by Taylor Lee
Jax didn’t take issue with the lieutenant’s obvious misstatement of the facts. After all, Viviana hadn’t known that Jax and his men were there. No, the little wildcat had infiltrated the cartel on her own. It was one of the bravest and most foolhardy initiatives he’d ever seen. Studying the disgruntled man in front of him, Jax pressed him. “Help me out, Lieutenant. From everything I’ve heard, the Belize mission was exceedingly dangerous. Why did Captain Michels approve it?”
Jensen snorted. “That’s simple. Michels could never say no to her. And if he did, Viviana would just go ahead and do whatever she’d planned and get permission later.”
Jax frowned. “That’s interesting. Particularly on such a dangerous mission. And you’re right, you all could have been killed, not to mention potentially destroyed a long-planned international mission.” At Jensen’s agreeing nod, Jax said, “How about you, Lieutenant Jensen? I assume you knew the potential danger of the mission; why didn’t you stop her? You must have had doubts about the efficacy of her plan. After all, allowing a single woman to infiltrate a dangerous international cartel—while it takes courage—is hardly well thought out.”
Jensen had the decency to blush at the implied criticism but quickly fell back on his tried and true excuse. “First of all, remember that Mick and I were there to back her up if anything went wrong.”
Jax nodded and kept from saying that yes, Jensen and O’Reilly were “there,” many miles away from possibly protecting their sergeant if and when something went wrong as it was certain to do.
Jensen seemed to understand that he was being criticized, because he rushed to explain. “You don’t understand. If I’d thought Captain Michels would have backed me up, I would have taken Moreau on. But she had him and every other damned official in this fucking place in a sling. I admit the Belize mission wasn’t well conceived. How could it have been? It was a typical harebrained Viviana Moreau fiasco. But that’s what life in the bunker with Sergeant Viviana Moreau is like.”
Jax pressed his lips together and pinned the frowning man with a narrowed gaze. “Correction, Lieutenant Jensen. That may be true, what life in the bunker with Sergeant Moreau was in the past. The operative word is was. It no longer is.”
****
Jax breathed a hard sigh after Jensen left. Damn, no wonder Viviana ran circles around the squad. Given that Jensen was her direct supervisor and apparently had as much control of her as a lion tamer twirling a chair and cracking a whip had of controlling a rabid lion, it wasn’t surprising that she was a loose cannon. Obviously her MO with both Jensen and Captain Michels was to do whatever she wanted and get permission later, if at all. It didn’t say much for Jensen’s leadership abilities, but even Jax admitted that Viviana Moreau was in a class by herself as far as chutzpah was concerned. He snorted a short laugh, knowing that he would soon have a chance to prove that he could do that which to date none of her other superiors had been able to do. Hearing the knock, he glanced at his watch. Seeing it was eight thirty, he rose from his chair and strode to the door.
When Viviana stepped back, clearly surprised that he’d met her at the door, Jax ushered her into the room. Ignoring her frown, he said pleasantly as he led her to the conference table on the side of the room, “Please, Sergeant Moreau, come in. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Pulling out a chair on one side of the table for her, he indicated with a nod that she should sit down. He moved to a chair across from her and sank into it. He smiled at her and said, “I thought we’d be more comfortable at the conference table. It will give us more room to go over your revised report.” He added, “I just finished a morning meeting and haven’t had a chance to look at your report.” Smiling, he went to his desk and shuffled through the stack of reports there, then frowned. “Hmm, I don’t see it here.” He nodded as he walked over to his inbox and said pleasantly, “Of course, you must have left it here.” Ploughing through the reports in the tray, he assumed a mystified expression. Glancing at her, he said coolly, “Hmm, it’s not here either with the rest of the squad’s reports.” Walking back to his chair, he made a production of pulling it out, then sinking into it. He focused a hard gaze on her, not allowing her to look away. His voice was soft. “While I instructed you to have your report on my desk the first thing this morning, I’ll give you a little leeway. Given the in-depth report I ordered you to produce, I can understand why you needed more time to do a thorough job. Given that, this one time I will excuse you and allow you to hand it in now.”
