Beautiful Redemption (4 page)

“It’s not complicated at all actually.”

“Listen,” Val said while chewing the first bite of her burger, “I’m a great friend, but you’re going to have to open up more. I don’t care to hang out with strangers.”

“Everyone is a stranger at first,” I said, thinking of my stranger.

“No, not in the Bureau.”

“Why don’t you just open my file?”

“That’s no fun! C’mon. Just the basics. Did you transfer to move up or move on?”

“Both.”

“Perfect. Keep going. Do your parents suck?” She covered her mouth. “Oh my hell, they’re not dead, are they?”

I squirmed in my seat. “Um…no. I had a normal childhood. My parents love me and each other. I’m an only child.”

Val sighed. “Thank Christ. I might as well ask the next offensive question.”

“No, I wasn’t adopted,” I droned. “Lindy is Irish. My mother is Japanese.”

“Is your dad a ginger?” She smirked.

I glared at her. “You only get two offensive questions on the first day.”

“Continue,” she conceded.

“I graduated with honors. I was dating a guy. It didn’t work out,” I said, tired of my own story. “No drama. Our breakup was just as boring as our relationship.”

“How long?”

“Was I with Jackson? Seven years.”

“Seven years. No ring?”

“Kind of,” I said, making a face.

“Ah. You’re married to the job. Betty Bureau.”

“So was he.”

Val puffed out a laugh. “You were dating an agent?”

“Yes. He was SWAT.”

“Even worse. How did you live with him for that long? How did he handle coming in second place for that long?”

I shrugged. “He loved me.”

“But you gave back the ring. You didn’t love him?”

I shrugged again, taking a bite. “Anything I should know about the office?” I asked.

Val smirked. “Changing the subject. Classic. Hmm…what you need to know about the office. Don’t piss off Maddox. He’s the Assistant Special Agent in Charge.”

“So I’ve heard,” I said, brushing my hands against each other to wipe off the salt.

“All the way in Chicago?”

I nodded.

“It’s justifiable gossip. He is a huge, gigantic, enormous asshole. You’ll see tomorrow morning at the meeting.”

“He’ll be there?” I asked.

She nodded. “He will tell you that you’re worthless as an agent even if you’re the best of the best just so he can observe your performance when your confidence has been crushed.”

“I can handle it. What else?”

“Agent Sawyer is a slut. Stay away from him. And Agent Davies is, too. Stay away from her.”

“Oh,” I said, processing her words. “I don’t see myself engaging in interoffice relations after the debacle that was Jackson.”

Val smiled. “I have firsthand knowledge of both…so you should stay away from me, too.”

I frowned. “Is anyone here safe to hang out with?”

“Maddox,” she said. “He has mommy issues, and he was burned bad a while ago. He wouldn’t look at your tits if you flashed him.”

“So, he hates women.”

“No,” she said, looking off in thought. “He’s just sworn them off. Doesn’t want to get hurt again, I imagine.”

“I don’t care what is wrong with him. If what you say is true, I definitely don’t want to hang out with him.”

“You’ll do fine. Just do your job, and go on with your life.”

“The job is my life,” I said.

Val lifted her chin, not trying to hide that she was impressed with my answer. “You’re already one of us. Maddox is a hard ass, but he’ll see it, too.”

“What’s his story?” I asked.

She took a sip of water. “He was focused but tolerable when I came to San Diego until a little over a year ago. Like I said, he was burned by some girl in his hometown—
Camille
,” she said the name as if it were poison in her mouth. “I don’t know the details. No one talks about it.”

“Weird.”

“Will you feel like having a drink or five later?” she asked, losing interest now that the conversation wasn’t centered on my personal life. “There’s a cool little pub in Midtown.”

“I live in Midtown,” I said, wondering if I would see my neighbor again.

She grinned. “Me, too. A lot of us do. We can drown your sorrows together.”

“I don’t have sorrows. Just memories. They’ll go away on their own.”

Val’s eyes were bright again with interest, but I wasn’t enjoying the interrogation. I wasn’t that hard up for friends. Well, I was, but I had boundaries.

“What about you?” I asked.

“That is a Friday night conversation, told over stiff drinks and loud music. So, are you here to swear off men? Are you finding yourself?” she asked the questions without an ounce of seriousness.

If my answers were yes, I wouldn’t admit it. She was clearly hoping to ridicule me.

“If I were, I have already failed miserably,” I said, thinking of the night before.

Val leaned forward. “Are you serious? You just got here. Someone you know? Old high school classmate?”

I shook my head, feeling my cheeks flush. The memories came quickly but in flashes—Thomas’s hazel-green eyes glancing over at me from where he’d sat at the bar, the sound of my door from him pushing back against it, how easily he’d slid inside me, and my ankles high in the air, jerking with each amazing thrust. I pressed my knees together in reaction.

A wide grin spread across Val’s face. “One-night stand?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

“Complete stranger?”

I nodded. “Sort of. He lives in my building, but I didn’t know that until after.”

Val gasped and then sat back against her wooden chair. “I knew it,” she said.

“You knew what?”

She leaned forward and crossed her arms, resting them on the table. “That we are going to be great friends.”

“W
HO THE HELL IS LISA?”
A loud voice bounced off the four walls of the squad room. “Lisa Lindy.”

On just my second day in the San Diego office, I was one of dozens of agents waiting for the early meeting to begin. Everyone had seemed nervous before the outburst, but now, they all seemed to relax.

I looked up into the eyes of the young Assistant Special Agent in Charge and nearly swallowed my tongue. It was him—my one-night stand, the lips I missed, my neighbor.

Panic and bile instantly rose in my throat, but I swallowed it back.

“It’s Liis,” Val said. “Like geese but with an L, sir.”

