Lucas nodded. “That’s what they all say. But the bottom line is that we have plenty of evidence that suggests you’re romantically involved with Cullen Sharpe, and that you have every reason to lie on his behalf. A judge and jury will likely see things the FBI’s way, not your way. Remember that, the next time you consider telling Cullen about me, or about any conversation we might have now or in the future.”
Ivy felt tears starting to well in her eyes, and before she knew it they were pouring down her cheeks, and she hated it. She hated that Lucas was seeing he’d gotten to her, just as intended.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this to me,” Ivy said softly.
“You might just be unlucky,” Lucas said, standing up. “You got caught up with the wrong guy at the wrong time. Personally, I don’t care what you did or didn’t know about the man when you started fucking him.”
Her shoulders shook. “You’re evil,” she whispered, but her words were barely audible.
Lucas continued, as if he was discussing the weather. “I’ve told you that he’s a bad guy and the United States Justice Department is trying to stop him,” Lucas said. “You’re going to help us from now on, or you’re going to go down with Cullen Sharpe and the rest of his sinking ship. Understood?”
She didn’t look at him. She just closed her eyes. “Leave me alone,” she whispered.
Lucas stood there for a long time. “Don’t test me, Ivy. Cullen Sharpe might seem like a powerful dude with big connections, but I promise you that the U.S. government is much bigger than him. Think about that before you do anything stupid.”
When she opened her eyes again, Lucas was walking back into the building.
She spent the rest of the afternoon floating, as if her mind had somehow snapped loose from its moorings.
Knowing that Lucas was watching her, knowing that she was now part of his monstrous web of lies and manipulations that were far beyond her ability to comprehend.
Ivy could hardly concentrate on her data entry.
She was so exhausted when the clock hit 5:00 p.m. that she nearly cried in relief. As she hustled out of the cubicle farm, making sure to stay far ahead of Lucas, Ivy passed by Emma Marks’s office.
“Ivy,” Emma called, waving at her. “Could you come in here?”
Ivy sighed. She felt pain in her stomach and her chest, and a weariness that was nearly indescribable. But she entered the office, trying to smile like everything was just fine. “Hey,” Ivy said. “Anything wrong?”
Emma sat back and twirled a fancy black pen in her fingers as she watched Ivy with cold eyes. “Your numbers are falling,” she said. “Falling behind the targets—your errors are climbing and your speed is dwindling.”
“I know, but Cullen—I mean, Mister Sharpe—he said that he told you I had errands to run and…”
Emma held up a hand to silence her. “I’m not talking about that,” she said. “Even accounting for the time away from the office running errands, your numbers are becoming unacceptable.”
Just the way Emma said the phrase ‘running errands,’ as if the idea was absurd, allowed Ivy to know that the woman wasn’t buying that excuse for even one second. Ivy felt embarrassed and exposed, yet again.
“I’ll do better,” she said softly.
“I should hope so,” Emma told her, “because don’t think you can get away with this forever.” Her hate-filled eyes bored into Ivy relentlessly. “Cullen is a very mercurial man with evolving tastes. One day he might find someone interesting, exciting, intriguing, and the next—“ Emma snapped her fingers. “Poof. All of that interest is gone.”
Ivy glared at her. “I don’t know what you’re even talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” Emma replied with a smirk.
“If you have something to say to me, then say it.”
“I just did,” the blond woman shot back. “This is your first official warning. Hit your targets or you’ll get another. And another. And then you’ll be gone. I have a feeling that by the time you’re getting warning number three, perhaps Cullen won’t be so keen on defending your poor work any longer.”
Ivy turned on her heel. “Message received,” she said.
“Bye, bye!” Emma called after her in a singsong voice that made Ivy’s shoulders rise in frustration.
But Ivy just kept walking, knowing that to engage would only give the bitchy supervisor exactly the confrontation she was looking for.
Ivy’s nerves were frayed and she felt completely numb, as if the world around her wasn’t even completely real. The people passing by and the sounds out on the street didn’t seem like they had any substance.
How can this be happening? Was I really just threatened by an FBI agent today? Am I really in this situation?
She felt like a fly ensnared in a spider’s web, only there were three spiders surrounding her and no possibility of escape or help.
As she was walking, hardly looking where she was going, a car pulled alongside her. The window rolled down. It was Cullen looking out at her. “Where are you going?” he said.
“Home.” She tried not to stare into those eyes that seemed to see right into her soul—eyes that could read her every emotion.
“Let me take you,” he offered.
“No, thanks.”