by Taylor Lee
Serge’s response was cautious. “You know me well enough to know that I’m not an alarmist, and hell, I’m a sucker for salacious gossip. But no, Jax, the rumblings I’m hearing from some well-placed sources confirm that Vega’s dangerous past may well have crept into his shining star present.”
Jax ground his back teeth together so hard, it was a wonder they didn’t crack. Surprisingly, his words were cool and would have been almost cordial if they hadn’t been streaked with his implied threat. “I don’t have to tell you, Serge, that I need every goddamn thing you have. Now! Make that yesterday, Agent Stryker.”
“Copy that, boss man. I’m on it faster than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.”
Jax managed to choke out a short laugh. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes sir,’ Agent Stryker.”
Serge gave him a thumbs-up gesture. “I hear you, Commander Hughes. And yes, I’d be shitting you if I didn’t say that you have reason—make that reasons—to be concerned.”
****
Viviana was grateful to learn that Enrique and Nicolas had left early for LA, avoiding the necessity of riding with them. Frankly, she didn’t know how she was going to deal with the star of the show. In the cold light of the morning, she was more troubled with his midnight appearance at her hotel room door than she’d been the night before. Even an eight-mile early dawn run hadn’t helped to tamp down her unease. Remembering Sonia Vega’s open hostility and the cadre of starstruck young women that comprised 90% of his staff, Viviana acknowledged what shouldn’t have been a surprise. Clearly, Vega was a player. Why she’d thought he wasn’t now seemed more than a little naïve. By the end of her run, Viviana had conceded that Jax was right to be concerned. Not that she would ever give in to Vega, but she’d been truly surprised when he appeared at her door—with a bottle of booze in his hand, no less. She admitted that she’d been more than a little taken with the charming man. The horrific tales he’d confided to her confirmed that like her he had a hideous past. It had made her feel a kinship with him, a sense that they shared experiences that no one who hadn’t had them could possibly understand. She remembered Jax’s anger when she’d said as much to him. Now, in the cold light of day, Viviana wondered if she’d blinded herself to hard truths about both Enrique and Jax. Perhaps her newfound hero didn’t deserve the pedestal she’d put him on. And, just maybe, Jax saw more of the total man than she’d been willing to see.
Over the course of the day, Viviana allowed herself to see Enrique and Nicolas sans the admittedly rose-colored glasses she’d been wearing. Without a doubt, Enrique was a gifted performer. He was dashingly handsome and oozed charisma. However, the audiences he attracted were comprised primarily of women, many of whom were young and barely voting age—if that. Viviana acknowledged that she also had a committed fan base, but unlike Enrique’s, her followers included a variety of people. They were men and women of all ages—who all seemed drawn to the issues she championed. Enrique’s crowds were different. Midday, Viviana had the uncomfortable realization that given the crowd of screaming fans responding to his every word, they could have been at a hard rock concert, not a political rally addressing important issues.
To her surprise, Nicolas also seemed to have dropped a mask, or more likely, she was allowing herself to see past his amiable guise that had attracted her the day before. He greeted her warmly when they met up at the first rally, but she couldn’t help but hear the calculation behind his smiling question. “I trust you had a restful night, Enchantress.” He added with a wink, “I know how challenging sleeping in unfamiliar beds can be.”
Horrified that Nicolas knew his boss had made a play for her, or worse, that Enrique had embellished their late-night not-to-be rendezvous, Viviana responded curtly. “Not so, Nicolas. I slept quite well, thank you. As I told you last night, I needed a hot shower and a hefty shot of expensive scotch, both of which I had before climbing into bed for a restful sleep.”
He narrowed his eyes and nodded. “I’m glad to hear that, Sergeant Moreau. We have a jam-packed schedule today, and I fear you will need all the rest you can get.”
Viviana smiled at him and said sweetly, “Clearly, you don’t know many cops, Nicolas. Four nights out of the week I’m lucky to get more than three hours of sleep. If I’m not on duty, I’m combing the Internet for information on our latest case.”
