“When all of this is over,” she starts, “we’ll invite Kate and Rafa, and Kev and Shelly. I can’t believe they never met.”
“Well… First, we weren’t serious, then we were apart, then it was too intense to let anyone near us.”
“Oh God, yes… We were having so much sex.”
“We still are, aren’t we?”
“That’s because we have nothing else to do all day. I doubt we’ll stick to three to four times a day every single day once we’re back to our regular lives.”
“Is that a challenge, Walker?”
“No, definitely not. Stop with the baby-making eyes right now and watch the screen.”
“Alright, you lightweight,” I tease with a low chuckle.
We’re not really focused on the anchorwoman and her partner on the screen, basking in the moment instead.
“I was serious when I said I want the most boring life ever after all this,” Andrea says.
“I agree. We’ve lived enough adventures. Let’s keep things breezy from now on.”
“Deal. First, we keep enjoying each other for a little longer. Then kids, a house, the white picket fence, and a golden retriever.”
“We’re not getting a dog.”
Her head shoots up, scowling. “What?! Why?”
“They’re not my thing. I prefer cats.”
“You’re allergic to cats.”
“I know. That’s some bad luck.”
She rolls her eyes, unimpressed, and returns her head onto me.
My phone dings with a Google alert, and we both read the notification, thinking this might be it. I added all the names from Becker’s clan, so we’d know the moment it happens. “It’s just about some company going public. One of the names must be mentioned in the article.”
Disappointed, she falls back onto me.
The first mention of the arrests comes thirteen minutes past 5 p.m. EST. I straighten up and read the article out loud. A movie producer in LA was just arrested by the FBI at his Beverly Hills mansion. Then, a couple of minutes later, an oil magnate at his office in Texas. Within the next five minutes, dozens of alerts pop up, and it doesn’t take long before the journalists begin to speculate. The timing of all those arrests has to mean something.
Not long after, the two news anchors on the screen interrupt their program for a special bulletin. “We’re receiving reports of multiple arrests across the country involving several highly influential individuals,” the man states. “At this time, the FBI has not released an official statement regarding the nature of these coordinated actions. What we can confirm is that at least twenty-five people have been taken into federal custody.”
The blonde next to him touches her ear, then says, “We have Henrietta, live in New York, who might give us some more information.”
The screen splits in two, and another woman appears on the other half. We immediately recognize the building she’s standing in front of, and Andrea’s hand comes to my thigh and squeezes with excitement. They have secured the perimeter around the entrance of Becker’s building, and several agents in uniform are keeping the curious bystanders away.
“As you can see, whatever is unfolding here appears to be extremely serious,” the reporter explains. “I’m standing at the corner of 70th Street and 3rd Avenue, where an arrest operation is still ongoing inside the building behind me. Given the timing, we can speculate this might be connected to the series of arrests that have been occurring over the past thirty minutes. According to sources on the scene, federal agents are here for Norman Becker, one of the country’s wealthiest individuals and the CEO of StarCare. At this point, the exact charges remain unclear, but we will continue to bring you updates as more information becomes available.”
She proceeds to give a rundown of the events until she’s out of things to say. Then, she interviews someone who witnessed the arrival of the authorities. He doesn’t have much to add, aside from the fact that there were at least twenty of them.
When a commotion occurs behind them, she leaves the witness behind as the camera follows her to the security perimeter. Several fully geared FBI agents are exiting the building, and Andrea’s hand clutches my thigh almost painfully.
I stop breathing when Special Agent Lewis appears on the screen in her gray pantsuit, dragging a handcuffed Norman Becker with her. With his disheveled hair and skewed shirt, he looks like he put up a fight. He’s staring at the ground, defeated.
I glance at Andrea, who looks more elated than I’ve ever seen her. This is on us. We fucking did it. We got that cunt arrested.
Relief like I’ve never experienced floods me.
