“No, and I don’t have money to go wireless. My apartment offers free Internet. I tap into the Wi-Fi there, here, and at school when I need it.”
Like Curran, Declan seems to realize I’m holding something back. I’m thankful he doesn’t press. “Well, then Curran’s right. Looks like you need one. It’s from the Victim Services Unit.”
I glance up. “Won’t the team there miss it?”
“Not at this time. There’s a tremendous turnaround in that department—a new director’s taking over. She’s been saddled with supervising all the units in the county and is restructuring them accordingly. She’s visiting each one now to get things started, but her home base will eventually be here.”
“Wow. That seems like a lot of work.”
He laughs. “Tell me about it. It’s Miles Fenske’s daughter, though—I think her name’s Melissa—and if she’s a workhorse like her old man, I’m sure she can handle it.”
I tilt my head. “Isn’t there a conflict of interest, seeing how he’s the acting DA here?”
Declan unbuttons the cuffs of his sleeves and rolls the first one up. “I think that’s what most are going to assume. Hell, I did. But she started out in Harrisburg at the state level and really kicked ass—cut a lot of baggage loose, and hired people who were committed and had the education to help victims of violent crimes.”
I play with the phone in my hand as I consider his words. “How was she able to do that? With so many budget cuts, it seems impossible to hire the right people with the right education.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he says, adjusting his other sleeve. “From what I hear, her dedication caught the governor’s attention. The governor credits Melissa with her reelection based on her accomplishments and changes to the victim assistance program.” He quirks a brow. “The governor apparently gave her all the money she needs for the restructure, the hires, and pretty much anything Melissa wants—including smart phones for her staff. You’ll get one when they come in, in a couple of weeks.”
“How? I’m not working with Victim Services in any capacity.”
“Contessa, Miles told me he’d get me anything I need. You’re my legal intern, and you need a phone. So he secured one through his daughter.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Keep in mind that what you know will only get you so far. It’s who you know that will ultimately decide where you end up,” he adds with a wink.
A couple of weeks ago, his wink would have stopped my heart, and likely sparked a blush. Now, it only reminds me of Curran’s playful wink, and how much I’ve missed him all week.
“I suppose you’re right,” I say, quietly.
I lift the phone to find the number stickered on the back, and while I’m thankful to have the cell, my thoughts leave it, the office, my course load, and everything behind to return to Curran.
It’s been less than a month since he stumbled back into my life, and I can’t deny how hard I’m falling for him. His humor and some of his comments absolutely floor me; so does his über-macho attitude. But then he does something like arrange for me to have a phone, among other things….
He left my apartment Sunday afternoon after making a few private calls and taking me to brunch. He didn’t say much about us, but he kissed me goodbye and promised to call. After I walked him to the door, it took me a moment to realize my apartment was warm. I thought my father had taken pity on me until the building supervisor phoned me shortly after Curran went home.
“Is the heat working okay?” he asked.
“Ah, yes. Thank you,” I said, clearly confused.
“Good. That police officer wanted me to make sure it stayed that way.” He took a nervous breath. “Sorry I turned it off. I have to follow the owner’s request.”
My fingers dug into the receiver. “Does the police officer know it was my father who told you to disconnect it?”