Viviana bit down on her lip. Knowing that her cheeks were flaming, she refused to cower. Glaring at the insufferable man who was studying her with an intent expression mixed with ersatz humor, she tossed her head. Not willing to make excuses, she met his gaze and refused to speak. Knowing the Donnybrook she’d brought on herself, she glared at him, making it clear that the ball was in his court.
He held her gaze for a long moment, then said, “I’m sure that there must be some mistake, Sergeant Moreau. I’m not seeing your report.”
Viviana shrugged, trying to ignore the somersaults pitching wildly in her gut. She’d known there wasn’t a chance in hell that she would write an in-depth report, but now, staring at the formidable man, she wondered how she’d thought she could blithely face him down. As it was, it was hard enough to breathe. At least she was sitting down. There was no way her shaking legs could have held her if she’d been standing. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she shrugged and assumed a nonchalance she was far from feeling. Refusing to make an excuse, she said simply, “That’s because I didn’t write one.”
He frowned and pressed his lips together in a narrow line, his firm jaw tightening further. He blew out an audible breath as he continued to stare at her. His voice was soft, almost pleasant. “In that case, Sergeant Moreau, we would appear to have a conflict. Given that you chose to disobey my direct order, I have no choice but to see that you do.” He rose from his chair and said, “You may leave, Sergeant. However, do know that until your full report is on my desk, you are on desk duty. And by the way, that means that you will be at your desk from eight thirty in the morning until five thirty in the evening.” Ignoring her startled gasp, he walked over to the door and opened it. “You’re excused, Sergeant Moreau.”
Viviana leapt to her feet and stared at him. “That . . . that’s not possible. I can’t do that. I have important appointments that I need to keep. I can’t miss them. You don’t understand.”
His voice was cool, although his emerald-hard eyes confirmed that he was deadly serious. “No, Sergeant, it is you who doesn’t seem to understand. I gave you a direct order, and you chose not to obey it.” Nodding at the door, he said, “To repeat, until you have submitted your complete report and I have approved it, you are on desk duty.”
Viviana was shaking so hard, she had to lean against the wall to keep from falling. She didn’t know when she had been so angry. She started to respond, but she couldn’t get the words past the baseball-sized lump in her throat. Jax continued to gaze at her through narrowed eyes, then nudged her toward the door. “In that you seem to have difficulty following orders, let me repeat, you’re excused, Sergeant Moreau.”
A wave of anger flooded over her. She stepped forward and reached for the door handle, preparing to slam it closed. Remembering his warning, she drew back just in time to see him raise an ironic brow. Not bothering to hide the slight smile tugging at his lips, he said quietly, “Good decision, Sergeant.”
Viviana stayed in the women’s locker room for at least twenty minutes. It took her that long to get her heart out of heart attack range. She didn’t know when in her life she had been angrier. For many long minutes she raged, wishing every kind of vicious evil on the arrogant man who had taken over her life. Pacing across the narrow room, she struggled to keep from screaming. She wanted to run back into the squad room shrieking at him and anyone else who got in her way. After she’d calmed enough to begin to think rationally, she acknowledged that he had given her an impossib
le choice. She could either do as he ordered or resign.
For a moment, she wrestled with the thought of appealing to Chief McElroy. She knew he was a declared Viviana groupie. Unfortunately neither the chief nor the commissioner had been reticent about declaring that one of the reasons they’d hired Jaxton Hughes was to get control of her. She acknowledged in a choice between backing her or the arrogant commander, there was no question that as much as the two men liked her, she would draw the short straw. Understanding that hard reality, Viviana gave into the fact that while she’d been a loner all of her life, she’d never been as starkly alone as she was now. Even Mick O’Reilly had caved to the commander’s charm and power. Remembering her erstwhile partner cajoling her, trying to convince her to give the “big guy” a chance, Viviana almost laughed aloud. Unfortunately the sound got stuck in the sob in her throat. Was Mick so completely brain-dead that he didn’t realize you didn’t negotiate with Jaxton Hughes? It was his way or the highway.