My heart was pounding against my chest. He was waiting for someone to come forward. Life was going to go from fresh start to complicated in three, two—

“I’m Liis Lindy, sir. Is there a problem?”

When our eyes met, he paused, and utter horror washed over me in waves. Recognition lit his face, too, and for just a moment, he blanched. The strings-free one-night stand was now so tangled that I wanted to hang myself.

He quickly recovered. Whatever had made him so angry melted away for a moment, but then his face tightened, and he was back to hating everything.

Special Agent Maddox’s ferocious reputation had preceded him. Agents from all over the country knew of his tight rein and impossible expectations. I had been prepared to suffer under his supervision. I hadn’t been prepared to do so after actually being under him.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

He blinked and then held out the file. “This FD-three-oh-two is unacceptable. I don’t know how you did things in Chicago, but in San Diego, we don’t just slap shit on paper and call it good.”

His harsh and very public criticism made me snap out of my shame spiral and back into the role of Betty Bureau.

“The report is thorough,” I said with confidence.

Despite my anger, my mind toyed with the memories of the night before—what my boss’s body had looked like under that suit, the way his biceps had flexed when he rammed himself inside me, how good his lips had felt on mine. The severity of the shitstorm I had created for myself hit me. I had no idea how I could form a sentence, much less sound confident.

“Sir,” Val began, “I would be happy to take a look at the report and—”

“Agent Taber?” Maddox said.

I half-expected her to say,
Fuck off
.

“Yes, sir?”

“I am perfectly capable of discerning whether I’ll accept a report or not.”

“Yes, sir,” she said again, unfazed, lacing her fingers on the table.

“Are you able to perform the job assigned to you, Agent Lindy?” Maddox asked.

I didn’t like the way he’d said my name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Yes, sir.” It felt so damn bizarre to call him sir. It made me feel too submissive. My father’s blood raged in my veins.

“Then, do it.”

I wanted to be in San Diego even if it put me directly in the crosshairs of a renowned asshole of an ASAC like Maddox. It was better than being in Chicago, having the same seven-year-long conversation with Jackson Schultz. That name definitely left a bad taste in my mouth.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from what I was about to say. “I would be happy to, sir, if you’ll let me.”

I was sure I heard maybe one or two barely audible gasps in the room. Agent Maddox’s eyes flickered. He took a step in my direction. He was tall and nothing less than menacing, even in a tailored suit. Even though he was more than a foot taller than me and rumored to be lethal with a gun and his fists, my Irish side lured me to narrow my eyes and cock my head, daring my superior to take one more step, even on my first day.

“Sir,” another agent said, requesting Maddox’s attention.

Maddox turned, allowing the man to whisper in his ear.

Val leaned over, talking so quiet she nearly breathed the words, “That’s Marks. He’s closest to Maddox here.”

Maddox had to lean down as Marks was not much taller than me, but he was broad-shouldered and appeared almost as dangerous as the ASAC.

Maddox nodded, and then his cold hazel eyes skimmed over everyone in the room. “We’ve had a few leads with Abernathy. Marks will meet with the contact agent in Vegas tonight. Taber, where are we with Benny’s guy, Arturo?”

Val began to give her report just as Maddox tossed my FD-302 on the table.

He let her finish, and then he glared down at me. “Send me something when you have some actual intelligence. I brought you on board based on Carter’s commendation. Don’t make an ass out of him.”

“Agent Carter doesn’t extend his praises lightly,” I said, unamused. “I take that very seriously.”

Maddox raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“Sir. I take his commendation very seriously, sir.”

“Then, give me something I can use by the end of the day.”

“Yes, sir,” I said through my teeth.

Everyone stood and dispersed, and I snatched my report off the table, glaring at Maddox, as he left with Agent Marks trailing behind.

Someone handed me a Styrofoam cup full of water, and I took it before plodding to my desk and falling less than gracefully into my chair.

“Thank you, Agent Taber.”

“Fuck off,” she said. “And you’re toast. He hates your guts.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I said before taking another sip. “This is just a pit stop. My end game is to become an analyst at Quantico.”

Val pulled back her long russet tresses, twisting and wrapping them into a low bun at the base of her neck. My sad thin black hair was teeming with jealousy as Val struggled with four bobby pins to keep the sheer weight of her hair from pulling the bun out of place. Her sideswept bangs were pulled across her forehead and tucked behind her left ear.

Val appeared young, but she didn’t seem inexperienced. The day before, she’d mentioned several closed cases that she had under her belt already.

“I said San Diego was temporary, too, and here I am, four years later.”

She followed me to the wall with the built-in coffee nook and Keurig.

Squad Five was back to the grind, typing on their computers or talking on the phone. When my mug was full, I grabbed packets of sugar and creamer and then returned to my high-backed black chair. I tried not to compare everything with my cubicle in Chicago, but San Diego had had new offices built just two years before. In certain areas, I could still smell the fresh paint. Chicago was well-worn. It had been home for six and a half years before I’d transferred. My chair there was practically molded to my backside, the files in my desk organized just the way I wanted, the cubicle walls between agents were tall enough for at least a little privacy, and the ASAC hadn’t ripped me to shreds in front of the entire squad on my second day.

Val watched me set the steaming mug on my desk, and then sat in her chair.

I fingered the package of creamer, frowning.

“I’m out of half-and-half, but I do have two-percent in the refrigerator,” she said, a tinge of sympathy in her voice.

I made a face. “No. I hate milk.”

Val’s eyebrows shot up, and then her eyes fell to the floor, surprised at my tone. “Okay then. You’re not a fan of milk. Won’t ask again.”

“No. I hate milk—as in, my
soul
hates milk.”

Val chuckled. “Well then, I won’t make the trip.” She eyed my empty desk, devoid of family pictures or even a penholder. “The guy who used to be at this cubicle…his name was Trex.”