected]>
Time: 7:48 pm
God, NO! He could get down on his knees and BEG and still there’d be no way I’d go back. Who cares, anyway? I mean, think about it, he’s telling me that he dumped me because he was a spy but he lied about being a spy. The obvious question is, what else did he lie about? Maybe the whole damn thing was a lie. Anyway, I do not want to go back there, I really honestly don’t, so please let’s not talk about it anymore.
So listen, the buttercup yellow dress you attached in your e-mail this morning? You know, the one you said was gold but was so yellow that it made me want a fried egg? If that was supposed to be a joke, I’m dying here . . .
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Spies and Other Stuff
From: Lucy Frederick <[email protected]>
To: Leah Kleinschmidt <[email protected]>
Time: 10:56 pm
Would you PLEASE adjust the color on your computer screen? That was gold! Sheesh!
Subject: Men of Mystery
From: Jack <[email protected]>
To: Mikey <[email protected]>
Time: 10:57 pm
Yo, we’ve got a problem. Nicole doesn’t want someone named Amy on her side and has apparently convinced the producers Amy should be moved, which means we have to retrain about four women. Can you show up at 8 tomorrow for that? Other than that, just wondering how the spy angle is working for ya. ?
Chapter Nine
WHEN Michael arrived the next morning, he was surprised to see Leah was one of the women switching battlefield positions. She and Jack were already going through some of the moves.
As she ran through a new obstacle course, Michael got Jack over to the side and asked, “Of the twenty women you had to move around, you had to choose her?”
“I had to,” Jack said, watching her closely. “She’s one of the best we have and easiest to retrain, and we have to get one of them trained on the rooftop-to-rooftop leap.” He glanced at Michael from the corner of his eye. “Don’t worry. I won’t let her hurt you.”
Michael snorted.
When it came time to do the rooftop-to-rooftop leap— which was really done with cranes and ropes and mirrors for the viewing audience at home—Michael moved to help Leah up.
She gave him a quick, thin smile. “That’s okay—I can do it.”
“It’s not as easy as it might look—”
“Really,” she said, cutting him off. “I can do it.” Michael raised his hands in the air and stepped back, and Leah scrambled up and away from him.
A moment later, she went tumbling off the tightrope, her fall stopped by a harness around her waist and legs. She hung there like a sack, bouncing up and down, her eyes as wide as saucers. Below her, several women had arrived at work and were peering up at her, asking each other what she was doing.
Michael strolled up to where she was bouncing; her head level with his, only upside down. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. It’s a little harder than it—”
“Shut up, Michael.”
He nodded. “Okay . . . but I think you should pull your shorts down. People are beginning to talk.”
She almost killed herself trying to do that, squealing and bouncing and twisting while the other women laughed.
Michael couldn’t possibly have been more entertained.
“Man,” Eli said, walking up to stand next to Michael as Leah bounced. “That really sucks.”
Michael nodded and smiled up at Leah, who gave him a murderous look.
“So we’ve got another small crisis,” Eli said as they watched Leah struggling with her shorts. “You know the gal who’s always got a problem?”