It took her at least forty-five minutes to come to grips with the impossible situation she was in. Part of which she acknowledged she’d brought on herself. Why in hell hadn’t she just written some stupid report and told him to shove it up his ass. But no, she had to take him on. Finally knowing that she couldn’t even leave to hit the running trail, she forced herself to go back to her desk. Staring straight ahead, she opened her computer and prepared to write the report he’d ordered her to write. In less than ten minutes she’d created a two-page document that summarized in brief incomplete sentences the work she was doing. Striding to Madge Peterson’s desk, the commander’s desk sergeant, she asked her to see that the commander got it.
She wasn’t quite daring enough to leave as she wanted to. Never one to avoid poking the tiger, even she decided that this wasn’t the time to confront the formidable commander. Remembering that he had said she was on desk duty until he’d approved her report, she headed for the precinct gym. When she returned from a challenging workout where she’d driven herself to limits she hadn’t known she could reach, she saw the report on her desk. It took her less than thirty seconds to acknowledge that she’d met her match in Commander Hughes. Sprinkled across the two pages in red pencil were cryptic remarks. Beside her CI’s names were questions like: telephone number? address? status of operation? To which he had added, “please explain in detail.” At the bottom of the second page he’d written, “please do not submit this again until it is complete.”
Chapter 13
For the first two hours after she returned to her desk, Viviana was virtually shell-shocked. She could not believe what the arrogant man had done. Rubbing her nose in his powerful position, he’d treated her like a recalcitrant student who had failed to complete a required assignment. Noting that desk duty came damn close to the forced study hall she remembered from junior high school, she struggled with the choices facing her. She finally broke through her impotent rage to come to grips with the reality of her untenable situation. The breakthrough was the text message on her burner phone that she used to connect with Sly. His message was to the point. “Where the fuck are you? Kiddie cat is willing to meet. Now!”
Understanding the code, she realized that Sly had managed to schedule a meeting with his source, the young prostitute who had turned Sly onto the possibility of a major prostitution ring that involved underage girls. Blinded by the indignity of the position she was in and furious that she couldn’t leave her desk to meet with a potential victim, she finally acknowledged that the only way she could deal with the overbearing commander was to pretend to give in. If anything, Viviana was an accomplished actress. Knowing that pretending to accede to his power was the most challenging role she would play, she gave in to the necessity.
For the next hour, she wrote a report that Ms. Cranston, her most hated high school English teacher, would have been hard-pressed to grade lower than an A plus. Handing the four-page document to Madge Peterson, she asked her to see that Commander Hughes got it. Madge glanced at it and said, “Sure thing, Vivi. Only I’m not sure when Commander Hughes will be back. He had an important meeting with the mayor and a bunch of bigwigs. I don’t know if he plans on coming back in today. But I’ll put your report on the top of his desk where he’ll be sure to see it when he does return.”
Watching the hands on the wall clock tick by hour after hour, Viviana grew more and more frantic. The later it got in the day, the more convinced she was that the arrogant SOB was doing it on purpose. As the hours passed and grew closer to the end of the day shift, she was convinced that not only would he not be back today but conceivably would drag out her punishment for days to come. At first she was consumed by anger, but as the day lagged on she began to feel helpless, a feeling she realized she rarely, if ever, felt. She’d always relied on her resiliency, her ability to rise above any adversity. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt as if she were up against a battle she might not win. As the shift ended and she’d refused at least three offers for an after-work pit stop at Flemings, she was as close to feeling beaten as she ever had. She hadn’t realized how much she’d let it show until Mick O’Reilly yanked a chair from an adjoining desk and plunked it down beside her.
“Okay, hot stuff, if I have to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness, I will.”
