She gestures for me to continue, faux-humble. “Flattery will get you everywhere, please continue.”
“Looks like Stone has something he needs your help on. As soon as you’re wrapped on Donovan, go ahead and check in with him. Also, I’ve got someone I need you to look into—something politics-adjacent. Could be nothing, but a name landed on my desk that I need more info on. Should be a quick file pull.”
Her brow quirks. Politics and organized crime have a long, intimate history in this city. “Go on,” she says. “You have effectively piqued my curiosity.”
“Pippa Saint James. She’s an executive assistant in Senator Lowell Cramden’s office.”
For a fraction of a second, she looks blindsided. All the color drains from her face, and she’s slow to respond. Luna Steeledoesn't get flustered—her mind moves too fast to pause on anything as inconvenient as nerves.
“Pippa Saint James,” I say again, casually. “Is that a name you recognize? I’m tracking a lead. She or Cramden might have some overlap on a case I’m working.”
There it is again, just a flicker. Too quick for anyone else to notice.
I tilt my head. “You okay?”
Her expression smooths back into place. She looks up at me. “Yeah—I mean—that name! Pippa?” She forces a laugh. “Just has me picturing royalty, someone with pearls and a clipboard. Like she was born in a tiara, sipping tea while delegating world peace. Probably with a swan as a pet.”
I hold her gaze a beat longer than necessary. Five years working together has taught me Luna’s tells, and she was definitely caught off guard by my request and I clocked it.
I chuckle to put her back at ease. I’m not pursuing this right now. “Something tells me pearls aren’t your thing.”
“Never! Opal is too neutral of a color for me, you know that.”
“Good point. Besides, I like your bright wardrobe, brings some life to this place! Text me if you find anything. I owe you a coffee.”
“More than a coffee! Talk to Hale about getting me a raise, Cross.” An ongoing bit.
“If anyone deserves it, it’s you, Steele,” I say as I leave her desk.
I file her reaction where I keep things I don’t yet understand but know better than to ignore. Luna Steele is fast, composed, and careful. So, when something slips, it matters. She’s definitely heard of—or even knows—Pippa Saint James.
I’ll see what lands on my desk later today. And I’ll be paying attention to what doesn’t.
FOUR
catalyst
Pippa
Friday Afternoon, Day 2
Senator Cramden’s office smells like burnt coffee and desperate ambition. The lights are too bright, the air too cold, and the carpet too old to ever look clean. His staff calls it “the heart of conservative leadership.” I call it a holding pen for people who like the sound of their own voices.
I’m on my third latte—I didn’t get any sleep last night.Johndid exactly what I needed, helping me clear my mind after McCarter. And he managed to quell the flame Enzo Luciano sparked. I feel sated and calmer. I’ve barely thought about him today.
Or so I’m telling myself.
As I sit in this office, my thoughts wander. I’m bored and tired. My desk sits in the open area outside the senator’s office, where junior staffers like me answer calls, schedule meetings, and pretend we don’t hear what’s said behind closed doors.
I’m finishing the energy brief that’s been sitting on my desksince last week, trying to make the senator sound informed without giving him too much credit. It’s a delicate balance. I keep my government clearance and access to politicians by staying useful and unremarkable. The quiet aide who always has the right file, the right answer, the right smile.
My guise is a function of just that: trust-fund baby who isn’t ambitious enough to get ahead but is wealthy enough to get paid scraps and still sport designer labels. I make sure most people think I’m a pretty face, a silly woman who is simply excited to be around powerful people. The useful diversity hire.
My diversity being that I don’t have a penis.
The elevator dings, and a staffer from Senator Weller’s office passes my desk. I’ve seen him before—Jason, I think.Or maybe Jake?
He leans on the partition with that practiced Hill charm. “Hey, Pippa. You ever let a guy buy you a drink after saving democracy all day?”