“Ah, but of course. Forgive me, Viviana, but it is hard for me to square the fact that you are a hard-nosed cop when you could be the centerfold of any gentleman’s magazine.” Pouring gasoline on those unwise coals, he added sagaciously, “And then you also have that righteous police chief, no doubt wanting a piece of that centerfold material on a nightly basis.”
Truly shocked at his outrageous statement, with effort, Viviana managed to keep her response light. “Again, it’s clear you don’t know many cops, Nicolas, or I doubt you would say such a disrespectful thing to a woman who has a black belt in four different disciplines of martial arts.”
Apparently not impressed with her blatant threat, Garza gave an offhand shrug. “To be honest, Viviana, I stopped being concerned about cops, male and female, when I was thirteen years old. I learned the hard way that most of them were more corrupt than the bangers recruiting me to join their gangs.”
Facing the narrowed-eyed man, Viviana didn’t couch her response any more than he had. “I see. However, you might want to consider that the lessons you learned in the hood when you were a kid don’t always serve you well in the adult world. Particularly if you are hawking a candidate who portrays himself as a law and order crusader.”
Hours later, Viviana was glad when they ended their last rally and headed for the hotel. She and Enrique had been cordial throughout the day as they worked the crowds and gave interview after interview to the horde of excited media. He was unfailingly respectful of her and often stepped back to allow her to take a particularly challenging question that required her expertise. As the day progressed, she almost convinced herself that her reaction to his midnight advance was overblown. Rather than making a pass at her, she decided it was more likely that Enrique was understandably stoked by their successful day and wanted to share it with her.
It was obvious that she was fooling herself when she ran into Sonia as she came out of the conference room where she, Enrique, and Nicolas had been mapping out their schedule for the next day. The stony-eyed woman started to brush by her but then apparently changed her mind. Planting herself in front of Viviana, not letting her pass, Sonia glared at her. Her lip curled up in a disdainful sneer. “I hope you don’t think you’re the only one, Viviana.”
Managing to squelch her shocked reaction, Viviana stood her ground. There was no way that she could pretend not to understand Sonia’s ugly assertion. Rather than try, she said simply, “You’re wrong, Sonia. There is nothing between your husband and me.”
Sonia snorted. “You are a lot of things, Sergeant Moreau, but stupid is not one of them.”
Viviana responded coolly, “You are correct, Sonia. I’m not. What you don’t seem able to grasp is that I’m very much involved with a formidable man.”
Sonia gave a dismissive shrug and said with a sly smirk as she went into the conference room, “That’s not what I hear, Sergeant. You might be wise to stick a little closer to home.”
Chapter 23
Why she let Sonia’s ugly assertion bother her, Viviana didn’t know, but her anxiety rose when Jax called her later that evening. At first, the sound of his voice sent shards of excitement over her wire-tight nerves. She almost didn’t mind his crisp tone, she was so glad that he’d reached out to her.
Her relief was short-lived when he said, “Thank you for taking my call, Sergeant Moreau. I expected that you would be too occupied to respond to a call from the SJPD police chief who, incidentally, is your boss.” When she didn’t answer, he added sardonically, “Much as I hate to interrupt your save-the-world mission, Sergeant, I’m calling to confirm when you will return. You indicated that your sabbatical
was a three-day jaunt, which I presume means we can expect you on duty Thursday.”
His dismissive attitude was bad enough. But the fact that he didn’t so much as say that he missed her, particularly when she’d been aching to hear his voice, undid her. Already feeling vulnerable and rather than tell him she missed him and could hardly wait to see him, Viviana took umbrage at his taunt regarding the purpose of her mission.
“I regret that you continue to make fun of what I’m doing, Jax. Obviously, you don’t care about the issues that I’m working on or believe that, with my help, Enrique Vega has a very real chance to become our next governor.”
