Searing Lies (Love, Power & Sin)

by Marie Astor

  “If I may, Instructor Reed,” Ally cut in and gave the answer to the question, listing the major suppliers of energy in the U.S. After all, she knew the list only too well: Roberts Enterprises had done or prospected business with many of these companies over the years.

  “Ms. Roberts, the next time you ask whether you may do something it’d be wise to wait for the reply. And as for you, Ms. Jones, it is clear to me that you can’t afford not to pay attention in class,” Reed’s tone was harder than steel. “And as for the rest of you, you should be taking notes—Ms. Roberts’ answer was perfectly correct.”

  Ally ducked her head. The first day had only begun and she was already sweating bullets.

  An hour later Reed dismissed the class. Ally rose from her seat and exhaled with relief; she had been burning with humiliation the entire time. With their heads lowered, she and Delilah started making their way for the door.

  “Nice going, Ally.” Heather Darlington, the girl who’d sat next to Ally on the bus, smirked. “Maybe you should buy a GPS so that you could get to class on time.”

  From the scowl on Delilah’s face, Ally could tell that her roommate was about to snap back. She touched Delilah’s arm. Big-mouthed retorts weren’t going to make living down their humiliation any easier; in fact, they’d probably make it worse.

  “It has been my experience that helping one’s peers is a far greater show of character than bullying them, Ms. Darlington.” Reed’s crisp voice stunned them as his thin figure passed by.

  “Classic.” Heather rolled her eyes and flipped her hair, shoving past Ally.

  “I guess Reed isn’t so bad after all,” Delilah smiled.

  “Yeah, but from now on I’m setting the alarm clock at six a.m.” Ally checked the schedule and felt her shoulders sag. The next class was physical education, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to the gym.

  Chapter 12

  At seven thirty a.m. the next morning, Ally ambled into the cafeteria. Each step was an effort as every muscle in her body was vibrating with piercing pain, courtesy of yesterday’s physical education class. She glanced at the skillets with eggs and bacon and felt her stomach turn—the thought of food seemed impossible. What she really wanted was to crawl back in bed and whimper.

  “Come on,” Delilah urged her. “We’d better eat quickly if we want to make it to class on time.”

  Ally shook her head. “I think I’ll just stick with coffee.”

  “Not if you want to make it through the day you won’t.” Delilah began to pile up food on two plates. “Here.” She shoved a heaping plate at Ally. “Let’s go sit over there.” Delilah pointed at empty seats away from the two rows where the majority of the recruits were congregating.

  Afraid that her push-up weary arms might fail her, Ally gripped her plate with both hands and followed Delilah to the table.

  “How come you’re not in any pain?” Ally asked after she had carefully lowered her burning glutes onto the seat.

  “I used to do gymnastics at school. I’ve been through far worse than yesterday,” Delilah replied between mouthfuls. “Sure, I’m sore today, but I’m used to the feeling.”

  “It’s a feeling I could definitely do without.” Ally picked at the eggs with her fork. “I think I was the worst in the class.”

  “You weren’t the worst,” Delilah assured her. “More like in the bottom twenty percent.”

  “You’re being overly generous,” Ally sighed.

  Ally had never been one to work out consistently. Mostly she left her physical activity to walks and occasional jogs, and lately she hadn’t even been doing that as she had more pressing matters on her mind than personal fitness. She figured that as long as she fit into her clothes, she was fine. Unfortunately, phys ed Instructor Matthews thought it was necessary to test their endurance and push it to the limit. They had to run three miles, followed by an insane amount of push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, and squats. Each exercise had a different station, with Matthews timing their performance. Ally had been the last one to arrive at every station, pathetically struggling to complete each exercise under Matthew’s cold stare. She was pretty sure she was on his bad list now.

  “Is this seat taken?” Doug Cleary, a gangly recruit Ally remembered being almost as bad as herself yesterday asked, looking at the seat next to them.

  “By all means,” said Delilah.

  “Thanks.” Doug placed his tray on the table and took a seat. His movements appeared to be as pained as Ally’s.

