even if the three of them weren’t already bonded by so many years of BFF-hood. She loved Travis, too, for setting them up so comfortably.
The insidious thought sneaked in before she could block it.
Damn! Had he preplanned this whole maneuver—leveraged whatever debt this guy Carlo owed him to preempt Kate’s nagging guilt over abandoning her friends? Was he that focused, that determined to achieve his objective?
Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Major Travis Westbrook never skimmed down a runway and lifted off without extensive preflight planning. Nor would he hesitate to deploy all available countermeasures to deflect or defeat enemy fire. Still, Kate had to admit he’d orchestrated a pretty impressive op plan for separating his primary target from its outer defenses.
Travis texted Carlo between drinks and dinner to let him know Ms. Dawn McGill and Ms. Callie Langston would arrive at his family’s villa the day after tomorrow, assuming it was still available. The Italian Air Force officer texted back confirming availability. The same text provided both directions and the code for the front gate.
Travis shot them to Callie’s and Dawn’s cell phones before the four of them settled in for a truly remarkable meal. Abandoning any inclination to count either carbs or calories, Kate ordered a grilled-peach-and-buffalo-mozzarella salad followed by a main course of lobster ravioli in a sinfully rich cream sauce.
She would have quit at that point if Dawn hadn’t talked her into sharing a spun-sugar-and-limoncello confection that depicted an iconic scene from Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling. She felt almost sacrilegious forking into the portrayal of Adam’s hand reaching up to touch God’s. After the first taste, though, she and Dawn attacked the edible art with the same fervor as the Visigoths who’d sacked Rome in 410 AD.
It was almost 10:00 p.m. when their server cleared the table and poured the last of the sweet, sparkling asti spumante Travis had ordered to accompany dessert. Another countermeasure, Kate guessed, to prevent a final round of hostile fire from either Dawn or Callie. If so, it didn’t work.
When Kate indicated she wanted to talk to Travis for a few moments, her friends waged a short but spirited battle to pay for their share of dinner. Defeated, they pushed away from the table. If Travis thought he’d bought a reprieve with the astronomically expensive dinner, he soon learned otherwise. Dawn took only a few steps, turned back and aimed her forefinger like a cocked Beretta.
“Do not forget, Westbrook. Callie and I are only a phone call away. All Kate has to do is hit speed dial, and we’re there.”
“Good to know that hasn’t changed in all the years I’ve known the Invincibles.”
His obvious sincerity angled Dawn’s chin down a notch. Just one. The mulish set to her mouth, however, suggested she wasn’t ready to quit the field until Callie bumped her hip.
“He got the message. Time for us to make an exit.”
“I guess I deserved that,” Travis commented as the two women wove their way through the candlelit tables.
“Actually, they let you off easy. You don’t want to know the various surgical procedures Dawn performed on you in absentia.”
“Most, I would guess, done with a rusty pocketknife.”
“In her more generous moments. Other times she went to work with a hacksaw.”
“Ouch.”
His exaggerated shudder earned him a faint smile. He had to fight the urge to follow it up by reaching across the table and folding her hand in his.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he told her instead.
“About?”
“About being grateful to them. They were there for you when you needed them.”
When he couldn’t be.
Facing his wife across the table, Travis acknowledged that he’d abrogated his role as a husband too many times. When the Bank of America promoted Kate in recognition of her adroit handling of foreign investments during the recession that panicked markets around the world, he’d been swatting mosquitoes at a remote airstrip in Kenya. And just months ago, while she’d agonized over whether to accept the offer from the World Bank and move to DC, he’d been freezing his ass off at a classified location he still couldn’t talk about. Time now, he vowed silently, to realign his priorities and reclaim a place in her life.
Assuming she would let him. He’d cracked the door open by getting her to spend this time with him, but the determined expression that now settled over her face suggested he’d have his work cut out to push it open all the way.
“What did you want to talk about?” he asked her.
“We need to discuss the ROE.”
“Are we speaking your language or mine?”
ROE in her world stood for return on equity, a formula that assessed a company’s efficiency at generating profits for its stockholders. In his, ROE stood for the rules of engagement outlining the type of force that could be employed in various situations.
“In this instance, they represent the same thing. We need a set of parameters that define what we should and shouldn’t do during this time together.”
Travis didn’t much like the sound of that. “I figured we would play it by ear.”
“Right. Like you did with the villa? Tell me you just pulled that idea out of the air.”
“Okay, I might have scoped out a few possible courses of action...”
“Exactly. And if I remember the principles of war correctly, the purpose of a course of action is to achieve an objective.”
She didn’t add at all costs, but the implication hung heavy on the air. His brows snapping together, Travis shook his head.
“We’re not at war, Kate. At least I hope to hell we’re not.”
“No, we’re not. Now. And I want to keep it that way.”
“All right,” he conceded, not particularly happy with the direction this conversation was taking. “Let’s hear your ROE.”
She raised a hand and ticked them off with a decisiveness that told him she didn’t intend to negotiate. “One, separate bedrooms. Two, we share all expenses. Three, we decide on the itinerary together. Four, no changes unless by mutual consent. Five, no surprises of any size, shape or dimension.”
He took a moment. “Okay.”
“That was too easy,” Kate said, frowning. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you want to add to the list?”
“I think you’ve covered the essentials.”
Her frown deepened. “This won’t work if we’re not honest with each other, Trav.”
“I am being honest. I can live with those ROE. As long as you understand I intend to focus most of my energy on number
