“We've had our eye on Cedric for a long time. We would have arrested him along with your father if we'd had evidence against him that would stick.”
“Essentially, what the FBI did, when they put away my father, was cut off one arm of an octopus. But Cedric is theactualoctopus.”
“I agree with that assessment. You don't contend though, do you, that your father was innocent of the charges?”
“No. My father made mistakes that ended up costing him, and my mother, and the rest of us a lot. I'm big enough to admit that his verdict was somewhat fair. But it's maddeninglyunfairthat Cedric hasn't been punished when his mistakes have been far worse and far more frequent. If the FBI had put Cedric in prison, he wouldn't be able to sell Rhapsodie's secrets now.”
“I wish we'd had enough evidence against Cedric to bring charges against him years ago. We didn't. We still don't. However, when Cedric asked you if your boyfriend might be interested in buying Rhapsodie's secrets, he created an opportunity for us.”
“What type of opportunity?”
“An opportunity for an agent to go undercover as the representative of someone in the perfume industry here in the US who has the finances to buy what Cedric's selling.”
“You'd be that agent?”
“I would.”
She narrowed her eyes, thinking. “Representing a fictional perfume industry magnate.”
“Who would, of course, insist on remaining anonymous. Yes.”
“And you'd collect audio and video evidence of Cedric violating the Economic Espionage Act?”
“Exactly.”
“Cedric is smart, and his right-hand man Vincent is even smarter. Why would they consider selling their secrets to you?”
“Because I'll gain their trust.”
“By?”
He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Posing as the boyfriend of someone they already trust.” He gave her a meaningful look.
Her heart kicked. In a flash, she comprehended why Agent Camden had come. After what they'd done to her father, he—they, the FBI—wanted her help. That was rich.
Enduring the emotional swings she'd been through since his arrival was like trying to balance on the deck of a ship pitching wildly from side to side. First, her panic over an allergic reaction. Then relief when she'd realized no one was going to go into anaphylactic shock on her watch. Followed by unease when he'd identified himself as FBI. Now defensiveness and disbelief as she tried to grasp his proposal. He was asking to pose as her boyfriend.
“Cedric has known for months,” he said, “that you have a wealthy boyfriend who works in the perfume industry. Right?”
“Yes.”
“But you've never posted your boyfriend's picture on social media.”
“I have one Instagram account that I use for the business. That's it.”
“As far as we can tell, you haven't shared Chaz's name or picture with anyone.”
It was true. This stranger from the FBI knew that Chaz was her boyfriend's first name and knew the contents of her social media.
Gemma relished dating. She was very pro-boyfriend. But every time she'd hurried to introduce a new boyfriend to her family, she'd lived to regret it after their break-up. At every family gathering, her brothers delighted in laughing about the ghosts of her boyfriends past. So, a few years ago, she'd decided to keep boyfriends separate from her family until her dating relationships successfully passed the six-month mark. She'd been dating Chaz for five months. “I like to keep the early stages of my romantic relationships private.”
“Chaz doesn't live here.”
“No. He lives in New York.”
“Which suits my purposes. And you're still on good terms with Cedric, despite what happened with your father.”
“Yes.”
