Dave smiles at me with genuine warmth.
“Good morning, Ms. Robertson. I hope everything is going well.” He’s not one for small talk, but I appreciate that. I prefer someone give it to me straight, particularly in a situation like this.
“We’re doing fine. I’d like you to meet my colleague, Damon Hawk. He’s also been very involved in our fraud situation. How’s the investigation going? Everything okay?” He never stops by unless he’s got a reason, so this isn’t a social call. Now that I’m looking closer, the detective seems slightly off from the last time I saw him. He looks nervous. Something’s up, and a shiver of trepidation raises the hair on the back of my neck.
“Good. Good. Nice to meet you, Mr. Hawk. Dave Marcos with Denver PD.” They shake hands, and Dave continues. “The investigation is progressing well. Unfortunately,” the dread comes rushing back, “we’ve hit a bit of a snag.”
“A snag? What kind of snag?” I ask, glancing at Damon, who rests his hand on my lower back, concern etched on his face.
“What kind of snag, Detective?” Damon queries, voice calmly confident as usual, even as his hand rubs circles on my lower back.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” he replies in a careful tone, “but Bill Nelson made bail and hasn’t shown up for his first court hearing. We have a warrant out for his arrest, but according to texts sent to hiswife—texts we have physical copies of—he’s blaming you, Ms. Robertson, and he’s made some threatening statements.”
He pauses, and Damon quickly interjects with questions, but I’m silent, frozen as fear overwhelms me. My breathing ramps up until I’m practically panting. I can hear my heart racing. Oh God, it’s happening again. Everything around me seems distant, like I’m wrapped up in a big cotton ball.
Not now! I stumble to the sofa and sink into it. I focus on my breathing, just like Damon showed me in the conference room the other day. In and out, slowly, deeply until the room comes back into focus. I remind myself to be brave, repeating it until my breaths even out and I feel present once more.
I’m suddenly so damn proud of myself. I just handled that panic attack all on my own, I tell myself, self-confidence flooding through me. Yay me!
The conversation finally breaks through the fog in my mind when I hear Damon’s furious voice demanding that Dave provide police protection. They face each other, red-faced, fists clenched, looking like they’re about to throw down in my office. They’re so involved in their testosterone-fueled fight for dominance that they’ve completely forgotten about me.
Fury surges through me, and I suddenly find myself completely fed up with men. I’m tired of them making decisions without my input and interfering in my problems without my permission. I’m done being ignored and minimized in every way possible while they make it all about themselves and their egos. I’m sick of being nervous and afraid. It’s all just too much.
“That’s enough,” I say firmly, but they keep talking.
They don’t even hear me.
“That’s quite enough.” I raise my voice, still not shouting.
Still, nothing. And that’s it. That’s the last straw for me.
“Enough!” I roar in frustration, striding directly toward them, years of fury and resentment rolling off me in waves, eyes lit up with rage.
Finally, they notice me, falling silent with startled expressions. At least the detective has the decency to look embarrassed. Damon just looks angry, but at this point, I don’t care, because I’m done.
“I think that’s quite enough,” I announce, now that I’ve got their attention. “Detective, I’ll handle my own security. The police have enough to worry about without following me around. Please keep me updated.” My tone is clipped, anger coloring every word. I’ve barely managed to rein in the fury in my voice, and it’s still coursing through my body like a tsunami. I whirl around to confront Damon, my frustration clear from the fire in my eyes.
“Damon, I’m perfectly capable of managing my own safety.”
He seems surprised by the intensity of my anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off because I’m done indulging men for today.
“Thank you for your input, but I believe you have another meeting to attend,” I grind out, making no attempt to be civil.
He looks taken aback, then slightly hurt. Nodding sharply, he turns on his heel and exits my office. He’s not happy, but I don’t care. He doesn’t get to control my life. I whirl around to look at Detective Dave, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Yeah, I think we’re done here. I’ll give you a call if we hear anything, Ms. Robertson,” Dave finishes nervously, already heading toward the door.
I snort and head back to my desk. I have some calls to make, and for once, I’m not worried about ruffling any feathers. I’m taking control of my own life.
“Mel?” I call out, and she appears in my office almost immediately, carrying her ever-present notepad and pen.
“Did you need something, Ms. Robertson?” she asks, looking me in the eyes, empathy shining like a beacon despite my evident frustration.
I take a deep breath and sit down at my desk.
“Could you please get the number for the personal security service that Jacob uses? Also, please send my regrets for the charity dinner this evening, but assure them that we’ll be sending a donation. Finally, please call me Joslyn. There’s no need to be so formal.” I give her a grateful smile as I finally get all my conflicting emotions reined in.
“No problem, Ms…um..Joslyn,” she replies, nodding and giving me a shy smile before heading back to her desk.
