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Authors: A. M. Madden

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BOOK: Glass Ceilings
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“You'll have to, Nick. You don't have a choice.”

I released a groan that told George, I fucking knew that. My connection to Angela was nothing the courts would respect…except if our connection were something else in the eyes of the law, something binding.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. “But maybe I do.” He looked at me expectantly. “I can marry her.”

Chapter 22
Nick

Rupert listened as I repeated, yet again, the facts Angela had told me pertaining to Ronnie. He showed little emotion as he sat stone still, staring at me across the conference room table. Just as I had with George, I waited until the end to tell my boss about my son.

After measuring me up for a few very long minutes, he finally spoke. “Farley, you were my best agent—no offense, Georgie-boy.”

George shrugged but otherwise wasn't bothered by the statement. “None taken.”

“I made you my assistant director for a reason. You've given me nothing but a thousand percent in every case you've handled. You are a pit bull when it comes to detaching yourself from the humanity behind these gruesome crimes that we witness daily. But that can all go to hell when feelings and emotions are suddenly fucking with your head. It's only a matter of time before they will also fuck with your job responsibilities.”

“What feelings and emotions?” I played completely dumb.

“Don't fuck with me, Farley. I watched her interrogation. I scrutinized behavior, and I immediately noticed something. You know what it was?” He didn't wait for me to respond, instead leaning closer to emphasis his words. “It was clear as fuck that she had feelings for you, and you for her. Most would never have picked up on that fact, but I did.”

I was about to object when he said, “I picked up on it the minute you walked through that door. And, if you watched what I watched, you would have come to the same conclusion. You know why? Because you're just like me and we both can read people better than anyone. Turns out, I was right, on both observations. So, cut the crap and tell me what she means to you.” A scowl crumpled every inch of Rupert's portly face.

“They have a son together,” George spoke up on my behalf. “That affects everything.”

“He didn't know he had a son in that room, Whitney. Besides, that means shit if he doesn't have feelings for her. We all know that chicks get pregnant all the time just to trap the one they want. So that's a bullshit excuse.”

I squirmed in my chair, my mind racing, trying to decide what to say.

“Farley, I can't be wondering if your allegiance is to her or us. Without me knowing where your loyalties lie, you leave me no choice but to assume they lie with her…unless you tell me the truth.”

“Does it change my involvement in the case?” I asked, pathetically grasping at straws.

“No.” When I released a short sarcastic huff, he added, “Farley, I'm not punishing you. I'm sparing you.”

“How is that sparing me?”

“The less you know, the better. One thing is for sure, she's in one fine mess and those people are monsters. You have every reason to be worried about her. Yesterday, we concluded she was nowhere near his building the day of his murder, but that doesn't rule out her involvement. You agree?” I nodded, and a smug look replaced his scowl. “You were with her yesterday?”

“Yes, I spent the day with her and my son.”

“Thanks for telling me. You're off the case.”

I pretended indifference, and even though I knew that it was coming, it was hard to hear. Especially when I wanted all over this case to supervise every motherfucking minute of it.

“Hey, I'm happy for you, and Lord knows you need a life,” he said, no doubt to soften the blow. “I'm smart enough to see that the Farley sitting here is not the same one I've worked with in the past. In fact, you need to take some well-deserved time off.”

“That's not necessary,” I responded angrily.


That's
not a request.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

He ignored my outburst and nodded. “As a heart attack. Take a short leave, figure things out.”

George threw me an I-told-you-so look.

Being pulled was one thing, but being forced to take some time off was not something I predicted. Not being here, not having access to information would make it close to impossible to keep on top of this case.

Yet, how could I seriously blame Rupert?

“Do you love her?”

I chose to remain silent, causing him to nod with a sardonic smirk as if I just proved his point. Problem was, it really didn't matter what I said at that point. Going forward he'd make damn sure I wasn't involved, on the record at least. But off the record I could do whatever the fuck I wanted, as long as I didn't get caught. Having him believe I was walking away would give me some wiggle room. I could lurk in the background, try to stay one step ahead of them the entire time.

He folded his arms, waiting for my response. Playing chicken with Rupert wouldn't end well. With each deliberate omission of information from me, he'd make sure I knew who was in charge. I always held a healthy respect for him over the years, but I feared him as well. He could single-handedly make my career, just as easily as he could ruin it. If I went forward with my plan to marry Angela, it needed to look legit from day one.

