Emery dropped her duffel bag on the floor beside her desk chair. Next came the purse. She threw that, nearly knocking over one of the walls of her cubicle. Apparently she was a bit more tense than she thought. So much for the theory that the walk from the metro would help clear her mind.
Her chair spun when she sat down. She had to grab on to the edge of the desk to keep from twirling. She was not in a twirling mood.
She toed off her sneakers and leaned over to dig through her bag. One jerk and the zipper got stuck in the material. She tugged and the tracks went crooked. She couldn’t get the teeth to come loose.
“That’s just freaking great.” She let the bag fall back to the floor with a thud and stared down at her socks. Another win for office decorum.
Phones rang on the main line. She glanced at the little lights and saw three people on hold. Looked like the usual busy day at the Jane Doe Network.
Before Emery could play phone backup, Caroline Montgomery stepped into the small space, all tall and sure and in charge. “You seem to be in a good mood.”
She’d joined the organization in her early thirties and now ran it ten years later. She functioned as listener, mentor and head ass-kicker, depending on what Emery needed at that moment. But mostly, she was a friend. Smart and committed with two kids and a partner at home. Emery coveted her long auburn hair and . . . well, everything. Caroline had the whole balanced-life, good-person combination down.
By comparison, Emery felt like an unmade bed. Today she blamed Brian or Wren—or whatever he was calling himself—for the messy sensation. “This day basically sucks.”
After a quick glance at her watch, Caroline frowned. “It’s not even lunchtime.”
God, was it even that late? “Exactly.”
“I guess I don’t need to ask how the meeting with the senator went.” Caroline stepped around the cubicle wall and leaned against the edge of Emery’s desk. “Did she even agree to see you?”
Caroline had money connections and worked them hard. She raised the cash and filed the paperwork that brought in the funding and kept the lights on. As her assistant and one of only five paid staffers, Emery ran the hundred volunteers and kept the workload afloat. One of the benefits was that she enjoyed a good relationship with Senator Dayton, but today it had flipped sideways on her at some point.
Now to explain that to Caroline.
Emery flopped back in her chair. “Oh, she invited me in.”
“That sounds . . . stop shaking your head and tell me what happened.” Caroline sounded open and eager to hear the details, but she crossed her arms in front of her. Not a good sign.
“She had a guest.” Emery still hadn’t dislodged her stomach from her throat from the surprise of walking in and seeing him in the office. “The guy I told you about from the coffee place yesterday.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “The creepy one with the hot outer wrapping.”
The words screeched across Emery’s brain. “Who said hot?”
Okay, he was. Objectively. She could admit that much. She’d never gone for the moody type. And the whole careful-word-choice thing? So annoying. But the perfect-body, perfect-face combo did have some merit. Not that she remembered saying any of that to Caroline.
“Uh, you did.” Caroline smiled. “You danced around it a bit, but I could decipher the code words.”
“I’m going to pretend that never happened.” Emery needed to focus on the other side. The not-hot side. “Creepy is more accurate. He actually showed up on my street last night.”
Caroline dropped her arms. “What?”
“No, it was fine.” She put up a hand to stop Caroline when she headed for the phone. “I threatened him with a bat.”
When Emery didn’t say anything else, Caroline sighed. “Okay, we’ll come back to that. So, this Wren sent his minion to a meeting with you and the senator.” She shrugged. “That sounds like progress. Sort of.”
It also sounded like her very smart boss was not understanding what really happened. Emery tried again. “Wren.”
Caroline froze. “What?”
Now she was getting it. “The creepy guy is Wren.”
Caroline’s frown only deepened. “Wait . . .”
“No minion. The guy with the coffee was actually Wren. He identified himself and the senator confirmed it. I think they’re friends, but who the hell knows.” They could be anything to each other, and Emery did not want to study that line of thought too much.
Some of the color left Caroline’s face. “What did you say to him?”
“I asked him about Tiffany.” Like she’d been waiting to do forever. Not that it helped. Emery knew she’d replay every word, fixating on how she could have handled the interview better and learned more. The desperate worry she’d blown it churned in her gut. At this rate she’d never be able to eat again.