“You are partially correct, Sergeant. Regarding the issues that you and your SJPD team are working on, I consider them critically important. Which is why I’m calling to confirm when you will be back to work on them. In response to the other part of your assertion, no, even with your help, I do not believe that your travelling companion will be the next governor of California.”
Viviana let the silence stand for a moment. Struggling with her need to reach out to him but frightened by his coolness, Viviana allowed herself to remember Sonia’s cryptic words. She knew the angry woman was threatened by her, but her knowing taunt regarding Jax had hit Viviana in a vulnerable place. While she rarely admitted it, she acknowledged her dormant but ever-present fear that there was no way her remarkable lover would always love her. Not with the way that she continued to challenge him. Remembering his response to her assertion that she was going to go on a three-day trip with Enrique, a shiver of fear struck her. She’d assumed he would be furious and refuse to let her go. The last thing she’d expected was his cool acceptance. Particularly when he’d said, “Good luck, Viviana. And good-bye.”
Knowing that she was purposefully trying to rile him, Viviana was still surprised with her next words. “As for when I’m coming back, Jax, I expect to be at the precinct midday on Thursday. However, you should know that I’ve decided I’m going back to my condominium.” She hesitated, then continued to say aloud some of the things she realized she’d been thinking. “I think we need time apart, Jax. Which is . . . why I plan to move back to my place.”
After a silence that lasted a full thirty seconds, his cool response shot fear into her churning gut. “I see. So once again, Viviana, may I conclude that you have made an important decision regarding our relationship without discussing it with me?”
Too conflicted by her need to connect with him while knowing that she needed to stay firm to her unexpected announcement, she was silent. Much later, as she fought through a sleepless night, she acknowledged that her inability to answer his question confirmed that her startling declaration was not up for discussion. As did his crisp sign-off followed by the sharp click of the phone, confirming that he’d ended the call.
Tossing and turning in her bed, wondering if another glass of wine from the mini-bar would help her grab as least an hour or so of sleep, she heard her phone ping. Reaching for it, the abbreviated text message shot a jangle of conflicting emotions winging over her. Seeing his curt warning of “That’s two, Viviana,” it wasn’t surprising that the challenging sparks sizzling between her thighs were her most potent reaction.
****
Viviana was pleasantly surprised when Nicolas announced at breakfast they were unexpectedly cancelling the final stops on their whirlwind tour and heading back to San Jose. Apparently, Enrique had received an invitation to a high-level event that promised to include an A-list of potential donors. After Nicolas had confirmed that there would indeed be places for them at the head table, Viviana gave in to her relief that their tour was almost over. She had cut a wide berth around Sonia throughout the morning, determined not to allow the hateful woman to bother her. Regardless, she had decided that while she would continue to support the campaign, this was the last time she would appear onstage with Enrique. Determining she would wait until she was back at work to make that announcement, she did her best to play an active role at each of their morning stops.
As they were packing up at the hotel and preparing to board the bus back to San Jose, Viviana went to the conference room to confirm the details for the evening event. Knocking first, she entered the room. Surprised to see a group of men surrounding Enrique, involved in what appeared to be an intense conversation, she hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry, Enrique. I wasn’t aware that you were in a meeting.”
Enrique quickly responded. “That’s quite all right, Sergeant Moreau. I’ll be finished shortly. I’ll catch up with you then.”
Surprised at his dismissal, Viviana nodded pleasantly. “Of course, I just need the details for tonight. Let me know when you can talk.”
Backing out of the room and closing the door behind her, Viviana frowned at Enrique’s unexpected response. It was clear that he and Nicolas were in the middle of an important conversation. It was also clear that she was not invited to participate. Indeed, both Enrique and Nicolas seemed upset that she had interrupted them. Remembering the tight-knit circle of what she now realized were all Latino men, she noted that at least a couple of them were familiar. Given that up to this point, she had been included in all of the strategic campaign discussions, her interest was piqued. She could only assume that they’d received unsettling news. She determined that when the men left, she would ask Enrique or, better yet, Nicolas who the men were and how she could help.