  “Yesterday was pretty bad, huh?” Ally asked in a show of support.

  “Bad doesn’t even begin to describe it. When I got up this morning my legs nearly buckled under me. I thought this place was supposed to train our minds, not torture our bodies. What are they trying to do? Prepare us for the Olympics?”

  “Quit being such a crybaby.” Delilah waved her hand. “Running three miles and doing twenty push-ups isn’t all that bad.”

  “I’m with Doug,” Ally muttered. “And what about all those sit-ups and pull-ups we had to do?” she added. “Of course I couldn’t even manage a single pull-up. I saw Matthews mark it in his notebook.”

  “I wasn’t much better than you,” Doug chimed in. “I barely managed to do one, and only half-way up. Why couldn’t we have a contest on building an operating system or doing spectrographic analysis? I’d like to see Matthews do that.”

  “I think we’re going to do that but in Reed’s class,” Ally pointed out.

  “I still don’t get the point of this phys ed crap. They knew what they were getting with me. Do I look like someone with exceptional athletic abilities?” Doug pointed at his skinny chest. “I don’t think so. I run laps with my brains, not my legs.”

  “You’d better shape up, Doug,” Delilah teased him. “Or they might just kick your brainy butt out.”

  “They can certainly do that,” Doug countered. “I have no problem working for a research company instead.”

  “We’d better get a move on if we’re going to make it to class on time,” Ally interjected. She consulted the schedule and felt her pulse quicken. The first class of the day was Behavioral Skills, taught by Instructor Morrissey.

  ***

  “Good morning, class.” Instructor Morrissey’s rich deep voice carried all the way to the back of the class without any difficulty.

  Ally ducked her head and focused her attention on the plastic desk surface, conscious of Delilah’s needling stare. Instructor Morrissey was hot, but Ally would be damned if she would admit it. Hence the choice of her seating: she figured Morrissey’s charm would have less of a chance reaching her from a distance. But she had been mistaken: the man looked just as handsome from a distance as he did up close.

  “This class is called Behavioral Skills, and you’re probably wondering what behavioral skills have to do with the Department of Energy. After all, you’re all adults and you all know how to interact with people, or you wouldn’t have been selected for this program. Allow me to put your doubts at rest. The skills you will learn in this class will go far beyond the day-to-day human interactions. As you all know, energy, be it electricity, oil or gas, is one of the most precious resources today. If controlled by the wrong hands the results could be devastating. It will be your job—if you graduate of course—to make sure that this doesn’t happen. Which means that you will have to learn how to interact with people to get the information you need from them. And sometimes these interactions will have to go beyond a simple conversation. You’re probably wondering where I’m going with all of this”—he cast a sweeping glance over the now slightly dazed recruits—“and since a picture is worth a thousand words, it’s time we had a little demonstration.” Morrissey pointed at a utility cart in the corner. “Just give me a moment here.” He wheeled the cart to the middle of the room. “Now, imagine that this cart is a bar stand and that you’re having a drink with someone you know to be in possession of the blueprints of the largest nuclear plants in the U.S. This person has ob
tained this information illegally and you’ve been tasked with retrieving it. The information is saved on a portable drive.” Morrissey held up a flash drive. “The person is by the bar, about to order a drink. Now we need a volunteer.” Morrissey halted for what felt like an eternity to announce his victim. “Ms. Roberts, would you be so kind as to come up here?”

  “Oh, I’m not really very good at this kind of thing,” Ally blurted out.

  “That’s why you’re here—to get good at it. Now, please come to the front of the class.”

  Cursing her big mouth, Ally made her way to the head of the class. By now she was certain that she was becoming the laughingstock of the entire class.

  “Thank you, Ms. Roberts,” Morrissey nodded at her when Ally reached the front of the class. “Now, if you were in the situation I just described, how would you go about completing the assignment?”

  “I would try to get close to the person and then distract them,” Ally offered.

