Chasing Ivan by Tim Tigner

assignments. The second thing that struck her was the location. Based on the background, she knew where Emily was standing. She needed to let Achilles know, but this wasn’t the time to break away.
    “It’s showtime, Ivan,” Michael said, with a raised voice.
    Aspinwall looked around for the recipient of Michael’s remark, but didn’t see anybody.  
    Michael redirected his host’s attention to the screen. A hand had popped up in front of the lapel camera. It was holding a smartphone open to the same red-yellow-green button app they’d just seen demonstrated. The hand held it there for a good ten seconds, then the hand dropped and the cameraman moved. He turned Emily toward the railing so that they were both looking out over the Mediterranean, where dozens of festive yachts lit up the harbor.  
    Jo could almost hear music crescendo as the hand on the camera moved to Emily’s shoulder like Jaws coming out of the deep. As the fingers clamped around her flesh, the thumb beckoned for attention. It was tapping against the clasp of her necklace — a clasp that was decorated like a moon, but shaped like a puck.

Chapter 18

    “I HAVE A confession to make,” Emily said, staring out at the panorama of bobbing yachts and twinkling stars.
    “You can tell me anything, except goodbye,” Andreas said, his hand caressing the back of her neck.
    She turned to face him. A string of white bow lights reflected in his eyes like a stairway to heaven. “I’ve never been as happy as I am now, at this very moment. I thought men like you existed only in dreams.”
    Andreas replied so softly, she had to strain to hear it over the wind and slapping waves. “You bring out the best in me.”
    “I’m sorry. I suppose that sounded sappy. I’m not usually like that. It’s just that I felt as if I knew you so well after all our online conversations, and now I have proof that you’re real.”
    “I understand.”
    “Do you? Yes, of course you do. That’s kind of my point. I was just, well, so ready for tonight to be a disappointment. Back in London, I mean. And then with all of this,” she gestured with both arms. “It’s … people always hide the bad things online. You only hid good things, starting with your handsome face. Usually it’s the ugly guys who post blurry pictures. And your lifestyle. Not even a coded hint. I just didn’t know guys like you really existed. And there I go again.”
    Andreas said, “Let’s forget about the past, and stop worrying about the future, and just enjoy the moment.”
    “Sounds great.”
    She stood quietly, contently, studying his face. It gave her a different kind of surprise. He’d had work done. Not Botox or hair transplants, but reconstructive work. It was expertly done, but she knew from a summer internship in her uncle’s office how to spot the scars. And his eyes, they weren’t naturally blue. He was wearing colored lenses. All this was normal for the superyacht crowd, she felt sure, but it struck her as out of character for Andreas. He was like her, more Labrador than poodle. “How do you know our host?”
    “Voskerchyan? I do work for him from time to time. Perks like this are part of our retainer arrangement.”
    If this is a perk , Emily thought, the base pay must be fantastic . “You never told me exactly what kind of consulting it is you do.”
    Fireworks erupted with a boom and a series of smaller pops. The first salvo of the evening. Andreas had told her there would be a display to mark the end of the show. Since the best viewing was aft, he’d invited her to the bow, where they could enjoy some privacy. She appreciated the romantic gesture. She was also pleased when Andreas ignored the display in order to give her an answer.  
    Speaking loudly to be heard over the booms, oohs, and aahs, he said, “My work doesn’t really fit in a box. I’m trustworthy, and good at solving problems. Men like Voskerchyan need people they can trust, and they tend to have lots