wasn’t going to let a bare tit stop me.
I’d shown more skin at the sushi restaurant.
I dove at her while she tried to get the doors open; she sidestepped me. I pushed her; she shoved me back. She punched the buttons, the doors opened, she tried to get out. I tripped her. She went down like a long-legged giraffe with an angry lioness hot on its tail, her butt up in the air. I jumped on her back and straddled her before she had a chance to kick me, and then I pulled her arms back toward me and did what any good FBI agent would do if they didn’t have a plastic zip-tie.
I cuffed her with the long chain on my silver-sequined purse.
* * *
“I couldn’t have hogtied her better myself, Pepper,” Steve said, wrapping a black velvet tablecloth around my shoulders. I shivered when his hand slipped to my bare breast. Thank God, no one could see him.
“Too bad you missed the foxy catfight,” I said, loving his touch. He was giving me what I wanted and needed, and I would take down the inglorious Ms. Sims all over again if he promised not to stop.
“Thank God, you weren’t hurt,” he said. He nuzzled his face in my hair, his breath hot on the back of my neck. I got all warm and fuzzy inside, hearing his words.
He hustled me through the chaos, taking control, answering the questions thrown at us. Even in the dim light, I could see his eyes were on fire, his whole body moving in exact precision. As if he were in the heat of battle. Orchestrating the takedown of Mr. Briggs and Ms. Sims smoothly and with the expertise and know-how of a trained field agent.
That was when it hit me.
This was how an FBI agent operated in the real world, not the virtual fantasy sandbox where I played. Fool . I’d been so caught up in “being in the moment,” I’d turned that moment into a sideshow. I imagined the two federal agents muttering to each other that I overreacted, backed up with comments about me being a typical female, even if I did take down the target.
I dropped my chin to my chest. I was ashamed of my bravado, my tasteless theatrics. I was no closer to joining the FBI now than I’d been before tonight. The truth was, my dream seemed further away than ever.
I didn’t tell Steve how I felt. He had high hopes for me and I’d let him down. Yet I couldn’t believe how he kept me close to him, protecting me, while he barked orders to the hotel staff to serve drinks and keep the party going. The situation was intense, edgy, and the sooner they cleaned up the scene and got their prisoners out of here, the sooner everyone would forget the FBI had shown up as an uninvited guest.
Everyone except Mr. Briggs.
He couldn’t resist a parting shot at me before they took him away in handcuffs. He pulled hard to get away from the agent gripping his arm to have his say.
“You never would have caught on to me without Miss Smarty-Pants here,” he sputtered, glaring at me. If looks could kill, I was among the walking dead. “I should have fired her months ago.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I looked right back at him and didn’t blink a phony lash.
“Because you were the best programmer I ever had.” He shook his head. “Who would have thought the FBI hired agents that smart.”
I beamed. Damn, that felt good. My ex-boss thinking I was an agent and giving me the credit for his takedown.
“Briggs is right, Pepper,” Steve whispered in my ear. “It’s your collar.”
I nodded, loving hearing him say that. But this was no cop show. I had stepped through the fourth wall tonight and become part of the real world. I could no longer hide behind my glasses. Nor did I want to.
“That doesn’t mean the next time I want you running around cuffing suspects half-naked,” Steve continued, his voice stern. We headed toward the parking garage, the party chatter and clinking glasses behind us, the plush gold-and-red carpeting under my bare feet masking our footsteps. “The Bureau has rules about that.”
“The next time?” I
I’d shown more skin at the sushi restaurant.
I dove at her while she tried to get the doors open; she sidestepped me. I pushed her; she shoved me back. She punched the buttons, the doors opened, she tried to get out. I tripped her. She went down like a long-legged giraffe with an angry lioness hot on its tail, her butt up in the air. I jumped on her back and straddled her before she had a chance to kick me, and then I pulled her arms back toward me and did what any good FBI agent would do if they didn’t have a plastic zip-tie.
I cuffed her with the long chain on my silver-sequined purse.
* * *
“I couldn’t have hogtied her better myself, Pepper,” Steve said, wrapping a black velvet tablecloth around my shoulders. I shivered when his hand slipped to my bare breast. Thank God, no one could see him.
“Too bad you missed the foxy catfight,” I said, loving his touch. He was giving me what I wanted and needed, and I would take down the inglorious Ms. Sims all over again if he promised not to stop.
“Thank God, you weren’t hurt,” he said. He nuzzled his face in my hair, his breath hot on the back of my neck. I got all warm and fuzzy inside, hearing his words.
He hustled me through the chaos, taking control, answering the questions thrown at us. Even in the dim light, I could see his eyes were on fire, his whole body moving in exact precision. As if he were in the heat of battle. Orchestrating the takedown of Mr. Briggs and Ms. Sims smoothly and with the expertise and know-how of a trained field agent.
That was when it hit me.
This was how an FBI agent operated in the real world, not the virtual fantasy sandbox where I played. Fool . I’d been so caught up in “being in the moment,” I’d turned that moment into a sideshow. I imagined the two federal agents muttering to each other that I overreacted, backed up with comments about me being a typical female, even if I did take down the target.
I dropped my chin to my chest. I was ashamed of my bravado, my tasteless theatrics. I was no closer to joining the FBI now than I’d been before tonight. The truth was, my dream seemed further away than ever.
I didn’t tell Steve how I felt. He had high hopes for me and I’d let him down. Yet I couldn’t believe how he kept me close to him, protecting me, while he barked orders to the hotel staff to serve drinks and keep the party going. The situation was intense, edgy, and the sooner they cleaned up the scene and got their prisoners out of here, the sooner everyone would forget the FBI had shown up as an uninvited guest.
Everyone except Mr. Briggs.
He couldn’t resist a parting shot at me before they took him away in handcuffs. He pulled hard to get away from the agent gripping his arm to have his say.
“You never would have caught on to me without Miss Smarty-Pants here,” he sputtered, glaring at me. If looks could kill, I was among the walking dead. “I should have fired her months ago.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I looked right back at him and didn’t blink a phony lash.
“Because you were the best programmer I ever had.” He shook his head. “Who would have thought the FBI hired agents that smart.”
I beamed. Damn, that felt good. My ex-boss thinking I was an agent and giving me the credit for his takedown.
“Briggs is right, Pepper,” Steve whispered in my ear. “It’s your collar.”
I nodded, loving hearing him say that. But this was no cop show. I had stepped through the fourth wall tonight and become part of the real world. I could no longer hide behind my glasses. Nor did I want to.
“That doesn’t mean the next time I want you running around cuffing suspects half-naked,” Steve continued, his voice stern. We headed toward the parking garage, the party chatter and clinking glasses behind us, the plush gold-and-red carpeting under my bare feet masking our footsteps. “The Bureau has rules about that.”
“The next time?” I
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