  “Excellent. Now, you’re the person who’s in possession of the data.” Morrissey handed Ally the flash drive. “I’m going to turn around so that you can hide it somewhere on you and then I’m going to try to retrieve the flash drive from you.” Morrissey turned his face toward the front wall.

  Suddenly Ally realized that her clothes didn’t have a good hiding spot. She’d felt so sore this morning that she’d opted for stretch pants that didn’t have pockets and the same went for her T-shirt. Thank God she’d thrown on a jacket—at least it had pockets. She quickly shoved the flash drive into her left pocket. But even if her pants did have pockets, she would’ve opted for the jacket as the hiding place anyway: she really didn’t want to risk Morrissey’s hands going anywhere near her lower body.

  “Done,” Ally said loudly, praying that the spectacle would be over with already.

  “Excellent,” said Morrissey. “Now if you’ll please take a place behind this cart here and pretend that it’s a bar stand.”

  Ally did as she was told. Within moments Morrissey was standing next to her, a little closer than she’d expected.

  “May I buy you a drink, miss?” Morrissey asked in a voice that made it clear that he’d asked the question many times.

  “Yes,” Ally agreed, instantly regretting her answer. This was a class exercise, not a date. She mustn’t let her unease about Morrissey get in the way, or risk getting a bad grade, or worse yet, fail.

  “Bartender!” Morrissey called out an imaginary bartender. “What will it be?” Morrissey turned towards Ally, his eyes linking with hers.

  Somehow she managed to avoid eye contact with him. It was an old trick her father had taught her. When faced with people you’re uncomfortable with, relax your eyes and look through them, not at them. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m perfectly capable of buying my own drink,” Ally dismissed her instructor. “I’d like Campari and soda.”

  “An interesting choice for an interesting woman,” Morrissey remarked, a slight smile playing on his lips. “You won’t mind if I join you?”

  “This is a public bar.” Ally shrugged, doing her best to appear indifferent.

  With a wink, Morrissey held up two plastic glasses filled with water, which he’d retrieved from the bottom shelf of the cart, and placed one of the glasses in front of Ally.

  “Cheers.” Morrissey lifted his glass and Ally followed suit.

  Where is this going? Ally wondered, aware of the entire class’s eyes focused on her. Delilah was probably having a blast. Ally’s hand involuntarily swept over the pocket that held the flash drive. Conscious of the gesture, Ally dropped her hand, hoping that Morrissey hadn’t seen it.

  With a swift, sharp gesture Morrissey upset his glass, the water spilling all over the cart. “Oh, excuse me, I’m such a klutz!”

  In a knee-jerk reaction, Ally jumped to the side, bumping into Morrissey who somehow happened to be standing right behind her. “So sorry,” she mumbled, instantly moving away.

  “That’s quite alright,” Morrissey said, reaching for a piece of cloth on the bottom shelf of the cart and wiping the mess. “I think we proved the point we needed to prove with this exercise.”

  Ally’s hand reached for her pocket—needless to say it was empty. “I didn’t feel anything!” she exclaimed, more intrigued than embarrassed.

  “That’s the whole point,” Morrissey replied, clearly pleased with himself. “And that’s what I’m going to teach you in this class. You may take your seat now, Allyson.”

  Ally spent the rest of the class feverishly taking notes as Morrissey revealed tricks of the human psyche that weren’t part of any psychology class. How to make people trust you, how to get close to them, how to get them to do what you want. It was no wonder Morrissey was so likeable. He was an expert on all of these things, but from then on Ally resolved to think about him only as her instructor.

  By the time the bell rang, Ally’s head was spinning. There was so much to learn and today was only the first class.

  “Ms. Roberts,” Morrissey called her name just as Ally was about to leave.

  “Yes?” Ally replied, turning around.

  “I hope you won’t hold it against me for calling you to the front of the class. I hadn’t thought about how,” Morrissey paused, “embarrassing it might be.”

  “It was fine,” Ally lied. “I promise to do better next time.”

  “Oh, you did very well, especially for your first class,” Morrissey replied. “And please don’t feel singled out. I promise to embarrass the rest of your classmates in equal measure.”