“Yes,” I conceded. “I love her. I've loved her for almost two years, and her showing up here a few days ago shocked that realization back into my subconscious.”

I just admitted to loving her to protect her. I just put her before my job. Rupert was absolutely right…this wasn't me. Things had changed in only two days, and even as I physically sat there at headquarters, my mind was on Angela and Nicholas.

How could I regret what I just admitted to when all I wanted was to be out of that room and back with my son?

Rupert glanced at his watch and stood. “She'll be here any minute. George and I will handle it. Sit in your office until I get done with her.”

“Can I watch?”

“Don't ask me that, Farley.”

“Why not? Why can't I watch? You've pulled me from the case, and you're making me take time off. Being in that surveillance room won't affect anything. She won't know I'm there.”

“You tell me why you need to be there. Don't you trust her?”

“Of course I do.” My jaw clenched tightly while my mind spun for an acceptable response.

Rupert stood impatiently when I couldn't supply one. “There's no reason for you to be there. Wait in your office. You can leave after we chat with Ms. Cavello.”

The minute Rupert left the room, George reminded me of his earlier promise. “I'll do all I can.”

“Thanks,” I said halfheartedly. Sitting in my office down the hall from where I knew she'd be distraught, and not being able to lessen her angst, was going to be torture.

—

Two hours had passed since meeting with Rupert, and the time was spent in my office cramming as much info as I could find on Ronnie Delarro's murder. I scoured the FBI boards for any information regarding the Delarro and Pucci war, jotting down names of every boss, underboss, and soldier under all five families. Many of the names were very familiar from when I'd worked on the Volante case that involved Ella Stone. As I printed pages upon pages of case information, I deleted my history to erase all my tracks. The last thing I did was to reboot my printer, effectively erasing all of its history as well.

I had no idea how long I'd be gone, since Rupert hadn't shared that with me. Even though I felt like I was being punished, ignoring his direct orders was asking for trouble. I had no choice, and I'd worry about the ramifications later.

When Rupert finally appeared at my door, he held the paperwork authorizing my leave of absence.

“Let's say a few weeks, for now. Take advantage of it, Farley. For whatever reason, someone decided your life needed its own shakedown. Pay attention to the reasons why.”

“I don't understand why I'm being forced to take a leave. There are plenty of other cases I can work on.”

“You truly think I'm an idiot, don't you?” he asked mockingly, but the grin on his face meant he was busting my chops. “You and I both know that you being in this building is like giving a junkie access to the meth lab. You haven't taken any time off since you joined this office. Consider this a gift, from me to you. The only reason I'm gifting it is because I like you, respect you, and I truly believe that you need this. Trust the system and your team to deliver justice. You trained them well. Right now, your job is to figure out your own life.”

I flipped open the folder and signed where needed, barely making eye contact with him. I chose not to speak, because the less that I said the better.

“Gun.”

Wordlessly, I unlocked my desk drawer and handed it over.

He left as suddenly as he came, leaving me thinking of something other than my job for the first time in my life.

As I shut down my computer and glanced around my office one last time, George walked into the room.

“Here.” Without explanation, he held out a flash drive.

I immediately knew what it was, and held up my hand refusing it. “No, George, I can't have you…”

“Shut the fuck up. I don't agree with Rupert. There's no reason you can't watch this, just don't do it here.” He shoved it into my hand and lowered his voice. “I won't chance it again, so after this I can't promise to get you more footage.”

“Nor do I want you to. This is all on me. I'll handle it alone.”

“Whatever, kid.” He slipped by, using the nickname he hadn't used since I became his boss. “I got your back, always.” He patted my shoulder and left my office. I trusted this man completely. There was no way I'd jeopardize his career in any way, and I'd do my damnedest to not jeopardize mine as well.

Chapter 23
Nick

I watched the recording George gave me on the flash drive. Overall, the entire interrogation was just a repeat of the one I had conducted two days earlier. Rupert made her repeat everything she shared with me both on and off the record. The only difference was that Rupert relentlessly badgered her with regard to David and Luca even as she held steadfast to her statement that she had no knowledge of the details behind their involvement.

