Undercover Engagement (Private Pleasures 5)

She stood as well. “I understand. And Dobie, you’re not to blame for the situation I’m in. You did the right thing by telling me.” But oh, it hurt. “You’ve been a true friend, and I can’t thank you enough.” Going on impulse, she hugged him, then eased back. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Earnest eyes found hers. “Start by staying.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Hi, Dad.”

Eden hit the speaker button on her phone to go hands-free so she could finish buttoning her dress.

“You don’t call. You don’t write. What’s a father gotta do to get an update on Officer Brixton?”

Any other day, the exasperation in his voice would have made her smile—Commander Brixton wasn’t used to being back-burnered—but today it made her want to burst into tears.

“I’m sorry.” She picked up her concealer and tried to give a shit about her tear-ravaged face. Looks were important to her cover persona. “Things have gotten kind of…” She meant to say busy, but for some reason, another word came out. “Complicated.”

A beat of silence met that statement. “You sound upset. What’s wrong?”

Emotions she’d managed to tamp down through her report to Buchanan rose up now, making her throat tight. “I just… I can’t…” Her voice refused to steady.

“Is it your wrist, Eden?” Paternal concern came through loud and clear. “It’s not healing. You need surgery. Your mother put together a list of the best hand and wrist specialists the night you told us about the injury. Let me see if I can find it…”

“No. No, Daddy. Nothing like that.” She picked up the phone, went off speaker, and pressed it to her ear. “I’m healing just fine. The doctor’s happy.” She swallowed a sob and walked to the kitchen, staring out the window. Gray clouds slowly encroached on the late-morning sunshine. A storm approached.

“But you’re not happy, baby. I can hear it in your voice.”

Now she blinked fast. She would not show up at the meet site with red eyes and tear tracks down her face. Just no. She’d already behaved unprofessionally enough on her first assignment. “I’ll be all right.” To her horror, she sniffled.

“I know you will.” The confidence in her father’s voice firmed her own resolve. “You’re a Brixton, and you know what they say about us, right?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “It takes a lot to knock a Brick over.”

“Damn right, it does. Nothing’s going to knock us over, especially when we support each other. How can I help?”

“I don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead and noticed the engagement ring on her finger. Habit. She’d showered, dressed, and put the brace on one hand and the ring on the other. “Like I said, it’s complicated, and I don’t really have the time to dig into all of it right now.”

“Okay. We’ll take the fifty-thousand-foot view. Is it work or personal?”

She winced at the question and rubbed her forehead again. “Both, I’m afraid.”

“Are they in conflict?”

“Oh, yeah. Very much so.” Dropping her hand, she stared out the window again. Where was Swain?

“Hmm. All right. That’s a tough one. Let me ask you this. To whom do you owe your primary duty?”

“I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“Well, I swore an oath to my country when I joined the Navy. I made vows to your mother when we married. Occasionally, I find myself in a situation where those two commitments don’t line up smoothly, and when I do, I ask myself, where is my primary obligation?”

That did uncomplicate things a bit, actually. She pulled the fake engagement ring off her finger and dropped it on the kitchen table. “The personal situation doesn’t involve any vows or promises.”

“So, there you go. You put your hand on a Bible and took an oath of duty when you joined the police department. In this situation, you owe your primary obligation to the job.”

“It’s still complicated,” she admitted, biting her lip. “They intersect.” A tear escaped her closed eyes and rolled down her cheek. “The joint op. There are some…issues to resolve. Personal issues.”

“Gotcha. Here’s what you do, Eden. You put those personal issues in a mental lockbox, turn the key, and tuck it away until the op is done. Compartmentalization 101. It can save your ass. You’re in a line of work where you have to focus, because if you don’t, things go south, and maybe somebody gets hurt. Really hurt, not just feelings hurt. You know what I’m saying?”

She sniffed, nodded, and wiped her eyes. “I do.”