MONDAY MORNING, Evangeline flashed her badge at the security guard and made her way to the elevator bank. Once on her floor, she walked the long corridor and yanked open the glass door to her department. After entering her cubicle, she tossed her handbag on her desk and fired up her computer. She was about to grab a cup of coffee from the break room when her phone rang with a call from her boss.
“Hey, Jim.”
“Got a second?”
“Sure.”
“Swing by.”
As she weaved her way toward his office, a normally friendly coworker turned away while another muttered hello, his cheeks turning bright red. That was weird.
She knocked on Jim Tate’s open door and her gaze jumped from him to the woman sitting across the desk from him. “You wanted to see me?”
“Come on in and shut the door.” He wasn’t smiling.
A chill crept across her shoulders. She closed the door and settled into the second guest chair as he turned his computer monitor toward her. Jim introduced the employee from Human Resources while Evangeline’s focus flitted between him and the paused video on the screen. “What’s that?”
Without answering her question, Jim tapped the “play” button and the video started. A few seconds into it, her brain stuttered to a stop. An older man and a younger woman—both wearing masks—were screwing in a dimly lit room. “Oh, my God.”
Jim fast-forwarded through a couple of minutes while the man screwed the woman from behind.
“Is that Uncle Charlie?” she asked, struggling to understand why she was being made to watch this.
Jim shook his head.
While the man grunted and groaned, the brunette made a series of high-pitched squeaky sounds, like a cheap porn star.
“Sit on me,” the man grunted out. “I want to suck your tits.”
Evangeline glanced at her boss and the woman from HR. Both looked as uncomfortable as she felt.
Once the couple had repositioned themselves, the woman removed the man’s mask. To Evangeline’s absolute horror, the man in the video was Birdie Caraway.
And the woman he was screwing was not his wife.
Birdie started with the dirty talk before he covered one of her nipples with his mouth and sucked. Evangeline’s guts hurt. Having seen more than enough, she turned away.
Jim stopped the tape and stared at her. “What the hell is that?”
“No idea. I’m not his keeper.”
“That’s you in the video, isn’t it?”
Evangeline’s pulse kicked up, but she refused to panic. Clearly, this was a terrible misunderstanding. “No, Jim. That’s not me.”
“It sure as hell looks like you.”
“It’s some brunette, but it’s not me.”
“Look at her face.” Jim started the video again. Several agonizing seconds passed while Evangeline stared at the masked stranger with long, dark hair.
“That’s not me, but whoever it is planted a camera in that room. That woman’s keeping her face hidden in the shadows. Plus, she’s wearing a mask.”
“Evangeline,” said the woman from HR. “You have a personal relationship with Mr. Caraway, correct?”
“He’s my sister’s dad.”
“And your former stepdad.”
Thinking about sex with him nauseated her. “Yeah, so?”
The woman cleared her throat before asking Jim to hop on Facebook. “That’s you at the Caraway holiday party last weekend. You and Birdie look like you’re having an intimate moment.”
Some woman Evangeline didn’t know had posted a gazillion photos from the party, including several of Evangeline and Birdie, his arm around her while the photographer snapped pictures for the magazine. The caption read: “Too cozy for comfort.”
Evangeline’s face heated. She wasn’t guilty of anything, but she was furious with herself for not being more aware of her surroundings.
“This will stain the bureau’s reputation,” Jim grumbled.
Evangeline’s heart raced, but getting indignant would only make her look guiltier. The agency’s unwritten rule—‘Don’t embarrass the Bureau’—permeated her every action. “Do what you’ve gotta do. Like I said, that’s not me.”
“We have to put you on administrative leave, pending the outcome of our investigation,” said the HR rep.
Fuck. Fuck me. “Are you serious?”
“Afraid so,” Jim replied.
“Can I return to New Jersey while this dies down?”
The Human Resources employee shook her head. “I’m sorry, Evangeline, but we have to follow procedure on this one.”
“How ‘bout reassigning my cases until I’m cleared?” Evangeline asked. “That way they won’t just sit.”
“The team can’t handle any more. Your caseload will go unworked until this issue is resolved.” He stood. “I’ll need your laptop, badge, and service weapon.”
There was nothing left to say. Defeated before the day had even begun, and guilty until an internal investigation could clear her, Evangeline rose. She couldn’t imagine how she was going to prove the woman in the video wasn’t her. Compare tit size or the sounds she made during sex? Her stomach dropped.
She returned to her desk and felt the uneasy stares of coworkers drilling into her. After she’d given the requested items to her boss, he escorted her to the lobby.
“I’m sorry,” Jim said. “My hands are tied on this one.”
She refused to respond.
“I’ll keep you posted.”
She shrugged into her wool coat, pushed through the front door, and barreled into a swarm of media. Seeing the press milling around the Department of Justice wasn’t surprising, but getting a microphone shoved in her face was.
“So, Ms. Worthington, are you the other woman?” asked a reporter.
“How long have you been sleeping with the Deputy Director of Domestic Communications?” shouted a second.
“Isn’t Mr. Caraway your sister’s father? Does your family know?”
Like a deer blinded by high beams in the middle of the road, she froze. The press closed in, enveloping her in a sea of people. She felt lightheaded and shuddered in a shaky breath.
Someone wrapped a strong hand around her upper arm. “Good morning, everyone.”
Evangeline whipped her face around and her heart jolted. Sin had appeared out of nowhere and stood beside her. A pillar of strength and control. His presence anchored her in a way that she’d never felt from any other person. She’d almost forgotten how damn good he felt.
Almost.
She breathed.
“You guys have a job to do, but let’s respect Ms. Worthington’s privacy while Develin & Associates clears her of any wrongdoing.” His deep voice and relaxed cadence, paired with his signature brand of sophistication, had the press locked on his every word.
“So, she’s not the woman in the video?” asked a reporter.
“Would I be helping her if she was?”
“What proof do you have that it’s not her?” shouted another.
Instead of answering, he shot the press a picture-perfect smile before turning his complete attention on Evangeline. “Ready to head out?”