Page 180 of Fallen Rook

“He is of interest to the FBI,” Martin countered, “but not as a suspect. Rather, as an employee.”

“While I appreciate the opportunity, I think my days in the organized crime unit are over,” I said.

Though I loved my job, I loved Enzo more. Keeping both simply wasn’t an option.

“I agree,” Zeke said tonelessly, lacing his fingers together. “And though you haven’t broken any ethical codes, I do think your failure in the operation stems from your loss of passion toward our unit.”

“This is where I come in.” Martin leaned forward, catching my eye. “I understand you’ve shown interest in the counterterrorism department in the past.”

“I had three interviews for a position several years back.” I jerked my chin in a nod. “Eventually, the vacancy was offered to someone from inside the department.”

“Yes, I remember.” Martin snapped his fingers. “You were my first pick, but you know how it is. Politics.”

My mouth stretched into a thin line. Zeke made a gesture with his hand to cut it off. Apparently, I still hadn’t perfected genuine smiles unless Enzo was in the room.

“At any rate,” Martin said, “there’s an opening in counterterrorism, and we’d like to offer you the position. Pay is the same, and the nature of the position is not much different from your previous role.”

A jolt of excitement pierced my chest. I didn’t let it show.

“I’m going to need some formal documentation to everything that was discussed here today,” Christian muttered, standing from his seat. “But I’m not in HR, so I’m leaving the rest to you.” He patted me on the back and left in a cloud of self-importance.

I turned my attention back to Martin.

“We need all hands on deck, Agent Rothwell,” he said. “This means no time off in the foreseeable future. Will this be an issue?”

“It might be,” I said. “I’ll have to clear it with my partner.”

Zeke grinned like a proud father. I fought an eyeroll, like a teenager.

“Whatever days off you’d like to secure will have to go through me before you sign the contract,” Martin said, oblivious to the monumental moment of Zeke witnessing me actually owning up to a relationship and staking claim to it.

“Understood,” I said.

There would no longer be a conflict of interest.

Enzo and I could be in the open. A real couple.

I could take him to restaurants, eat his “lingerie” from his body, and hold his hand in public without a worry.

I could fucking kiss him in my office, like I had wanted to the day we broke up.

I could hold him tight and tell him that nothing, and no one, mattered the way he did.

“So, when can you start?” Martin asked.

“Probably today,” Zeke said, snorting.

“Not today.” I let loose a genuine smile this time. “Today, I have plans.”

“And what are these plans?” Martin cocked his head, confused as to what could be more important than my dream job.

“I’m going home.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Enzo

Out of all the dumb ideas I’d ever had—and as God as my witness, there had been no shortage of those—breaking and entering a federal agent’s apartment was probably at the top of the list.