1. Louise #2
Pleasing men in power enough to encourage them to share a crumb of that potency and influence—truly a hellish high-wire act if ever there was one, and here I am—traversing the line, arms outstretched in a silent prayer for balance, the threat of being dashed on the rocks of professional ruin ever lurking below.
While inviting a date—even apple-polisher-McBride—might have offered some form of a safety net, I was unable to produce any civilian companion for the evening and unwilling to invite my former partner, Dennis, for such a purpose.
The old brass will have to deal. I spent almost four hours getting gussied up for this gala—they should be happy with what they get.
“There’s my girl!” I hear Susan Lowry—warm alto and distinctive vocal fry over the murmur of voices and the tasteful jazz band facilities hired to play the function.
I turn to face her and can’t help but snort a nervous laugh.
As it happens, we’re wearing nearly identical outfits; high-necked sheath dresses with modest keyhole openings in the back—mine a shade of dark green to compliment my coppery auburn French twist—Lowry’s a navy blue to flatter her silvery blond chignon.
“What a fabulous dress—you have excellent taste,” she crows happily, her diamond bracelet winking in the romantic lighting. She raises a half empty champagne flute,and reaches for me with her free hand.
“I learned from the best.” I clink my flute against hers, the crystal making a resonant chime, clutching her soft, knurled hand in mine.
“Good thing we didn’t actually buy the same one.
” We exchange air kisses—her sigma perfume; lily of the valley, sweet grass, and tart white grape, washes over me, and I feel the rare comfort that I’ve chased time and time again since I lost my mother.
Lowry darts a glance over either shoulder—her husband and a cluster of high-ranking military and bureau officials chatting spiritedly just behind. Satisfied that we can gossip in relative peace, she threads her arm through mine and guides us toward the outskirts of the bustling party conversation.
“Is Tom here with you tonight? Are you two…?” She purses her lips suggestively, her eyes darting to my hand to look for a telltale diamond engagement ring.
“On the contrary,” I sigh, bringing champagne to my lips and taking a less-than-ladylike swig before finishing my answer to Lowry’s question. “We broke up right before Thanksgiving,” I groan
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” Lowry makes a clucking noise with her tongue and pats my arm affectionately.
“Don’t be.” I toss back the rest of my champagne on a strangled laugh. “He was not only trying to talk me into taking my dreaded repro sabbatical but also doing his best to sell me on changing gears on my career.” I roll my eyes.
I see the light of anger flicker in Lowry’s eyes at my words, her arm unlinking from mine.
“Of course he was.” She shakes her head, reaching for my empty glass—grabbing the bit of crystal and flagging down a nearby waiter in one fluid motion.
“I remember, before I had Jeremy—people wouldn’t stop squawking about when I was going to go on mandatory repro leave.
If Phil had even breathed a word about me not returning to the bureau afterward?
Divorce would have been the least of his worries.
” Susan seethes, placing my empty glass on the passing waiter's tray, exchanging it for another.
Truly, I don’t know what I would have done without Susan Lowry.
Having lost my mother just as I was starting grad school really fucked me up in ways I hadn’t been anticipating.
Without her mentoring, her deep understanding—as another sigma woman at the bureau—I’m not sure I’d be standing here tonight.
“I know it won’t buy me that much more time.” I sigh wearily, allowing myself to lean against Lowry in a sign of affection, trust, and appreciation for her offered support. “But Compton should be off my ass for at least another month or two once I tell him that Tom was a no go.”
Lowry snorts a dry laugh and drapes her arm over my shoulders, drawing me against her in a half-hug.
“Well, he’ll be off your ass another month or two, as long as you can be a bit more discreet about your extracurriculars.” She gives me a roguish smirk and a near imperceptible wink.
I swallow hard, doing my best not to pull away from her on instinct—unwilling to cede any ground, even to her.
“How do you mean?” I attempt to play dumb, even though I know a professional like Lowry can see right through me in a moment like this. Still, my pride won’t allow me to admit the truth of her first accusation.
Lowry drops her chin and gives me an almost plaintive look to let me know how pathetic my attempts at denial are.
“What?” I bristle, squirming under the suddenly crushing weight of her arm; pale and delicate. Even in my ambitious spiked pumps, I’m still a few inches shorter than her—and I feel like a child about to be whisked away to time-out for my fresh mouth.
