Opal Clemonte had a firm handshake and a tight jaw. The woman was in her early sixties but looked fifty, tops. Her blue suit was Chanel, her shoes Louboutin, and her eyes intelligent. Very. “It’s nice to see you, Nari. I hope things are going better for you this year.”
Nari forced another smile. “That’s kind of you.” She thought of the man before her as Quan, rather than Father; she had hoped to change that while they were working together. She took the seat he had motioned her toward, while hiding any bit of irritation. Now wasn’t the time to get into it with Quan’s boss. Just being in that office meant she’d bull frogged over her own boss, their handlers, their boss, and another boss. Yet another situation that would get her in trouble. “I’m sure it’s not a surprise that I’d like you to reconsider the disbanding of Force’s team.”
Quan’s dark eyes darkened even more. He was a couple of inches taller than her five-five, but he seemed much taller. Black hair, peppered with gray, framed his face. No emotion showed in his expression. “That seems unwise.”
Administrator Clemonte sat back slightly, as if giving Quan the lead in the conversation.
Nari kept her focus on Quan, who was sitting rather close to the other woman. Her instincts started to murmur, but she shut them down for now. Her folks had been divorced for eons, and her mother had remarried when Nari was a young teenager. Her mom and stepdad lived in LA, and she missed them every day. If Quan was dating his boss, that shouldn’t matter to her. But how freaking hypocritical.
She cleared her throat. “The team saved countless lives by preventing the bombings at the marathon last year, and we took down the Boston Mob. It’s a team that gets results, which is vitally important to the HDD.” Surviving as a secret branch of Homeland Security required results. A lot of them.
“Nari, your judgment is of concern to me.” Quan frowned, which was as damaging as a yell from another man. “You were temporarily assigned to Force’s team to give you distance and time away from headquarters, not to form attachments there. The year has concluded and it’s time to advance your career, which might be possible now.”
“It should’ve been possible in the first place,” Nari returned before she could stop herself.
The administrator stood gracefully, her hazel eyes direct. “I believe this is a personal discussion. Quan, we can continue the budget planning after the meeting with the secretary of defense this afternoon. Nari, I hope your new assignment goes well.” She gathered several of the dark-blue file folders off the table and turned on her three-inch heels, striding out of the office with a sense of impressive power.
Nari barely kept from crossing her arms.
Quan tossed a gold-and-burgundy Montblanc pen onto the table, where it rolled to a stop against a pad of paper. “Do you or do you not like working for the HDD?”
She knew better than to delve into the question with any sort of depth. “I do.”
“Good.” He pushed yet another blue file folder near her. “If you want to salvage your career, this is the team the administrator requires you to work with right now. The team is engaged in a high-stress case and requires counseling and monitoring.”
Sounded perfect for her. Except she didn’t want to leave her current team. “Force’s team is a good one.”
“That team doesn’t exist any longer. Either you want this assignment or you don’t.” He sat back, looking at his watch.
Her stomach dropped. So much for doing Angus and the team any good. “I’ll read through the file.”
“Good.” The tone of dismissal was hard to miss. “I should warn you, though. The team leader is Vaughn Ealy.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding?”
“No. The team needs you, and this is a good opportunity to show the administrator that the two of you have put the past behind you.” He lowered his chin, his gaze piercing. “Vaughn has agreed, so there’s no reason for you to act like an injured female.”
Heat flashed down her back so quickly, she nearly yanked off her jacket. “An injured female?”
Quan would never stoop to rolling his eyes, but he came close. “Please. You created a PR nightmare and nearly derailed both of your careers.”
“I was doing my job,” she snapped, in one second going from a tough HDD agent to a little girl wanting her father’s support. “Agent Lisa Barksow was at serious risk of a mental breakdown and needed treatment. It wasn’t my fault that the media got hold of the story and blew it out of proportion.” The young agent had been with their team and had been on the edge, but Vaughn had disagreed, so she’d had no choice but to go over his head to force Barksow into treatment.
Quan waved his hand in the air as if batting away a fly. “Enough. You each have your own versions of what happened, and the truth is probably in the middle. Vaughn was your team leader and you should never have gone over his head.”
She drew in a breath. “You know I took an oath and have to reveal if anybody is a danger to themselves or others. I was trying to help her.”
“Well, she’s no longer with the agency, and both you and Vaughn were demoted. Let’s get past it, shall we? Show you’re a team player, do your job, and do not embarrass me again.”
“I wouldn’t think of it, Quan,” she said, realizing she would never call him “Father.” She stood and nodded, wanting more than anything to argue with him, but it wouldn’t do any good. So she left, having failed to save Angus’s team. What was going to happen to everybody?
Also, the “what if ” of her attraction to Angus swirled around in her mind and landed in her body. While they’d worked together, seen each other every day, there had always been a “what if” or a “maybe” between them, even though they argued most of the time.
It hurt to say goodbye to that “what if.”
Chapter Five
Angus finished off a burger from the fast-food joint as he drove his truck through an established neighborhood in the Georgetown area, with town houses lining both sides of the street. “Which one is it?”
