Chapter 6: Tabby, Gazi

TABBY BRACED A HAND on the sink, giving her reflection a once over. She was slightly past tipsy, but she chalked that up to nerves. Javier flustered her in the best ways. God, her panties were soaked and the man had simply been a gentleman all night. He hadn't kissed her-yet. His touch had never lingered inappropriately or drifted. He'd been attentive, funny, kind all evening.

She let her head hang forward. When they'd left the dinner she'd anticipated foreplay in the form of pool. Now she was beginning to wonder if he was playing the slow game.

Wouldn't that be a nice change?

A guy who didn't want to get her in bed on their first date?

Did tonight even count as a date?

She really needed some water.

Tabby straightened, smoothing her dress down. Regardless of what happened between them tonight, she was looking forward to seeing Javier again. And who knew? Maybe him sitting in her best friend's seat was kismet? What if this was the start of her forever happy?

She wouldn't know if she kept standing in the damn bathroom.

She shoved the heavy door open and stepped out, her gaze going to their table.

Only Javier wasn't anywhere to be seen.

She frowned and crossed the pool hall. It was mostly empty given that it was a weeknight and creeping into the late hours.

Tabby stopped at the table, glancing around for her clutch, her man, but saw no sign of either.

One of the waitresses breezed by. "He's outside, hun."

"Thank you," Tabby mumbled.

At least he'd been thoughtful enough to not leave her purse unattended?

She crossed to the patio entrance and opened the door, stepping out on the wooden porch. It was dimly lit and smelled of old cigarettes.

"Javier?" She peered around her, but she was alone.

Weird.

The side gate stood open, so she crossed to it and leaned out, checking the side street for the familiar face.

"There you are." She blew out a breath and stepped down onto the sidewalk.

Javier pivoted to face her, his hand rubbing at his jaw. The relaxed vibe was gone.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

That was when she saw her phone wasn't in her clutch. He had it out, held with her purse, but it was still out of her bag.

"What are you doing, Javier?" Tabby came to a stop, not quite an arm's length away.

"I can't do this." He shut his eyes.

His words stung. Was she terrible company? Was he not into her? Oh, God. Was he married?

Javier opened his eyes, only this time when their gazes locked she didn't feel warmth or butterflies or a thrill of excitement.

"Tabby, I've lied to you. I have to believe it was for a good reason, but-I lied."

She held out her hand. "Give me my phone and my purse, please?"

He glanced down, as if he hadn't realized he still had her things. "Sorry."

She took both phone and purse from him then backed up a step.

"Please? Please, hear me out?" He followed her, hands up.

"Are you married?" she asked.

"What?" He frowned. "No."

Was this professional then?

He wouldn't be the first man sent by a competitor to woo her.

"My name is Jamie, not Javier. That's my brother's name. Jamie Silva. I'm part of a joint task force that needs your help, but because of the classified nature of what we're working on, we can't ask you."

"So you were going to do what, exactly?" This sounded like a load of bullshit. Tabby clutched her purse and phone to her chest. The smart, sober part of her brain told her to run back inside, call the cops, get help. The rest of her wanted answers.

"I was supposed to put this in your phone." He held out a micro-USB stick.

"Did you do it?"

"No." He stared at her, the shadows making it hard for her to read him.

He'd used her. Or at least that had been his intent all evening. The chemistry, the sparks, it was all a lie. And she was so damn hungry for someone to want her, to love her, that she'd fallen for it.

"What do you need my help for?" She didn't really want to know, but her mind needed details. A reason to write this off.

"I don't know. They couldn't tell me. My clearance isn't high enough, I guess."

"This-you-is bullshit. This isn't how this stuff works."

No, if someone needed HiTech's input or assistance, they called or sent a car. Neither Tabby or her father had ever refused to help. She'd been roused from bed a dozen times and never complained. It was part of the job.

And now some hunky guy showed up with a story?

She'd have to be extra drunk to believe one ounce of his bullshit.

Tabby turned and stalked back into the pool hall, pulling out her phone to call a cab.

Jamie Silva was going to regret tonight. She'd make certain of it.

***

Wednesday. Dammam, Saudi Arabia.

GAZI POLAT STARED DOWN at his worst nightmare.

He knew how to move small arms. Guns. Maybe some explosives. But he'd always stayed away from the really dangerous shit. The kind of stuff that brought a lot of attention and risk with it.

Playing it safe kept him away from by the Americans and wasn't keen on getting under their thumb again. His new friends were supposed to make these dangers go away. He'd trusted them. He should have known the high and mighty didn't get where they were without stepping on the little guys.

Why hadn't he asked questions?

A week ago one of his newer contacts had reached out to cash in on a favor. One of those big favors, the kind that left him indebted in blood and ink. He hadn't been able to say no, and besides, he wanted to keep these powerful people happy. But he could have asked some God damn questions.

What the hell was he going to do?

Gazi had examined the contents enough to know that just having these crates could get him killed. And now he had to sell them, serving as the middle man.

He had to offload the merchandise fast. Price didn't matter. He'd take a hit on it if he had to. Gazi planned on being long gone by the time people started looking for their missing shipment. The list of people who would want his hide once they discovered the theft was long. Governments. The manufacturer. The customers.

Why couldn't it be guns? Or some bombs? Why did it have to be some new, cutting edge thing?

His normal contacts weren't in the market for something like this. His one potential buyer had clammed up the moment Gazi had pitched the merchandise to them. It was too big, too flashy, too everything Gazi didn't normally sell. And he couldn't trust a middle man with this either.

"Think," he muttered to himself.

How did one offload an experimental weapon without getting caught in the process?

Gazi did most of his business the old fashioned way, face to face. But for something like this, he was going to need to go on-line. For that, he was going to need someone experienced in on-line auctions. At least he knew a guy there.