“Oh, come on Louie!” she hushes in a horse whisper. “You can’t think that I’m getting senile or something, do you? I have seen the notes scattered on the desk at your place near Quantico.” She mouths the word ‘Covartis’ and purses her lips in challenge.
It’s pointless to argue. Even though Walt Compton and the other boys from the bureau have never been to my home—if I’ve gotten sloppy enough for her to take notice of my off-hours investigation into my parents murder so close to her retirement… I really do need to clean up my act.
Of course, my pride and my temper get the best of me—just like always.
“Ok, fine—why not just call Walt Compton over here and bust me right now?” I hiss, sudden heat in my voice, blackest hatred racing through my veins as I feel my best chance at vengeance begin to slip through my fingers.
Lowry, a seasoned professional, gives a single laconic blink.
“Let’s get it over with—I’ve got my badge and duty piece in my car. Just don’t you dare have goddamn McBride bring me the box of shit from my office.” I push past any semblance of gallows humor into outright hostility.
“Put a muzzle on it, Louie.” Lowry snorts dismissively.
“Don’t try to out-bitch thee bitch—I’m simply giving you the warning of one friend—one woman to another.
” Her brows set low and angry. “Everyone’s going to be looking for any excuse to install some man in Compton’s place when he goes.
Right now, I’ve convinced Walter that you’re the only natural choice, but you can bet Donny Krendler and those dipshits in the DOJ are going to be pulling for Kent or even ‘goddamn McBride’,” she warns icily.
“Don’t undo all the fucking work that we’ve both done to get you here. ”
It’s not a threat but the plea of a woman who is desperate to pull me along behind her through the shattered glass ceiling she’s left in her wake—praying that I won’t get shredded to ribbons by the glittering shards that crowd my path.
I feel something inside me go slack—the rippling flames of my rage momentarily quenched by shame.
“I’m sorry, Susan—Chief.” I bow my head contritely.
“Cut that out, too.” She gives me a gentle nudge with her elbow, her expression soft and smiling when I look back up at her.
“I could have waited to tell you more delicately at a more appropriate time, but I just couldn’t leave well enough alone.
Lizard brain just makes me paranoid. I had to say something. ” She shakes her head ruefully.
“No, I understand—it pays to be paranoid. Otherwise, how would we have ever gotten here?” I agree, offering her my arm once more.
“I for one, am happy to have arrived at the age where I can now continue my paranoia at the retirement level. I’m ready for my mountainside cabin with my rocking chair, my quiet, and a shotgun to keep my lap warm.
” Lowry hooks her arm through mine, easing back into our comfortable rapport—the pair of us giving vacant glittering smiles to nearby onlookers as we make our way slowly back toward Susan’s husband and the other officials chatting with him.
“I just won’t be able to protect you from these idiots from the peace of my front porch,” she grits out through her perfect white teeth.
“Understood, loud and clear.” I bend my elbow slightly—giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. “Sorry again for biting your head off back there.”
Lowry’s nostrils flare and she lifts a brow at me.
“I get especially prickly close to my heat, too,” she says knowingly.
“I’m not—I mean, I just haven’t been able to go for my injection since I got back into town late last night. Before the holiday I had thought there was the possibility of—” I blurt out, immediately defensive, but Susan cuts me off with a deliberate laying of her hand over my bare shoulder.
“It was a self report as much as anything else, Louise—take a deep breath. Remember, I’m not out to get you here.
” The skin around her eyes crinkles gently, her crows feet only making her somehow more lovely.
I’m once more undone by the maternal affection of her gaze, my shame like an icy spike rising in my gut.
“I’m sorry, I really am all out of sorts tonight—I keep snapping at you and it’s your goddamn party.” I wince.
“It’s fine, really. I cornered an animal, and she bit me back good.
” Lowry beams at me like a proud mama, her pale eyes wet with something like love.
“It’s one of the ways I know I made the right choice, kid.
You’re going to need to keep that bite sharp and that fire burning to make it to Section Chief.
Always trust that righteous anger, follow what I’ve taught you—it may take a lot to be top dog, but you’ve got something special, Penny.
” She uses my last name without the prefix of ‘agent’, one of the most clear cut signs of respect and peerage you can be given by a superior—allowing the appellation to sink in before finishing her thought: “You’ve got what it takes to be top bitch. ”