Leah Braemel - Personal Protection

That another woman had driven the bidding to such a frenzied height and cost Jodi so much had left her mortified. Especially when Jodi insisted that she go out with Sam as stipulated by the auction rules. Not that anything had happened, no matter her fantasies. “Besides, he’s my boss. Not to mention my principal. You know it wouldn’t be good to allow myself to be distracted.”

One of his shoulders slowly hitched up then dropped. “All I’m saying is that if you have a chance to find love, you should grab it, you know?”

“It’s not like that.” Sam had never mentioned a word about love. He’d asked if she felt what she did to him, but that was physical. And she had enough experience to know that lust was vastly different than love.

“Oh. Like I said, that’s a pity.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “All right, let me go move my stuff into that bedroom and tell Scott about the change in plans. You wouldn’t want me walking around buck naked in the morning now, would you?” He knocked on the door then walked in. “Hey, Scott? Change of plans, buddy.”

Rosie sank back into her chair. There was no way she could stay on as lead op after this. Her threat to request a transfer had just become a necessity. Hopefully the rumors that would undoubtedly rage like a California brush fire wouldn’t reach wherever she landed. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the speed dial. While she waited for the phone to connect, she watched the monitor showing the four cameras in the central hall Kris had set up earlier. The one aimed at the elevators showed the door opening and an older lady stepping off, a yappy white spotted terrier pulling at its leash.

Mrs. Margaret O’Mara of 1206. No threat to Sam. The woman turned to the right and walked to the apartment at the far end.

The ringing switched to an automated voice mail system. Once she’d heard the beep, she drew a deep breath. “Chad, it’s Rosie. There’s been a…development. If you could call me on my cell as soon as you get this.” Though she knew Chad had her on speed dial she recited her number anyway.

While she waited for him to phone back, she read through a couple more reports and noted who was where on the spreadsheet she’d started earlier that day, ruling out three more agents as possible suspects. At least she could say she’d contributed something to the detail before she left.

Twenty minutes later, the computer screen showed the elevator doors opening again. Chad. So he’d decided to see her in person rather than talk over the phone.

It was going to be tough to face him, but she supposed she owed him that much for believing in her enough to put her in charge. At least it was better than an impersonal email. Hey, thanks for putting me in charge, but I’m going to turn tail and run because my boss can make me come with his tongue.

Keep cool, stay calm. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, laying a hand on the doorknob. If he doesn’t grant your request for a transfer, then tell him that he can expect a letter from her lawyer.

She opened the door without trying to fake a smile. She knew she’d fail.

“Hey, Chad, come on in.”

Chad nodded once. “You all right, Rosie?”

A half-hysterical laugh came from her. All right? Where did she even begin to start?

He tilted his head as he looked at her. “The reason your call got dumped into voice mail was I was on the phone with Sam.”

Why did she not find that surprising?

“He said that he’s worried he gave Campbell and Phillips a wrong impression about you. And he’s worried he upset you. So do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No.” She pinched the bridge of her nose when a bellow of laughter echoed down the hall. Andy. Probably hearing what he’d seen out in the hall. Great. Her humiliation was nearly complete.

From the sounds of it, Andy was busting a gut in hysterical laughter.

Something smashed. Crap, hopefully it wasn’t that big antique mirror over the dresser. Or if it was, she hoped it had fallen right on Andy’s head. And maybe Scott’s too.

Chad stalked to the bedroom and threw open the door. “You mind-” Whatever he said from there she lost when he closed the door behind him. Less than thirty seconds later, he returned, shaking his head.

“What did they break?”

“Andy dropped a vase. I told him he’s got to either find a replacement or I’ll take it out of his next paycheck.” Chad stopped in the middle of the room and jammed his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he watched her. “So, you going to tell me what happened?”

“Look, Chad. I appreciate you putting me in charge of this op, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to replace me. I want to transfer to another office-maybe Miami or Chicago.”

Somewhere far from D.C. and Sam Watson. She’d move to Spain if they had an office there.

“Sam said to expect that. He’s instructed me to do anything you ask, to tell you he’ll give you a good recommendation, pay for your moving expenses, whatever you need.”

Probably worried about getting sued. But could she sue him when she had been a willing participant?

“Thing is, I don’t want to transfer you. Not without knowing what happened to make you want to run.”

“Then I’ll quit, and you can discuss it with my lawyer.” Her eyes burned, matching the fire roiling in her gut.

“Why do you need a lawyer, Rosie?” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he ground his words out. “Did Sam hurt you? Because if that mofo did, I’ll take him down myself.”

“No, he didn’t hurt me.” What did it say that all these guys thought Sam was capable of rape? Did he have a history of violence that she didn’t know about?

“I wish you’d trust me,” Chad said softly. “Not a word you tell me will be repeated. Scouts’ honor.” He held up three fingers and smiled, something that took about ten years off him.

She started to say she’d rather not, but realized that if she did see a lawyer, she’d have to describe-in graphic detail-exactly what had happened and he’d find out anyway. Screw the lawyer. “Just replace me, Chad. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Chad sighed and gestured her to sit on the couch. After she’d settled in place, he sat on the chair across from her and placed his right ankle on the opposite knee. He leaned back and regarded her for a few moments. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, not demanding. “You know, I think I can guess what happened tonight. Sam finally admitted he’s attracted to you, didn’t he?”

“Finally?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, sounding as tiny as she felt. What was it with everyone insisting Sam was interested in her? He’d not made a move toward her on their date. Tonight was…an aberration, that’s all.

“Sam’s been interested in you from the first time he met you. Yet in all that time, he’s never made a move on you. He’s never acted inappropriately. He’s never used his position to his advantage over you, has he?”

“No, he hasn’t.”

“And even though he’s interested in you, he won’t push you if you’re not interested in him.” His ankle dropped to the floor and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But you are interested in him, aren’t you?”

“No! No.” Even she could hear the weakness behind her denial. She jumped up from the chair and faced the window, hoping he couldn’t see the blush on her face.

“Rosie, when Sam’s in your line of sight, you put out every sexual non-verbal message ever documented-you touch your hair, you straighten your clothing, you cross and uncross your legs, you even lean in his direction-standing or sitting. And this morning-in the firing range-as soon as you realized he was there, you bent down and waggled your butt in his face.”