She was

A spy. He was a spy. How could she have missed that? Had he mentioned it and she'd just forgotten that little piece of information? How was that possible? If he was a Russian spy... what did that make her?
The police sirens were all around her now. She thought she was just being paranoid after her first two subways trains had been swarming with police. She'd gotten off and chosen others. He'd told her to meet him at 7:00 on their normal street corner.
How had she gotten here in the first place? She was in love with not only a Russian spy but a married Russian spy. So many compromises she'd made in the moment when they hadn't seemed to matter now came rushing to the forefront of her mind.
It seemed like every corner she turned now had at least one police officer waiting. Why were they there? Did they know what she was carrying? Were they looking for her and her Russian spy?
When he had first started calling her Trixie she had thought it a cute pet name. When the instructions in the manilla envelope were addressed to Trixie she finally started putting the pieces together. She was a Russian spy... and an American working for the Criminal Justice Department. Again she wondered how she had arrived at such a place. How did she get tangled in all of this? A year ago such a fantastic scenario would only have had a place in the movie cinemas on in one of her books from the library and yet now she was the one carrying the manilla folder with documents in it and she was the one dodging police every chance she could.

Finally. He saw her out of the corner of his eye. What had taken her so long? Two policemen were crossing the street looking like they had a purpose. Play it cool. Trixie was here and she had the folder. And besides cops always look like they have a purpose when they know nothing. After all Trixie had been passing him information for almost a year now and no one suspected in the least.
When he'd first been asked to get to know her he hadn't expected her to fall in love with him and for him to have feelings in return. It had made it that much harder to rope her into all of this. That was his job so that was what was done.
As she approached he could see the panic and the fear coursing through her body. She wasn't the spy type- which is exactly what made her the perfect spy.
He was relieved to know that this was the last thing they would ask from her. After tonight she could decide what she wanted to do-she could call the shots for once.
Was it just him or did there seem to be more police on this corner than normal? Strange. There must be a drug bust going on somewhere down the street.
He turned and reached his arm out to her...