I was in Sergeant Major’s office at the other end of the building and I heard it. We all heard it. Enlisted, officers, students. The next day he resigned his commission.”
The light dawned. “It was never about us, was it? We were a stepping-stone to Rogan.”
“I suspect so. I don’t know if he was motivated by money or if it was the prestige, but Abarca wanted into Rogan’s inner circle. He had sent his résumé to us three times. I imagine he thought working with you would be the doorway to Rogan’s confidence.”
“Except we hired him specifically to keep our independence from Rogan.” It all made sense now. “So, when Mom told him he would be let go for doing a bad job and that the people he wanted to impress would be replacing him, he couldn’t handle it.”
“Now you understand.” Heart fixed me with his direct stare. I felt a strong urge to stand straight and very still. “A unit is only as good as its leader. That’s why a good leader holds herself to the highest standard. It’s not about being liked or being fair. It’s about deciding what your goal is and doing what is necessary to achieve it. Especially when it’s difficult. What happened to Abarca wasn’t the result of your actions. He made his choices. Don’t let it cripple you. You still have a job to do.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Don’t mention it. We will build a new security team around a strong leader. I have someone in mind. With your permission, I’ll extend an invitation to interview to her and her wife. She’s a talented soldier, but she comes with some baggage.”
“Everyone comes with baggage,” I told him. “Please invite her to interview.”
“Good,” Heart said, and smiled.
I was in the kitchen, chopping up a mango, when Alessandro sauntered in and parked himself by the kitchen island. He wore a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and a conservative black tie. His jaw was clean-shaven, his hair tamed. His shoes cost more than the rest of his outfit combined. A long cashmere scarf, snow white and unadorned, hung from his neck, thrown up there almost as an afterthought. A Prime; successful, elegant, confident. Someone to be taken seriously. He would give Augustine a run for his money.
At the kitchen table Arabella raised her eyebrows and elbowed Runa. Prime Etterson raised her head from her laptop and did a double take.
I kept chopping. “Is that your I’m-going-to-see-Linus-Duncan outfit?”
He took a long look at me, inspecting my award-winning ensemble of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt covered by a pink apron with a frilly ruffle. “Is that yours?”
I rolled my eyes, slid the chopped-up mango into a plastic bowl already containing minced onion, garlic, cumin, ginger and other spices, and picked up plastic gloves.
Alessandro eyed the assortment of cooking ingredients in front of me, taking in honey, apple cider vinegar, and small orange peppers. “What are you doing?”
“I’m waiting until 8:00 a.m. before I call him.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because he’s Linus Duncan. I have no idea when he gets up.” I put the gloves on and began slicing the peppers. “Maybe he does yoga in the morning, maybe he swims, maybe he sleeps in. Eight o’clock seems like a reasonable time to call out of the blue demanding that he drops everything and sees us. Seven forty-five, not as much.”
“I understand that. I’m asking why you’re chopping little bell peppers first thing in the morning.”
Because my cousins pitched a fit when we ran out of their favorite taco sauce.
“She cooks when she’s nervous,” Arabella volunteered.
I stopped chopping and looked at her. My sister giggled. “You look just like Mom.”
“Are you afraid of Linus Duncan?” Alessandro frowned.
“No. I told you, he’s a family friend.” Of course I was afraid of Linus. Who wouldn’t be?
Alessandro leaned forward, invading my space, and hit me with a seductive smile. “So why are you nervous?”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Do I make you nervous?” Alessandro purred.
My sister choked on her coffee.
“No.”
Leon walked into the kitchen, saw Alessandro, growled “For fuck’s sake!” and walked out.
Alessandro laughed, reached over, and stole a piece of one of the little orange peppers.
Arabella’s eyes got big. Runa opened her mouth and Arabella clamped her hand over it.
I gave Alessandro a sweet smile. “That’s not yours.”
Take the bait. You know you want to.
“Give me back my pepper. I mean it, Alessandro. You can’t have it.”
Three, two, one . . .
Alessandro winked at me and popped the pepper into his mouth. His