****
Breathing a hard sigh of relief, Viviana dashed into her condominium, truly thrilled that she was home. Realizing how tense she had been throughout the day, it wasn’t surprising that she was glad to be home. Given that she’d had zero sleep the night before, coupled with her ugly conversation with Sonia and then the strange meeting with the Latino men that she’d been excluded from, no wonder her condominium was welcoming. She shoved at the thought that if it weren’t for her surprising declaration that they needed more time apart, she would be arriving at Jax’s place. At one level of her being, she knew that wasn’t possible, but she couldn’t deny the wash of emotion flooding her at the thought of seeing him. She slammed her eyes closed, refusing to admit what she would give if somehow their upset was in the past and she could soon be in the arms of the most powerful man she’d ever known.
****
Entering the ballroom at the Mira Val Hotel, Viviana’s gaze traversed the crowded ballroom like a heat-seeking missile and landed on Jax. Not surprisingly, he was holding court in the front of the room, surrounded by a collection of rapt men and women. Tugging at her abbreviated dress, Viviana acknowledged she’d chosen to wear her infamous gold lamé dress because she knew Jax would be at the event. With a shiver of apprehension, she admitted that she wanted to taunt him. It was the dress she’d worn when they had first met. He’d also declared the risqué garment was one of the reasons he fell in love with her. That she chose to wear it while being accompanied by Enrique was a blatant declaration that she intended to be as dismissive of Jax as he had been of her.
Even so, she was startled when Enrique waved to her from across the ballroom, then strode toward her. Lightly bussing her cheek, he reached for her arm, anchoring her next to him. Leading her toward what appeared to be the head table, he murmured, “This is going to be an interesting evening, Viviana. It seems we aren’t the only important guests here tonight.” Tightening his grip on her elbow, he added, “Apparently, we are being joined by your police chief and his companion who, if I’m not mistaken, is Carrie Reynolds, the daughter of Philip Reynolds, the CEO of Infosystems Inc.—and she’s an heiress.”
Too shocked to respond, Viviana noted that in addition to Greg Bannon, Sonia, Nicolas, and two older couples she didn’t know, Jax was standing beside a stunning young woman. Viviana didn’t need Sonia’s triumphant smile flashing with ill-concealed animus to confirm Enrique’s assertion that the slender beauty clasping Jax’s arm was indeed his companion for the evening. Sucking in as deep a breath of air as her constricted lungs would allow, Viviana nodded to the distinguished, gray-haired
man who introduced himself as Phillip Reynolds.
“I’m honored to meet you, Sergeant Moreau. This is my wife, Genevieve, and my daughter Carrie.” Nodding to the other couple, he said, “And this is Carter and Maisy Dalton. Carter is my chief financial advisor. And, of course, you know Commander Bannon and Chief Hughes, who I understand is your boss.” He laughed pleasantly and added, “Although, from everything I’ve heard about you, madam, you are a challenging woman to corral.”
Viviana managed to join the appreciative laughter at Reynolds’s on-target assertion as Enrique pulled out her chair and seated her between himself and Nicolas. She shouldn’t have been surprised when Enrique boldly seconded the genteel man’s observation.
“For the last three days, sir, I have had the honor of Sergeant Moreau’s presence on my campaign. Not only is Sergeant Moreau a stunning woman, but she is as knowledgeable about the critical issues we face as anyone I’ve met. Given her brains and her beauty, I can testify that she has earned the moniker the press gave her. She truly is an Enchantress.”
Leaning back in his chair, Jax eyed the grinning man seated next to Viviana. He paused for a moment, then asserted blandly, “In addition, she is a damned good cop.” Shooting Enrique a narrowed gaze, he added, “Speaking of your evolving platform, how is the campaign going, Counselor?” Before Vega could answer, Jax said with an ironic shrug, “If nothing else, it appears you’ve captured the interest of the press. Not to take away from your star power, but I’m sure you’re aware that wherever Sergeant Moreau goes, the media follows.”