Compromised

Happy Friday Readers! I’m popping in to give you a long overdue Friday Fictioneers! We’re returning to the present with Nick and Emmeline and the startling revelation that Em is a spy. The tensions are only going to keep building for now. Enjoy!

Friday Fictioneers prompts are provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Copyright J. Hardy Carroll

Compromised

Nicholas’s mind was reeling.

“I’m a spy, Nicholas.”

It didn’t compute. The sweet, kind, adorably girlish at times woman he had come to know and love could not be a spy.

She’d take him to meet her CIA contact, she told him.

They rounded the corner. Emmeline froze suddenly. The street was covered in firetrucks, ambulances, and police. An apartment building was engulfed in flames. “Stay back!” ordered a policeman in a bright vest.

“But my uncle lives in that building!” Emmeline said with real fear in her voice.

“I’m sorry Miss,” he said. “No one made it out alive.”

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Polite Conversation

Readers…I skipped last week’s Friday Fictioneers! I’m sorry about that. To make it up to you, here’s a continuation of Nick and Emmeline’s story using  WordPress’s Daily One Word Prompt: Focused.

The usual Friday Fictioneers post will follow after.

Enjoy!

Doughnut Vault, Chicago. Via Pinterest.

Polite Conversation

Nick couldn’t get another word out of her until they reached the little bakery a couple blocks down the street. Emmeline smiled and laughed and leaned on him when her injury gave her pain, looking for all the world as if she hadn’t just told him someone was trying to kill her.

He quickly gave up asking her anything about it, but watched her closely. She smiled with her usual brightness, but her eyes had a sharpness in them he hadn’t seen before. She scanned every street corner, window, doorway and alley. Though she leaned on him, she seemed poised for flight.

The arrived, and he helped her into her chair before ordering them both a coffee from the bubbly waitress. As she hurried away to fill their order, he took Emmeline’s hand in his and smiled. “Now, are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

Emmeline returned his smile and gave his hand a squeeze. “I don’t think I have much choice.”

Nick’s smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He stared into her eyes, searching for an explanation. “I don’t understand,” he said, half to himself.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” answered Emmeline. She released his hand as the waitress returned with their coffee. “Constantine is a man from my past. A man with a grudge. I thought I had lost him, but it seems I was mistaken.”

“Can’t you just go to the police?”

“They won’t help.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t prove any of this.”

Nick shook his head, baffled. “What about a restraining order?”

Emmeline gave a short laugh. “We’d have to find Constantine first, and trust me, no one wants to do that.”

Nick ground his teeth. “What kind of ex is this guy?” His voice rose in volume.

Emmeline covered his hand with hers. “He’s not an ex. I told you.”

Nick took a deep breath through his nose. “Then what is he?”

Emmeline hesitated for a few moments and Nick braced himself, certain he wasn’t going to like whatever she said next. Her eyes again darted to the surrounding buildings and street, and the tables next to them with old men reading the paper and hipsters taking pictures of their coffee for Instagram. She bit her bottom lip and studied Nick’s face, as if trying to come to a decision.

Just when Nick could hardly stand it any longer she leaned forward and said calmly and in soft tones, “He’s an Armenian weapons dealer.”

A Change in the Wind

Happy Friday my dear Readers! It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again, hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week’s photo is provided by Sandra Cook (and I really love it!). Today I am continuing the love story of Emmeline and Nicholas. If you missed last week’s story, you may want to check it out here before reading this one. Enjoy!

Copyright: Sandra Cook

A Change in the Wind

“Are you going to go up Sir, or do you plan on standing outside all day?”

Nick jumped then shrugged, giving the doorman a sheepish smile. “I don’t want to disturb her, Miles.”

The impeccable doorman barely blinked before saying, “Miss Price always has time for you, Mr. Ramsey.”

Nick swallowed hard as he looked up the picturesque building, the yellow-white stone gleaming in the sun, with its Grecian columns and blooming flower boxes, feeling out of place. They hadn’t spoken since the strange moment in the graveyard, but now he knew Emmeline was hiding something from him.

And that changed everything.