Tom accepted it with a smile. "Thank you. You know, for a moment there I was worried you were not going to give that to me after all."
"I am sorry, I almost forgot." One look at Tom's expression and she started laughing. She sat down, feeling more relaxed, but really hot. How many degrees is it in here? Damn sweater.
Tom sat on the sofa and said nothing.
Alex felt compelled to say something, to break the awkward silence. "So, what's her name?" she asked, pointing at the cat.
"Tom. His name is Tom. He is a tomcat, so it makes sense." Tom chuckled.
"Oh," she said, biting her lip. I am so not going to ask any more questions tonight. That's it.
"Dinner is almost ready. You will find that we are used to having late meals because of the specifics of our business."
The sound of dishes clattering came from the kitchen. Alex relaxed a little hearing those sounds. Tom smiled, turning his face away, so his smile could go unnoticed.
A middle-aged woman entered the living room, carrying a vase of flowers.
"Alex, please meet my wife, Claire." Tom took the vase from his wife and set it on the coffee table.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Claire." Alex shook the warm and friendly hand extended by Claire and relaxed another notch. She looked at Claire and wondered why her face seemed so familiar.
"Alex, I think you have briefly met Claire. She sometimes helps us at The Agency," Tom said.
"The receptionist," Claire said, seeing how confused Alex looked.
"Yes, now I remember," Alex said.
"Tom, dear, please go uncork that bottle of wine in the kitchen. Alex and I have something to discuss in private." Claire gave Alex a friendly wink. "Just some girl talk."
Tom started for the kitchen, taking the gift-wrapped bottle of wine with him. He was only 10 feet away, when the cat suddenly woke up, got off the armchair, and silently followed Tom, without paying attention to anything else.
"They are inseparable. Little Tom follows Tom everywhere, wouldn't leave him out of his sight for a minute," Claire said. "He even goes with him into the bathroom, waiting for him to take his shower. If Tom is taking too much time in the shower, and the cat wants to go to sleep, he meows so loud that Tom simply has to come out."
"I was wondering how you tell them apart when you need to call them," Alex said with a quiet chuckle, "so, it's Little Tom and Big Tom?"
"No, it's Little Tom and Tom, or just Tom for both of them, but they both know whom I am calling, by the inflexions in my voice. They never read it wrong, either of them."
A bit nervous, Alex asked, "So, what did you want to discuss in private, Claire? Tom won't take forever to uncork a bottle."
"Well, I wanted to ask you a personal question," Claire said, dropping her voice to a whisper.
"Go ahead," Alex encouraged her, also whispering.
"Aren't you feeling a bit warm in that heavy sweater?" Claire's smile was sincere and encouraging. In her eyes, Alex saw she completely understood her doubts and fears with respect to this dinner invitation. "You know, you could take that off and I could give you a T-shirt of mine," Claire continued.
"That won't be necessary, Claire," Alex said, taking a step back. She pulled the sweater over her head with one move, revealing the gray T-shirt she was wearing underneath. "I have my own." Alex hung the sweater on the back of her armchair and leaned back, letting out a long sigh of relief. "Thank you."
"Now you can come back, Tom," Claire called.
Tom entered the room, holding the bottle and three wine glasses. He sat on the sofa and started pouring the wine. "So, now tell me a little bit about yourself, off the record and completely casual," he said, handing Alex a glass of wine.
"Well, to start with, I am praying I chose a good wine," Alex said. "I am clueless on the topic of wines."
"So, how did you select this one?" Tom asked. "Did you ask a store clerk for help?"
"Initially, yes. However, he didn't seem to know what he was talking about. So I selected the wine based on pricing and the label."
"OK," Tom said, raising his glass. "Let's see how much wine for the buck." He took a sip, and then asked. "Alex, what do you normally like to drink?"
"Martini. And a beer sometimes."
"Then why not bring a bottle of Martini, or a six pack of your favorite beer?"
"Well, I didn't think of what I would like to drink; I thought more in terms of what's appropriate for such an occasion," Alex explained, blushing slightly.
Tom started toward the kitchen, followed closely by his cat. He turned and asked, "How do you take your Martini?"
"Half a glass on three or four ice cubes, slice of lemon, just the vermouth, nothing else. My Martinis have actual Martini vermouth in them, not vodka."
After a few moments, Tom returned and handed Alex a glass filled with Martini Rosso on ice, with half a slice of lemon on the side. He handed Claire a tall glass, filled with a clear drink, some herbs, and lots of small ice cubes.
"Was my wine that bad?" Alex asked in a sad voice.
"Oh, yes," Tom said decisively, and they all started laughing.
A rapid tap on the front door and Steve came in, followed closely by Brian and a third man.
"You're late," Tom said.
"Traffic. Only traffic could ever come between me and your steaks, you know that," Brian said, with a serious face. He gave Claire a hug, then headed straight for the table.
The third man approached the armchair where the Siamese cat was sleeping, grabbed him and put him on the back of his neck, like a scarf. The cat started to purr and stretch his legs, with his eyes half-closed.
"Alex, meet Richard Ferguson, our colleague," Tom said. Alex shook the hand he extended. The carefully manicured hand belonged to a handsome man in his late thirties, with a pleasant demeanor and an impeccable taste in clothing.
"Richard is currently working on assignment with a client, that's why you two haven't met until now," Tom explained.
"I am actually surprised that you allow the team members to stay in touch with The Agency while we're on assignment," Alex said. "Aren't we at risk of, um… blowing our cover?"
"Minimally," Tom said. "If anyone should run a background check on me and Claire, they will only find that we are semi-retired, living off our personal wealth, and occasionally engaged in brokering real estate deals. The Agency is listed in many places as a real estate agency, so whenever you come to visit, you won't raise any red flags… You're just searching for your new house and meeting with your Realtor."
"Interesting," she smiled. "How about them?" Alex said, waving toward Richard and Steve.
"Friends of the family, and relatives, such as Steve. We've sort of adopted Steve," Tom said. "Richard, on the other hand, since he's so busy with his client these days, he can only take you shopping tomorrow."
"Shopping?" Alex asked in surprise.
"Yes. You need to pick up a few things, clothing and accessories mostly, to complement your appearance on the job," Tom said.
"Meet me at the airport tomorrow morning," Richard said. "It will be my pleasure to assist you with your quest for the perfect wardrobe."
"Why the airport?" She didn't even try to disguise her surprise.
"We're going shopping in Minnesota. Have you ever visited the largest mall in the country?"
"No, never," she answered.
"It's in Minneapolis; well, in Bloomington to be exact.. It's called the Mall of America. It's near the airport, but I would still pack an overnight bag, just to make sure we have all the time we need to finish our shopping," Richard said casually. "After all, we're not needed back until Sunday night."
She swallowed with difficulty. "What time would you like me to be at the airport?"