Once I reached the end of her interrogation, I ached to hold my son, and truth be told, I ached to hold her as well. Making the decision to go to her place, I quickly texted her,
Where are you?

A few minutes passed before she responded.
I'm at my place with Eve. You?

I'm on my way over.

I wasn't exactly keen on seeing Eve again so soon without getting a chance to talk to Angela first, but I needed to see my son.

When I arrived, Angela answered the door looking shaken up, her eyes red-rimmed, her face pale. The way her clothes hung on her svelte frame made it look like she'd lost even more weight in just two days.

I missed seeing the Angela that I'd met in Chicago, who was so full of life. This Angela seemed like a shell of who she once was. It only made me want to take care of her even more, to try and bring that light back into her eyes and some joy into her life. Maybe in the process, she'd bring it back into mine as well.

On the tapes, she appeared confident, strong, and transparent. The Angela who stood before me was the polar opposite in every way.

My eyes cut to where Eve sat on the couch holding Nicholas. When my son noticed me, he smiled and said, “Dada.” My heart instantly melted at both seeing him and hearing his recognition of me.

“Come in.” Angela moved aside for me to walk past her.

“Hi, Eve,” I said, stepping closer to kiss Nicholas's head. He raised his arms and I didn't hesitate to lift him from her lap before cradling him to my chest. His baby scent and the way he clung to my neck magically erased every bit of the stress that I felt since last seeing him.

I carried Nicholas to one of the club chairs and sat, placing him on my lap. He latched onto my nose, causing me to release a genuine laugh.

“Hi, Nick,” Eve responded curtly. “He sure does look like you.” She pursed her lips while her blue eyes combed over every inch of me. She hadn't changed much, maybe a little blonder than I remembered, definitely more sophisticated in her appearance. The one obvious change was a new edge, a kind of go-ahead-and-fuck-with-me-I-dare-you attitude that even I had to respect.

“So, how've you been, Nick?”

“Good. You look well. How's Jase?” I asked politely.

“He's great. He can't wait to see you again,” she offered with a smirk. “We'll have to double-date. He said you owe him a bachelor party.”

“Right, congrats on getting married.”

“Why, thank you. It's a novel concept, don't you think? Meet girl, fall in love, get married?”

Angela took the empty chair beside me while throwing her cousin a stern look.

Eve ignored it and said, “Now that we're finally in the same room again, I really just have one question to ask that I've been dying to know the answer to.”

“Ask whatever you need to, although I can't promise an answer.” I focused on my son as he squirmed in my arms. Not ready to let him go yet, I pulled out my cellphone and handed it to him.

“Did you love her?”

“Eve,” Angela scolded in that familiar way I grew accustomed to in Chicago.

“What? I've been holding this in for almost two years, Angela, and since you've kept me in the dark about your feelings toward
Agent Farley,
maybe
he
can answer me.” She turned her body so that she was fully facing where I sat. “Well?”

I kept my focus on Nicholas, refusing to respond.

“Is that a no?”

Angela stiffened beside me. The last thing I wanted was to make her feel worse than she already felt.

“Eve, I still haven't had that discussion with Angela. Why would you think I'd have it with you first?”

Her facial expression hardened when she quipped, “Well, maybe it's time to finally have that discussion?” She pointed to Angela, adding, “You, too. The two of you need to stop this fucking nonsense and
talk
.”

“I wasn't the one who left her, Eve,” I responded bitterly. She cut her eyes to Angela, and mine followed. “I'm sorry,” I said softly to Angela when our eyes met. Turning back to Eve, I elaborated on my comment. “You have to cut me a break here. I left Chicago thinking she and I would be dating in New York, trying to build something together. Obviously, I cared about her enough to want a relationship after only knowing her for a week…but a lot has happened since then.”

“You're right. I guess I'm just rehashing frustrations that I've held toward both of you since the day you met.” Her words were apologetic, but her expression remained unyielding. She stood and walked over to Angela, placing a hand of solidarity on her shoulder. “My point is, she means a lot to Jase and me, as does that little boy. I just ask that you figure things out before you inject yourself into their lives. Don't force your way in only to abandon them later. Angela may recover from losing you again, but he won't,” she said, pointing to Nicholas.

