Indulgence: A Russian Mafia Romance (Grekov Mafia Book 1) by Jacee Macguire Page B

wanted to help close the hub.
    That’s one of the reasons I had requested to work in the Houston Division. They needed all the people they could get to fight the good fight, and I was ready to kick ass and take names. Unfortunately, being a newbie in the agency didn’t allow me to get straight to the kick ass and take names part. For me, it was computers and printers and hours of reading documents and listening to recorded conversations as an Intelligence Research Specialist, which was basically a very fancy-sounding name for a desk job.
    It didn’t really come as a surprise. I knew how things worked. I had to work my way up the ladder like everyone else, prove myself worthy. When the research position was offered, I took it with honor and a sense of pride.
    I knew it was an important job. It just wasn’t the job I wanted, and it was easy to get lost in the fantasy of it all. Seeing the agents around the office only stoked the fire within me to one day be upstairs with them, receiving orders and heading out to spy on the underlings working for the current bad guy on our radar.
    Others were fine with sitting behind the desk. They liked the routine of showing up and going home at a set time, having lunch on a particular hour. Not me. I had no intentions of letting my time behind the desk make me soft. I had trained hard to prepare for this. At five-feet, ten-inches tall and a solid hundred and fifty pounds, I was all muscle. With my breasts and my hips, I’d never be mistaken for a guy but I wasn’t soft. I liked food. A lot. That just meant I had to exercise harder, and I did, on a daily basis. When the chance to step out from behind the desk came, I’d be ready.
    Smiling, I pictured myself, gun drawn, DEA in large letters on my jacket, flashing my badge and saying the words I dreamed to say. “Corsica Moretti, DEA,” I whispered softly. That day couldn’t come soon enough.
    A female voice snapped me out of my daze. “Hey there, Corsica.”
    “Hi, Bridget.”
    “Still daydreaming about working upstairs?” Bridget asked, shaking her head.
    None of the women could understand why I wanted so badly to be upstairs, why I was so eager to move from a position where the most dangerous thing that could happen was a paper cut. But I more than wanted it. I needed it. I yearned for the adventure that came along with it.
    “Of course!” I said, excitement in my voice. “Don’t you wonder what it’s like up there?”
    “Girl, I’m happy where I am… but I did hear from an agent last night that they might have a position available soon. You should look into it.”
    “Pillow talk again?” I asked.
    Bridget flashed a wicked smile.
    I laughed. “Those guys will tell you anything. Let me know if you find out more.” Sliding my chair under the table, I waved goodbye and headed back to the growing stack of documents on my desk that were begging for my attention.
    “Later, girl,” Bridget called out as I stepped into the hallway.
    Back at my desk, I slipped on my headphones and got busy with the latest wiretap. We weren’t given any details about the individuals or the cases, which was sort of frustrating, but everything around here worked on a need-to-know basis, and that type of information wasn’t needed to get our portion of the job done. I couldn’t help being curious, though. Who were these people I was listening to? What had they done? More importantly, how close was the DEA to busting them and putting them behind bars? Some might call it nosey, but I just wanted to know everything there was to know. Yet another reason to look forward to moving upstairs, where’d I’d be able to find out more about what was going on.
    Five o’clock arrived and I had succeeded in clearing my desk... as usual. I didn’t believe in leaving things for another day. Who knew if that one document I decided to save for the next day might be the smoking gun that could help put a bad guy away? Because of that, I made it my number one