taking a large bite of one hotdog.
“Just say whatever you want to say so I
can get back to work,” Ivy told him.
He glanced up at her. “Sit down.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. And if you don’t start talking, I’m
going back in.”
“Ivy. Sit.” He gestured next to him.
“Screw this. I’m going back inside, Lucas. I only came out here to tell
you—leave me alone or I’ll make sure you’re fired. I can do it, too.”
Lucas put one of the dogs down on the arm
of the bench, where it balanced precariously. He held up one finger as if requesting
her patience, then reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, and flipped
it open.
Ivy saw that there was a large picture ID
staring up at her from inside the wallet. It was unmistakably Lucas in that picture, and on the ID in large
letters it read FEDERAL BUREAU of INVESTIGATION, with a very legitimate looking
seal of the U.S. Department of Justice embossed next to that.
A cold shot of fear went through her
entire body, completely stopping her in her tracks.
“Now why don’t you sit down,” Lucas said,
smiling in a way that was friendly, while also seeming to be threatening at the
same time.
“That’s probably a fake,” she said. “You don’t work for the FBI, Lucas. You’re my age.”
He took a large bite of the first hotdog,
then another and another, finishing it entirely and crumbling the wax paper in
his hand. He tossed it into a
nearby trash barrel and then closed his wallet and put it back in his
pocket. “Okay, Ivy,” he said, as he
finished chewing. “What I want you
to do is take out your phone and look up the FBI Boston Field Office. Google it, and call the main
number. Ask for Assistant Director
Ratner, and then tell him you’re standing here with me. My real name is Special Agent Lucas
Hogan.”
Ivy hadn’t moved since seeing his FBI
credentials. She refused to believe
he was for real, though. “Maybe
you’re just impersonating this agent. I know you’re lying, Lucas.”
He laughed and raised his eyebrows, as he
took the second hotdog off the arm of the bench and unwrapped it. “Fine, let’s the two of us make a visit
to the field office right now, together. It’s not far from here. We’ll go speak to my superior in person. It’ll be hard for you to deny who I am
after that, Ivy.”
She shook her head no. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Sit down,” he smiled with his lips, but
his eyes weren’t smiling any longer. “You’re making this scene look very suspicious. I really don’t want to be angry with
you, and you don’t want me to get angry either.”
She finally did sit down, because she had
the sinking feeling that Lucas really was exactly who he said he was. It explained so many things about how
strangely he’d been behaving. “Why
are you pretending to be a temp?” she asked him, sitting as far away from him
as possible on the bench.
“I’m working undercover to try and get
information about Cullen Sharpe and his company. It’s very difficult to gain entry to his
organization at the higher levels, unfortunately. And even more difficult to get close to
the man, the way you’ve managed to do.” He shot her a meaningful glance.
“I’m not close to him at all,” Ivy said,
pressing her lips together. She
felt sick to her stomach.
“Sure you don’t want a bite?” Lucas said,
once again extending the hotdog outwards.
“I’m sure.”
He shrugged and started eating, wiping
the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I wasn’t sure how I would connect with you,” Lucas said, “but then I
happened by your desk and saw the email you were reading. And I realized that perhaps you’re ready
to hear the truth about Cullen Sharpe.”
“Just happened by my desk? You were standing there spying on me,”
she replied. “That email was
personal and you read it
“Just say whatever you want to say so I
can get back to work,” Ivy told him.
He glanced up at her. “Sit down.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. And if you don’t start talking, I’m
going back in.”
“Ivy. Sit.” He gestured next to him.
“Screw this. I’m going back inside, Lucas. I only came out here to tell
you—leave me alone or I’ll make sure you’re fired. I can do it, too.”
Lucas put one of the dogs down on the arm
of the bench, where it balanced precariously. He held up one finger as if requesting
her patience, then reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, and flipped
it open.
Ivy saw that there was a large picture ID
staring up at her from inside the wallet. It was unmistakably Lucas in that picture, and on the ID in large
letters it read FEDERAL BUREAU of INVESTIGATION, with a very legitimate looking
seal of the U.S. Department of Justice embossed next to that.
A cold shot of fear went through her
entire body, completely stopping her in her tracks.
“Now why don’t you sit down,” Lucas said,
smiling in a way that was friendly, while also seeming to be threatening at the
same time.
“That’s probably a fake,” she said. “You don’t work for the FBI, Lucas. You’re my age.”
He took a large bite of the first hotdog,
then another and another, finishing it entirely and crumbling the wax paper in
his hand. He tossed it into a
nearby trash barrel and then closed his wallet and put it back in his
pocket. “Okay, Ivy,” he said, as he
finished chewing. “What I want you
to do is take out your phone and look up the FBI Boston Field Office. Google it, and call the main
number. Ask for Assistant Director
Ratner, and then tell him you’re standing here with me. My real name is Special Agent Lucas
Hogan.”
Ivy hadn’t moved since seeing his FBI
credentials. She refused to believe
he was for real, though. “Maybe
you’re just impersonating this agent. I know you’re lying, Lucas.”
He laughed and raised his eyebrows, as he
took the second hotdog off the arm of the bench and unwrapped it. “Fine, let’s the two of us make a visit
to the field office right now, together. It’s not far from here. We’ll go speak to my superior in person. It’ll be hard for you to deny who I am
after that, Ivy.”
She shook her head no. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Sit down,” he smiled with his lips, but
his eyes weren’t smiling any longer. “You’re making this scene look very suspicious. I really don’t want to be angry with
you, and you don’t want me to get angry either.”
She finally did sit down, because she had
the sinking feeling that Lucas really was exactly who he said he was. It explained so many things about how
strangely he’d been behaving. “Why
are you pretending to be a temp?” she asked him, sitting as far away from him
as possible on the bench.
“I’m working undercover to try and get
information about Cullen Sharpe and his company. It’s very difficult to gain entry to his
organization at the higher levels, unfortunately. And even more difficult to get close to
the man, the way you’ve managed to do.” He shot her a meaningful glance.
“I’m not close to him at all,” Ivy said,
pressing her lips together. She
felt sick to her stomach.
“Sure you don’t want a bite?” Lucas said,
once again extending the hotdog outwards.
“I’m sure.”
He shrugged and started eating, wiping
the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I wasn’t sure how I would connect with you,” Lucas said, “but then I
happened by your desk and saw the email you were reading. And I realized that perhaps you’re ready
to hear the truth about Cullen Sharpe.”
“Just happened by my desk? You were standing there spying on me,”
she replied. “That email was
personal and you read it
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