Spring Break

Chapter 5

Fiona's apartment, New York City. Monday morning, March 21, 2005.

The alarm clock buzzed and for a rare moment Neal Caffrey wished he was a kid again. Back then his mom had let him sleep in and skip school on his birthday.

Fiona stirred, then reached for the clock on the nightstand. As Neal appreciated the view, he had to admit there were definite advantages to being an adult. Fiona smiled at him, and his return grin was interrupted by a beep from his phone. It beeped again as he reached for it, and he saw three text messages:

Happy Birthday, kiddo.

Breakfast in 15 minutes.

Pls be dressed.

Neal jumped out of bed and ran for his duffle bag. He'd packed one of his vintage suits so he could go directly to work from Fiona's. "We're about to be invaded," he warned.

His girlfriend and fellow student in Columbia's graduate art program laughed as she reached for a robe. "It's not my fellow Brits hoping to retake the colonies, is it?"

"Not that type of invasion." He kept a toothbrush and razor in her bathroom, so all he grabbed now was clothing.

Fiona followed as he dashed toward the bathroom. "You're annoyed, rather than worried. Is it someone from the FBI?"

After the ordeal with Keller recently, he should have been more clear. "More annoying than work. It's Henry."

"Your cousin?" Fiona had met Henry Winslow on his last visit to New York. "I thought you liked him."

Neal turned on the shower, and as he waited for the water to get hot explained, "Normally, yeah. But we spent the last four days trying to outsmart each other at the Burke family cabin. I thought he'd give me a break today, but no such luck. He's a firm believer in starting birthdays with a big breakfast."

Fiona glanced toward her kitchen in dismay. Cooking wasn't her strength. "Most mornings I make do with a cup of tea," she reminded him.

"Don't worry about the food. He'll bring it with him." Neal sped through his shower and wondered what other surprises Henry would have in mind today. He couldn't do much, right? After all, it was Monday. They both had to work. They were adults now. Professionals.

As soon as he stepped out of the shower, Fiona stepped in. Although the apartment was charming, a downside was how long it took to get hot water. They'd learned it was best to keep the shower running once it finally reached the right temperature. When the doorbell rang, Fiona was drying her hair, and Neal was buttoning his shirt. He opened the door, but remained standing in the doorway, arms crossed. "Did you consider we might want privacy this morning?"

Henry pushed past Neal, arms filled with canvas bags. "Nah." He set most of the bags on Fiona's tiny dining table and started pulling out containers of food. "Courtesy of June's chef."

"Emil didn't have to do that," Neal protested. "We could have gone out for breakfast. There are plenty of places to choose from."

"Speak for yourself," Henry said as he grabbed a still-warm croissant and smeared it with honey. "No restaurant can beat this spread. Good morning," he added to Fiona as she joined them.

They all sat down to eat, and Neal contributed an absent-minded comment occasionally as Henry pelted Fiona with questions. Of course Henry took care that it didn't come across as an interrogation. Fiona would assume he was merely expressing an interest in her life. But with a master's degree in psychology, Henry was an expert at getting into your head and learning more about you than you would have imagined possible. It was actually a lot like the way a con artist operated.