I nodded, unable to argue with her. Appeased, she kissed Angela's head adding, “Okay, I'm off. Jase will want to see him, so I'll call you later to see if you're up to it.”

“Okay. Thanks for watching him today.”

“Always.” Eve then walked over to where I sat and bent to kiss Nicholas's head. “Bye, bye, Nicholai. I love you.”

“Bye, bye,” he repeated. She gave me a quick smile and let herself out.

“Nicholai?” I asked once she left.

“Yes, it's her nickname for him.” Angela sat staring at the door well after Eve shut it behind her. “I'm sorry about that,” she said quietly. “She's a bit overprotective of us, Jase even more so.”

“Don't be. It makes me feel better knowing you both had a good support system while we were apart.”

Nicholas became bored with the phone, and turned on my lap to climb off it. I helped him down, watching as he scurried off toward his toys. “I saw your session with Rupert,” I admitted while we both stared at my son.

“You did?” she asked, surprised.

“I wasn't supposed to. George Whitney helped me out.”

“I was hoping to see you when I got there. What happened with your boss?”

“He pulled me from the case.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “I'm so sorry, Nick.”

“I expected it.” I contemplated what else to admit to. She needed to know what I was planning. “What I didn't expect was when he forced me to take a leave of absence,” I added, opening the door to why he had.

Shock caused her eyes to bulge and her mouth to hang open. “For how long?”

“He said a few weeks, for now.”

“I understand why he'd remove you from Ronnie's case, but why make you take time off?” she asked, looking completely defeated. “Was it because of me?”

“Yes…but not only you.” I leaned my elbows on my knees while staring at my hands.

“Because you have a son, and his mother was involved with the murder victim.”

“And because he immediately picked up on our connection, and called me out on it.” I turned in my chair to face her. The more we stared at each other, the more the air crackled around us. “Angela, the only way I can protect you the way I need to is to marry you.”

“Marry me? You can't be serious,” she scoffed. When I didn't respond she asked, “You are serious?”

“Completely. I knew Rupert would pull me, make working on the case off-limits, but I had no clue he'd force me to take time off. Once he did that, the only way around the situation was to confirm he was right.”

“You admitted you had feelings for me?”

“On the record.”

“Oh,” she said when what I was implying dawned on her.

“Angela, I can't just sit back and forget what I know, or pretend I can drop the ball now and depend on others to find Ronnie's murderer. As your husband, anything I found out regarding Luca's or your brother's involvement in Ronnie's death wouldn't be admissible in the courts.”

“You suspect them, don't you?”

“I don't have enough information to conclude they killed Ronnie, but I need to find out who did. This way, I could continue to investigate the Delarro and Pucci war, I couldn't legally testify against you if it came to that, and at the same time I could ensure that you and Nicholas were safe. That's why I told Rupert that I loved you, that way he wouldn't question when we did get married. It's in the best interest of my son.”

“Your son? And is it in my best interest to marry you out of necessity? Or yours if you lose your career in the process?” She stood and walked into the kitchen. I watched her pour a huge glass of wine for herself, gulping half of it within seconds. “Wine?” she asked when she saw my eyes pinned to hers.

“No.”

She shrugged and poured more immediately taking another healthy gulp, before asking, “What about Stacie? Where does that leave her? Or maybe this improves your situation, staying with her when she's in town to get your fill of fucking?”

I ignored her atypical behavior, and walked to where she stood in the kitchen. Taking the wineglass from her hand, I placed it on the counter. “I know you didn't mean that. Talk to me.”

“What would you like me to say, Nick? You know how I felt about you then, and you know how I feel about you now. I've said it all. I'm just waiting for you to finally tell me how you feel.”

“Angela, you know how I felt about you then.”

“No, I
thought
I knew how you felt then. And I'm quite aware I'm the one who stopped you from ever telling me yourself. Forget then, what about now?”

“Now…I don't know what I feel.”

I looked over at Nicholas, who was oblivious to his surroundings as he focused on his truck. Moving my gaze back to his mother, my frown softened the instant I stared into her sad eyes.

I knew for sure that I'd fallen in love with my son, but regarding us, I was desperately trying to figure it all out.

BOOK: Glass Ceilings
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