At the end, instead of clapping like a normal person, Rick arched an eyebrow and said, “You know your stuff. The Library of Congress could really use you.” He shrugged, leveling me with a knowing smile. “Too bad.”
“It is too bad,” I agreed, nodding. “But there are over one hundred thousand libraries in the U.S. alone. If you’re going to ruin my chances at all of them, I suggest you get started.” I pointed toward my purse on the floor. “I still have the pictures you sent me on my phone in case you deleted yours. I also have surveillance video of you inside Janice’s office with an envelope of pictures.”
That last part was a lie, one plucked and modified from Lisa Montgomery’sDirty Pretty Lies.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked.
“I’m sure your wife would be very interested to know more about you,” I said, glancing over his shoulder.
His jaw pulsed. “Watch yourself, Paige. We wouldn’t want anyone to overhear us.”
Janice’s clear voice rang out over the buzzing crowd into a microphone, but my thoughts were so focused on truth, I didn’t immediately tune in.
“Does she know about you and Mademoiselle Goldfinch?” I whispered.
It had been all over the news, Riley and a slew of others who worked in politics, all on the pages of Mademoiselle Goldfinch’s little black book. If I had to guess, Rick’s name could be found inside, too, written carefully by Rose Cleary, queen of yellow bird tag, herself. Why else would he be so interested in finding out where she’d been? I hadn’t known I was right about any of it, though, until Rick’s eyes flashed murderous. Bingo.
“...six weeks,” Janice was saying, and it was followed by a crash of applause.
Had I missed the announcement? I looked to Nicole next to me, as well as the familiar faces of the other interns dotted among D.C.’s finest, but they all stared toward the front of the room, many of them standing on the balls of their feet in expectation. Charlotte met my gaze across the narrow aisle from her perch on the stool, a question in her dark eyes.
But it was like a dam had lifted, and I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t.
I stepped in closer to Rick’s ear so he’d be sure to hear me. “Does your wife know you have a child?”
His eyes widened. A mess of emotions played across his face—confusion, shock, disgust—before it settled on one that shook through his entire face and throbbed a vein in his forehead.
“You’ll need to keep that quiet,” he growled.
“Or what?” I asked. “You’ll blackmail me again?”
“No.” A mad grin crossed his face that blasted a chill up the back of my neck. From inside his suit jacket, he pulled a black book with a yellow bird embossed on the cover. “Worse.”
“So it is with great honor that I announce the intern who showed the most promise, the most passion, and the most dedication, and who will be offered the coveted position as the new librarian at the Library of Congress,” Janice continued, “should he or she choose to accept that position.”
Rick flipped the book open, thrusting it into my face, and my whole world tilted.
Sam Cleary. The handwriting was flowery, so obviously feminine. My gaze tracked down the page from his name, my mouth souring with every word I read. Names of favorite girls, favorite sexual positions, and dates...dates that were less than two weeks ago after we... I swallowed. After I had given myself to him, mind, body, and heart. Oh my god.
“The new addition to the Library of Congress is...” Janice continued.
Tucked into the page were date-stamped pictures that showed too much naked skin, and I backed away from all of it.
Through the double doors at the back of the room burst three police officers, their heads swiveling right and left. They separated throughout the room, their eagle eyes sweeping over every face they passed, their movements tense and swift. The crowd at the back of the room parted for them, but those in the front hung on Janice’s next words.
Rick cut his gaze to the police and back at me, his nostrils flaring. “Did you tell anyone? About us?”
I looked at him, calm and cool even though my heart, though cracked and wounded, thrashed between my ears. All my life it had been me squirming under the guilt of having a child with a married man, of ruining my relationship with my parents, of almost believing their wicked label they’d given me, but I was done after this one final lie.
“I told the police everything.”
