Prologue
Sean Fitzpatrick
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Come in!” I closed my laptop because my trust had been irrevocably shattered. I trusted no one and was on the verge of becoming paranoid, which wasn’t completely a bad thing in my business.
My assistant, Byron Haight, was standing in the doorway of my office with a manila folder in his right hand as his left rested on the doorknob. His nervous expression had me fighting to keep a wicked smile at bay. I wondered if he was finally going to come clean regarding what he’d been doing behind the scenes. He was starting his new job soon. Seemed smarter to quit one before starting another.
Byron was hesitant to come closer, as well he should be. “Are they ready for my signature?” I pointed to the folder he was white knuckling.
We were sending personalized monthly letters to our clients, along with our most recent legislative analysis of bills sitting in congressional committees. I’d been waiting for the letters all day.
Every month, we sent personalized letters to alert our clients to the potential pitfalls associated with any legislation targeting the LGBTQIA+ community’s best interests. The administration’s recent attack on diversity, equity, and inclusion had us meeting ourselves coming and going. I hadn’t spent so much time on The Hill since opening my lobbying firm six years ago.
“I have some news, Sean.” Byron opened the folder and produced a white envelope I was sure contained his resignation letter.
“You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question.
He approached the desk and handed me the envelope, which I dropped on the blotter without opening it. I reached for the folder in his hand, finding my favorite pen to sign the letters.
Byron handed it over and stared at the envelope as if he was waiting for me to read the contents and throw myself on the ground in despair. I was far from doing anything of the sort.
“I’m sorry to leave right now, Sean, especially with the changes coming with staff turnover. This should go without saying, but I’m afraid our hookups are over as well. I know things between us have never been serious or exclusive. You’ll only have the inconvenience of finding a new assistant who will also take a position under your desk. Iwillmiss working with you. There was never a dull moment, but I need to move on.” Byron even jutted out his lip in a fake pouting expression, the motherfucking bald-faced liar.
I’d been waiting for this discussion for two months, ever since I found out the asshole was also fucking a reporter atThe Conservative Pulse, a right-wing newspaper that was published online but had a deep reach inside the walls of Congress and the White House.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, it had also been brought to my attention that Byron was using his corporate card to pay for unauthorized dinners, lunches, and a beach house in Tampa that I knew nothing about. He’d told me he was going to see his ailing grandmother in North Platte during that vacation. How fucking stupid did he think I was?
I nodded with an equally fake sorrowful expression and went about signing the cover letters. “I’ll miss you, Byron. I know you’ll have great success working for Angelus Pharmaceuticals. When’s your last day?”
When I finished signing the letters, I closed the folder and stood from my desk, walking around to take his arm to escort him out. In my mind, the matter was over and done.
Byron’s expression was one of shock. “How’d…? How’d you…? You know where I’m going? I just accepted the job yesterday. How do you know where I’m going?”
That was lie number two.
I wanted to be finished with this fake bullshit because it was after quitting time on Friday evening, and I wanted to get my weekend started without Byron. I had hoped maybe I’d have one more encounter with the bastard on his knees under my desk before it was done. Clearly, that was not to be.
“Because, Byron, as you should know, nothing happens in this town without my knowledge. You accepted the job a month ago. You’ve only stuck around here in hopes of learning information you could shop to the tabloids on your way out the door.”
I slowly raised my eyebrow to wait for his sputtering attempt at defending his actions, though whatever his excuse, I wouldn’t be swayed. The one quality I valued in my employees more than any other was loyalty.
Sadly, that wasn’t unlike the current sentiment in Washington, but the administration had twisted loyalty into fealty. It was something I couldn’t understand and wouldn’t do.
“I wasn’t looking for a job, Sean.Theycame tome.” Byron tried the innocent approach, which I didn’t buy for a minute.
He was spewing bullshit like a manure spreader. From what I’d heard, he’d papered the town with his résumé.
Byron had no idea I’d been aware of his actions and betrayal for months. I was giving him enough rope to hang himself, and he’d just tightened the noose enough to strangle.
“I know that’s not true, but it doesn’t matter. I never imagined you’d have trouble finding a job, Byron. And since you’re in such high demand, I don’t expect you to stay the usual two weeks most employees give when exiting a position. I don’t appreciate that you waited so long to tell me, but I wish you the best of luck.”
I opened my office door and grinned at the assistant I’d requested from the company assistant pool. He stood next to Darren Horne, the head of security for The Fitzpatrick Group.
Darren had three banker’s boxes ready for Byron to fill with his personal effects. His laptop had been confiscated the moment he came into my office, and I knew Darren would get Byron’s phone before escorting him from the 1300 Eye Street building, where our offices were located.
Byron glanced toward his desk and, upon seeing Darren and the new assistant, turned to me with a fierce snarl. “You bastard. You’re going to do this tome? You’re going to embarrass me and have me escorted out of the building? I’ve worked my ass off for you, and—”