At first Viviana was confused, not understanding what she was sure was one of his silly jokes. Then she remembered their challenging conversation this morning. She shook her head, realizing that something which had hurt desperately at the time, given her hideous day, was a non-starter. Feeling as compromised as she ever had, she put up her hands, not wanting to try to answer her partner’s plea.
Mick persisted. “Seriously, Vivi, the guys and I will buy you a whole bottle of Maker’s Mark, all for you, if you’ll at least smile as you kick our asses to the curb.”
It was at that moment that Viviana realized that six of her best drinking buddies were standing off to the side, exchanging troubled glances. She hadn’t realized that she’d let her angst show and was determined to shake off her clearly unusual upset.
“C’mon, Viv. Give us a break. You haven’t refused a happy hour since Jensen said he preferred not to drink with his subordinates, but he’d make an exception for you. I’ll never forget the prick’s face when you said thanks but no thanks. You explained sweetly that the last time you’d been in a subordinate position was with a guy with a three-inch dick, and no matter how much you hated hurting his feelings, you were concerned that it couldn’t reach far enough to make it worth sticking around.”
At the shouts of appreciative laughter, Davie Madison chimed in, sticking it to the absent lieutenant. “It took all Lieutenant Jensen had to not take out his trusty dick stick to make sure it wasn’t him you were talking about.”
Mick added to the frivolity when he said, “Kind of like those guys at the mayor’s bash that our Vivi rightfully called a cluster of insipid little men off in the corner measuring their dicks with financial calculators.”
At the roars of appreciative laughter and shouts of “that’s our girl,” a deep voice cut through. “May I presume that the Enchantress didn’t relegate any SJPD members to that calculating group?”
The crowd of men surrounding Viviana turned to welcome the commander, who was standing off to the side with a grin on his face and a twinkle in his riveting green eyes.
Mick brought down the house when he said, “Hell no, Commander. Lieutenant Jensen had left by that time.”
“Shorty” Swenson, the six-foot, eleven-inch former center for the Golden State Warriors, broke into the raucous laughter when he dipped his head and met the commander’s gaze. “We were just trying to drag the Enchantress away from her desk, where she’s been all day, to hit Flemings. We’d be honored, Commander Hughes, if you’d join us. Maybe you can convince Viv to join us.”
At the resounding seconding from the eager crowd of men, Jax stepped back and glanced over at Viviana. “It would be my pleasure, fellows, but I need to check in with Serg
eant Moreau. We tentatively planned to meet.” Jax nodded to her and said, “Come to my office if you would, Sergeant Moreau, so we can compare calendars.”
Viviana managed to smile at her grinning comrades, who were clearly excited that they’d not only broken her out of her self-imposed isolation but also had a chance to buddy up to their new boss. She followed Jax to his office. He waited at the doorway for her to precede him into his office. Without looking at her, he shrugged off his casual suit coat and dragged his hands through his stylishly cropped hair as he headed toward his desk. Glancing over at her, he said, “Madge indicated that you had something you wanted me to see. Can I assume that you took the opportunity to write your report?”
It took everything Viviana had to simply nod. He met her silence with a slight frown, then picked up the report that, as she’d promised, Madge had put on his desk. Glancing from the report to Viviana, he said, “Well at least you managed to get past two pages. Is it too much to ask if this is an actual professional report, Sergeant Moreau? Worthy of a police officer of your caliber?” When she found she couldn’t respond, he must have seen the emotion on her face because he relented somewhat. “Tell you what, we’ve both had a long day. How about we meet with your admirers for a quick drink and agree to deal with your report tomorrow morning?”
Viviana raised her chin. “Does that mean I’m off desk duty?”
He shrugged. “That depends on whether you completed your assignment. The one that I gave you three days ago.” He drilled her with a hard stare. “As I clearly stated, you’re on desk duty until you and I have discussed what the fuck you are doing while you are working on SJPD time, and you get my approval to continue doing whatever the fuck you are doing.”