Setting his pen down, he links his fingers together on his desk. “You want to explain why these guys ran right past you and flushed weeks of planning and money down the toilet?”
Leaning my elbows on the arms of the old, stained chair, I pivot forward. “Sir, a civilian walked onto the scene, and when they saw her, I tried to protect her identity by hiding her.”
His jaw ticks. “Except that while you were hiding her, they picked up her ID off the sidewalk.”
“I, and she herself, were unaware she had dropped her ID until after they were gone and she was looking for it.”
“Where was your fucking head, Abbot? Or should I ask which head were you thinking with?”
Keeping calm, I clear my throat. “I assure you, sir, it was a tactical error on my part. I did not see her drop her clutch.”
“Is that what I tell my boss? That my agent in charge had his eyes on a tight little ass instead of the job?” His head is getting redder as he speaks.
Somehow, his calling Ms. Harlow a tight little ass doesn’t sit well with me, and I grind my teeth together to stop myselffrom saying something I shouldn’t. If this little screw-up isn’t enough to fuck up my chances of promotion, telling my boss to go fuck himself surely will.
“With all due respect, sir, ensuring the safety of the public should come first in situations like these. I was watching the altercation between the subjects, and when Ms. Harlow stepped around the corner, I acted in her best interest.”
The vein next to his eye pulses under the skin as he stares at me. “You want to explain the request for an agent to be placed in her home? Expedited?”
“I thought it would be obvious, sir, if they have her ID, they know where she lives.” I’m dangerously close to being insubordinate, and I need to rein it in.
His breath through his nose comes faster. “Drive-bys sporadically throughout the day should be sufficient. Using money from an already tight budget is not easily justified.
“Nor is asking special favors from judges.”
Apparently, he knows I called in a favor to get an order for security on Ms. Harlow expedited.
“I respectfully disagree, sir. If her life is in danger, or even worse, if something happens to her between drive-bys, the family will be justified in suing. I’m not sure what budget that money will come from.”
I’ll never tell him that Ms. Harlow ensured I attempt to disrupt her life as much as possible on a matter of principle with her snarky little attitude.
However, I will keep ignoring the need to see her again that keeps swirling in my head.
He stares at me again, a battle of wills ensues as I let what I said sink in. He knows I’m right.
Leaning back in his chair, he sighs. “Fine. Congratulations, Special Agent Abbot, until further notice you are Ms. Harlow’s protection detail.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
All the wind in my revenge sails dies, and I feel like I’m bobbing on a churning sea that’s about to pull me under. Talk about backfiring. I stare at him. Any argument I might use is already dead in the pipe based on my aforementioned argument for Ms. Harlow needing protection.
Lifting my index finger to point at my chest, I jerk my head back. “I can’t be her detail. I’m in the middle of a case, stepping away right now would prove detrimental.”
Shit!
Fuck!
He tosses a piece of paper across his desk, it lands right on the edge, and I see the judge signed off on the protection detail below my signature as the requester. “Seeing as how it is so important for an agent to monitor Ms. Harlow twenty-four-seven, maybe you can find a way to do both.”
“There has to be another agent who can be her detail.”
“From whose budget, Abbot? You want to put Sanders on her?”
The double interpretation of that question has me fisting my hands on my legs. I don’t want Sanders anywhere near her, that fucker would land us with a sexual harassment suit so fast it would make our heads spin.
After last night, there is no way in hell that I could ever see Ms. Harlow putting up with, much less falling for Sanders’ advances; she would eat him for breakfast. But fuck, just the thought of him being anywhere near her sends my irritation through the roof.
Grabbing the order from his desk, I stand and walk out without another word. The door is not all the way closed before I hear him typing again, like the conversation didn’t happen.