  Ally smiled. “I’ll hold you to your promise.”

  “I’ve heard Instructor Matthews was tough on you yesterday,” Morrissey said just as Ally was about to leave.

  “No more so than he was on everyone else,” Ally replied, hoping that Morrissey hadn’t heard the full account of her pathetic performance.

  “You seem a little sore—” he cut himself off, a faint redness creeping over his cheeks. “I meant to say that when I was in training, swimming always helped to get the soreness out. There’s a swimming pool in the basement of the gym you might want to take advantage of. The steam room isn’t too bad either.”

  “Thank you for the tip.” Ally shifted on her feet. She didn’t exactly feel comfortable discussing her sore muscles with Morrissey.

  “You’re welcome. You’d better get to your next class,” he said abruptly. “You don’t want to be late.”

  Chapter 13

  Jake Morrissey gathered his papers. All in all his first class had gone smoothly, except for his decision to call upon Allyson Roberts. He’d figured there’d be no harm in asking Allyson to participate in his little demonstration. In fact, he’d done it on purpose to prove to himself that he could ignore his attraction to her, that in fact there was no attraction to speak of. He’d thought this through beforehand and had almost managed to convince himself of it. What a mistake that had been. He had been barely able to maintain the presence of mind to lift the flash drive out of Allyson’s jacket pocket. Good thing it was a classroom demonstration and not a real-life assignment. The proximity of her, the smell of her hair, which he knew was standard-issue dormitory shampoo . . . but somehow the ordinary scent became extraordinary when mixed with Ally’s own smell. Stop it, Jake thought, you’re starting to sound like a pervert. It was sad but true. He was mortified to think of his conversation with Allyson after class; he’d meant to reassure her that he didn’t single her out on purpose, but instead he’d completely bungled things up and ended up talking about her sore muscles. Talk about a touchy subject. And his face had flushed as though he were a dorky teenager. What the hell was wrong with him? Jake clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. This wasn’t a game. He had to put these dangerous thoughts out of his mind, but the more he tried not to think about her, the more he ended up doing so. If things continued this way, the next three months were going to be torture. Still, even if he couldn’t control his thoughts he could control his actions, and th
ere was no way his relationship with Allyson Roberts was going to be anything other than professional.

  He hadn’t always been this principled and regimented. There’d been plenty of times he’d bent the rules in the past. The old Jake Morrissey wouldn’t have waited long to ask Allyson Roberts out and would find his way into her bed by the end of the first date, second at most. Women were his specialty. Whenever men were in a tough spot they always needed someone to confide in, to build up their confidence, and when they were victorious they needed someone to brag to, to glorify their victories. Women were the vessels men poured their secrets and emotions into, and Jake was damn good at getting those secrets out of them. It was, after all, part of his training, part of his job to secure information by any means necessary. Correction: it used to be part of his job before things had gone horribly wrong. Now his job was to teach, and he was determined to keep his hands off his students.

  ***

  Ally slid the electronic key though her room’s lock, pushed the door open, and dropped her bag onto the floor. She had spent the past hour swimming long, determined strokes at the pool. At first she’d felt too exhausted to go. They’d had another marathon of running and push-ups at the hated phys ed class, and all she wanted to do by the end of it was collapse onto her bed. Despite the awkward circumstances in which it was given, she decided to take Morrissey’s advice about the pool, and was glad to find that it worked. The pool had been soothing, both physically and mentally. The soreness in her muscles was almost gone now. It would probably return tomorrow, but at least she had relief for a few hours. She’d never been anything more than a casual swimmer, but now she was thinking of adding swimming into her daily routine. She felt lithe and pliant, re-energized for the night of homework that awaited her.

  As if it wasn’t bad enough that they spent hours cooped up in class, they had homework too, and it wasn’t easy stuff either. By her estimate it would take at least three hours to complete. She felt like she were back in college, cramming for finals. The only difference being that college finals had lasted a week, but this program was going to last three long months. Still, it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle, or at least she was determined to think so. Convincing herself was half the job.