Single Lady Spy 01 - The End of Me

"That was smart. How will you reach them since her cell phone is still at the house, and the kids don’t have anything plugged into the Internet?"
    I hated that he had checked that. I hated that he knew my kids existed at all. "I gave her a pay-as-you-go cell phone. I am the only one with the number. I'll call when it's safe." The lies came fast.
    He glanced at me with a grin on his lips, "You think it will be safe one day?"
    I shook my head, "I don’t know. I won't have them live a half life here with me."
    He nodded, "You're a very good mother."
    I hated that he was nice to me. He nodded at the flight attendant. She came right over and smiled at me, "I'm Roxy. Can I get you a drink?" Of course she was a Roxy, foxy Roxy.
    "Red wine?" I asked.
    She batted her long lashes and listed the wines, "Cab, merlot, pinot, blends, countries, we have it all. You have a favorite?"
    I open my mouth but Servario spoke before I could, "She likes something called Apothic. You'll find some back there. I'll have a glass of the same."
    My cheeks flushed, "You drink Apothic?" I ignored the fact he knew what I drank.
    He shrugged, "I drink whatever. I'm not picky when it comes to red wine. I like most. Vodka and tequila though, very picky."
    I sat my bed back up into a seat and snuggled into it. She delivered our glasses of wine and smiled when she told us about dinner. "We are starting with French onion soup, then having a side of lyonnaise, and for the main we are having steak béarnaise with sweet potato straws, and finishing with chocolate mousse for dessert."
    He nodded, as if she told us which sandwiches were available from the vending machine, "Sounds good."
    "Soup before takeoff?" she asked.
    He gave her a thumbs up without looking at her or thanking her for the wine.
    I smiled at her, "Thank you. For everything."
    She smiled before she walked away.
    I could smell the food as soon as she was gone. The soup wafted through the jet.
    I sipped the wine and sighed. It was divine. It needed a little more air, but it was still the nectar of the gods.
    "Have you eaten much lately?" he asked still looking at his computer.
    I sipped, "No. Mostly alcohol and coffee. I had something yesterday, I don’t recall what it was."
    He looked at me and shook his head, "You're skinny and need to build back your muscles. You were in much better shape when I saw you working last."
    I scowled and sipped the wine, “You watched me then? You knew I was CI?”
    He didn’t look at me but I saw his lip lift into a half grin. He ignored my question when he spoke, "It's an easier life as a house wife; I suppose that was why you quit."
    My jaw dropped but I saw the grin grow across his face. "Not even funny."
    He looked at me and laughed honestly, flashing his dimples, "It seems like wretched work. You could have kept your job. You were good at it. We worried about you and your abilities, the entire time you worked. Everyone knew, one day you would be a great spy like your father. For what I was giving your husband, you could easily have afforded a nanny and a maid. "
    I scoffed and forced myself not to think about my dad or how great I might have been, "It wasn't that great of money."
    He cocked an eyebrow and looked back at the computer. He typed for a moment and then turned the screen to me, "This is your husband’s payroll bank account with me."
    When I saw the seventh number in the balance column, I pressed my eyes shut tight for a moment. When I opened them again, I looked harder at the number. "What the fuck is that?" I whispered. My voice wouldn’t work.
    "Watch your language," he said and turned the screen back to him, "That is the account, I paid your husband with. You understand what payroll is right?"
    I felt sick. Sick with rage and betrayal. I was coupon clipping and scrimping and saving like a madwoman to stay at home with my kids, and still have them in all their activities and sports.
    He looked up, "You can get angry about it later. Right now, the soup is here."
    He reached over and flipped down my tray for me. I was frozen. When she placed the bowl in front of me, my body reacted to the smell and sight. I nestled in the chair better to focus my energy around the soup and not the vibrating anger threatening me. The soup smelled divine. The crouton top was covered in crusty cheese.
    I cracked the top and dug my spoon in. The onions were cooked to perfection. They instantly broke up, instead of staying long and stringy. The first sip was