She took a deep breath when she stepped down out of the van, then got back in Delilah and took off. She vaguely noticed the van following her. Harris had told her they’d be within range, but wouldn’t be on the same street at the bar.
Chadwick’s was on Canal, one street over from G Street. It was dark and less traveled. Stepping out of the car, she gathered every bit of fake confidence she had and walked toward the bar. Her body betrayed her will and she threw up, twice, in a bush. She hoped Agent Harris appreciated that sound. While she was bending down, she pulled out the pen in her pocket and began recording. Stella turned on the record app on her phone as she closed the distance to the restaurant. She knew having three different devices record their conversation was overkill, but she had to get his admission.
The warmth of the bar hit her face, making her skin hot and her stomach knot. Get it together. She did a quick survey and relaxed a little when she realized that Jamie wasn’t there yet. She walked up to the bar and leaned against it, watching as the bartender made his way over to where she stood.
“Hi.” Stella smiled, covering her nervousness. She knew that Agent Harris was listening to every word.
“Hey, what can I get you?” The bartender was wearing a very tight black t-shirt with the bar’s logo on it. Chadwick’s was an old bar in Georgetown and a little off the beaten path so it wasn’t as loud or crowded as the restaurants and bars on G Street. She was hoping she’d have a better shot of getting the conversation recorded.
“Layer cake, please?” Stella felt the acid in her stomach churn again. “And a water!” she called out as she looked toward the door.
Stella felt his presence immediately. She waited at the bar for him to sidle up next to her.
“What’re you drinking?” Jamie asked as he nudged her shoulder with his.
Her body froze, then she forced herself to relax. Her vengeance was tucked away for this meeting; she wouldn’t get him to talk if she said what she wanted to him.
Jamie’s face was amused. “I drive you to drink?”
“I think that’s pretty fucking clear.” If she was too nice, he’d know something was up too. She needed to dance along a fine line. Stella didn’t know what she was doing, but she was going to give it all she had. She nodded at the bartender when he put her glass of wine down in front of her.
“Yuengling,” Jamie ordered. “We sitting at the bar or a table?” He looked from the bartender to her.
“Let’s sit over there,” Stella pointed at a two-top that was sort of out of the way.
Jamie smirked. “You want to be that alone with me?”
“No, I don’t want to be alone with you at all, but I think I may be able to solve all this shit and we won’t have to be around each other anymore.” She’d been working on her strategy on how to put him at ease. She hoped like hell it worked, because it was all she had.
“Oh really?” Jamie’s eyes raked over her and stayed on her cleavage for a beat too long, just like she knew it would. “That’s a really nice shirt.”
“Thank you.” She pulled the front of her shirt up with her left hand and fake smiled at him.
“Now you’ve ruined my view.”
“Fuck you.”
The table was small, making their conversation spatially and physically intimate, Jamie’s long legs bumping up against hers.
“You cuss way more than you used to,” Jamie commented.
“Well, could you imagine if your fiancé died, then you were in a bombing, got shot, and then kidnapped? It caused my inner sailor to come out.”
“So what’s this resolution you think you have?” Jamie ignored her comment and leaned back in his chair, separating himself from her.
She leaned in. “Well, before I talk to you about what I’m willing to do to help you out, I have some questions. I need closure.”
“Closure from what?”
She squeezed her arms around her chest, which in turn pushed her boobs together, making a ruffling noise and blocking the microphone in her bra. “I know you told me why you shot me in Montana, but I want to know why you were there in the first place.” Leaning back, she exhaled slowly.
Jamie looked around for a while and Stella thought he was just going to ignore her question. “Why?”
Stella cleared her throat and pushed back from the table a bit. “The Jamie that I knew,” she cleared her throat again, “that I loved, wouldn’t have bombed that office.”
“Stella,” Jamie gazed intently at her, “I still love you.”
Stella’s eyes dropped. “No you don’t.”
“Yes, the fuck I do.” Jamie grabbed her right hand, hard. Shit, maybe I should’ve left the cast on. “I hate you too. You’ve put me in a very bad position with some folks that I owe a little money to.”
“They say it’s a thin line.” She looked at their hands together and tried to pull away from him.
“I’m sorry.” He followed her gaze to their hands.
“For which thing?” The hardness was threatening to choke her.
“For everything.” Jamie released her hand and took a sip of his beer.
“Well, that’s an easy apology. You could at least focus on one of the things.”
“I’m sorry for leaving you like that, Stella. For you thinking I was dead. For, what did you say? Ruining you for anyone else.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “We had a really good thing once and you were all that kept me going during a really dark time.”
“I’ll never be okay, Jamie. It’s your fault.”
“I…” Jamie’s eyes glazed over with emotion, but, just as quickly, he pulled it together. “Stella. My entire life changed when I went undercover. I did things… I saw things…” This time Jamie’s eyes filled with an emotion she’d seen before—remorse, along with grief.
“Jamie,” she whispered. She was sorry for both of them, that both of their lives had landed them sitting across from each other exchanging accusations, hating each other when they’d been happy and in love once upon a time.
“No. This is what you wanted, right?” Jamie raised his voice, quieting her. “I lied so many times over the last five years, I don’t even know who I am any more. During the time I was under, all I remembered was my love for you; that was the one true thing that I had and no one could take it from me. Sure, I was able to fuck a lot of chicks, but they weren’t you.”
“Oh, well I guess that makes it okay,” Stella said. “You know what I did while you were fucking all those chicks? Circling the fucking drain. I was dying on the inside because I had to live without you. I never came back from that.” Stella made sure her voice was low, hopefully low enough no one could hear what she said.
“Look, I’m sorry. I would do anything to make you…you again. To make me, me again. Us, us again.” He was leaning in and from the outside it looked like they were having an intimate conversation.
“Well, it’s too fucking late for that now, isn’t it? You say you love me, but the person you loved is gone. Just like the person I loved is gone. The person I loved wouldn’t have kidnapped me. I’ll never be the girl you loved again. This is all that remains.” She pointed at her scarred chest to emphasize her point. Those scars taunted her every fucking day.