to the hospital. That’s serious. Doctors don’t give away a bed unless they have a medical concern.”
Her parents didn’t approve of her career choice and this latest incident highlighted the reasons.
“It was a precaution. I have the best doctors looking after me.” She even had follow-up appointments with specialists, most of which she planned to keep.
“I hope this proves that the fears your mother and I have for your health and safety are not in our heads. When your boss called and told me you’d been injured, it was the most panicked I’ve been in years. Quit that job. Give your resignation immediately. You don’t need the money. You don’t need that job.”
She did need her job. Try as she might, she could not get her parents to understand that. It wasn’t about the money. “I’m sorry you were scared. I was scared, too. But it’s okay. I’m okay.” She wouldn’t delve into the details of the bombing. It was an active investigation and the FBI was controlling what was released to the public.
Her father wasn’t ready to let it go. She gave him another five minutes and then interjected.
“Could we talk about this later? I’m tired.” She wouldn’t tell her father about the man who’d tried to get into her room at the hospital. Lucia could practically hear her father’s teeth grating together. “Please don’t worry about me. I’ll call you later.”
“Are you coming to brunch Sunday?” her father asked gruffly.
“Yes, Dad. I’ll see you then.” She said goodbye and disconnected the phone, setting it on her bedside table. Huntington family brunch was something she tried to attend at least twice a month, once if her schedule was crammed. She loved her family but sometimes they drove her crazy. They had expectations she couldn’t meet and they didn’t understand her life choices. They almost seemed more willing to her accept her sisters’ lack of direction over Lucia’s career.
And yet their approval meant something to her. Not fitting in at work was one thing. But being rejected by her parents was even harder to live with.
Cash appeared in the entryway to Lucia’s room. A strand of hair hung over his forehead. He was wearing a pressed pair of gray pants and a white T-shirt. It looked great on him.
“Did I wake you?” he asked.
“I wasn’t sleeping. Too much to think about,” Lucia said. As her suspect list faded, Cash’s presence came into sharp focus.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked.
She tensed. When she was alone with Cash, their relationship slid from professional to personal too quickly. “You can ask. I may not answer it.”
“What does your father do?”
Red flags went up. “Why are you asking?”
“He was in the ER for two minutes and he had you moved to a private room. And this place is too expensive for an FBI agent’s salary.”
Lucia took a deep breath and sat up, wincing as the pain in her leg renewed. Her father’s identity wasn’t a secret. Everyone on the team knew she came from money. It didn’t hurt for Cash to know it, as well. Since she knew what his father did, inquiring about hers was fair play. “My father is a partner in a successful legal practice. He gave me this condo because he wanted me to have a safe place to live.” She waited for a look of disgust. Some people begrudged that she’d had an easy life, at least financially. From the outside, it seemed like greener pastures. Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn’t.
“I picked up some dinner,” he said.
“That’s it? No follow-up questions?” she asked. Usually people wanted to know more about her family or had some negative comment about her lifestyle, sometimes implying she’d been handed everything she had or that she hadn’t worked for her position in the FBI. Her career was the one thing in life she had earned herself. It was part of why she became so prickly when it wasn’t going well. It made her feel like a failure.
“I get the picture,”
Her parents didn’t approve of her career choice and this latest incident highlighted the reasons.
“It was a precaution. I have the best doctors looking after me.” She even had follow-up appointments with specialists, most of which she planned to keep.
“I hope this proves that the fears your mother and I have for your health and safety are not in our heads. When your boss called and told me you’d been injured, it was the most panicked I’ve been in years. Quit that job. Give your resignation immediately. You don’t need the money. You don’t need that job.”
She did need her job. Try as she might, she could not get her parents to understand that. It wasn’t about the money. “I’m sorry you were scared. I was scared, too. But it’s okay. I’m okay.” She wouldn’t delve into the details of the bombing. It was an active investigation and the FBI was controlling what was released to the public.
Her father wasn’t ready to let it go. She gave him another five minutes and then interjected.
“Could we talk about this later? I’m tired.” She wouldn’t tell her father about the man who’d tried to get into her room at the hospital. Lucia could practically hear her father’s teeth grating together. “Please don’t worry about me. I’ll call you later.”
“Are you coming to brunch Sunday?” her father asked gruffly.
“Yes, Dad. I’ll see you then.” She said goodbye and disconnected the phone, setting it on her bedside table. Huntington family brunch was something she tried to attend at least twice a month, once if her schedule was crammed. She loved her family but sometimes they drove her crazy. They had expectations she couldn’t meet and they didn’t understand her life choices. They almost seemed more willing to her accept her sisters’ lack of direction over Lucia’s career.
And yet their approval meant something to her. Not fitting in at work was one thing. But being rejected by her parents was even harder to live with.
Cash appeared in the entryway to Lucia’s room. A strand of hair hung over his forehead. He was wearing a pressed pair of gray pants and a white T-shirt. It looked great on him.
“Did I wake you?” he asked.
“I wasn’t sleeping. Too much to think about,” Lucia said. As her suspect list faded, Cash’s presence came into sharp focus.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked.
She tensed. When she was alone with Cash, their relationship slid from professional to personal too quickly. “You can ask. I may not answer it.”
“What does your father do?”
Red flags went up. “Why are you asking?”
“He was in the ER for two minutes and he had you moved to a private room. And this place is too expensive for an FBI agent’s salary.”
Lucia took a deep breath and sat up, wincing as the pain in her leg renewed. Her father’s identity wasn’t a secret. Everyone on the team knew she came from money. It didn’t hurt for Cash to know it, as well. Since she knew what his father did, inquiring about hers was fair play. “My father is a partner in a successful legal practice. He gave me this condo because he wanted me to have a safe place to live.” She waited for a look of disgust. Some people begrudged that she’d had an easy life, at least financially. From the outside, it seemed like greener pastures. Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn’t.
“I picked up some dinner,” he said.
“That’s it? No follow-up questions?” she asked. Usually people wanted to know more about her family or had some negative comment about her lifestyle, sometimes implying she’d been handed everything she had or that she hadn’t worked for her position in the FBI. Her career was the one thing in life she had earned herself. It was part of why she became so prickly when it wasn’t going well. It made her feel like a failure.
“I get the picture,”
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