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“What do you mean you’re tendering your resignation?” I have trouble getting out the words. “Did you and Zé have a falling-out?”
She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t leave a job because my boyfriend and I broke up.”
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Not playing twenty questions, Tamar. What the fuck is going on?”
She studies me without uttering a word. I hate not being in control. Hate it. Something’s clearly wrong, but I can’t fix it until I know what the problem is.
“Talk to me, Tamar.”
“I don’t think I can provide details without sounding insubordinate.”
“This is a serious matter, and I’m not standing on protocol, and neither should you. I want to know why you’re resigning. Speak freely.”
“You’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“I got that part. Just say it.”
She nods, meeting my eyes. “Protecting you is an impossible task. I always suspected that to be the case, but when you told me to stay in the waiting room at Bancroft’s office, I knew for certain, and nothing that’s happened since we arrived in Quimper has changed my mind.”
Does she think I disrespected her in some way? That I don’t think she’s a capable soldier? “Do you believe I made those decisions—or any others—because you’re a woman?”
“No,” she replies without hesitating. “I wouldn’t like it if that were the case, but it’s something I could wrap my head around. You’re a leader who wants to protect himself. I don’t understand that.”
She pauses, as though waiting for me to respond, but I want to hear everything she has to say first.
“Go on,” I urge. “Lay out all the cards.”
“In my former agency, we protected leaders of all levels, including the president. We did it proudly. It was a great honor. You’re not only a leader, but you’re poised to step into a greater role, where you’ll garner more enemies and be at greater risk for assassination. I don’t believe you’re going to change. I don’t think you want to change,” she adds softly.
I feel like I’m talking to her boyfriend. It’s fucking annoying. “Zé’s been filling your head with nonsense.”
“I haven’t said a single word today that I haven’t experienced for myself. Besides, Zé would never speak a bad word about you—not even to me. But he’s concerned. I’m sure of it. If something happens to you under his watch, he’ll never forgive himself. The entire time we were in Quimper, I worried that I’d be the person to deliver the news of your death and break his heart. I can’t do my best work under those conditions.”
Zé would survive. He’d have a few choice words for me, but he’d survive. “Zé’s tougher than you think.”
“I know he’s tough. That’s not the point. He loves you like a brother.”
“I’m not a fool, and I understand the ramifications of my behavior. Never more than when you just laid them on the table.”
The room is heavy. I know that I put my people in a difficult position when I insist on being responsible for my own protection, but it’s a matter of survival for me—mental survival. I carry many mementos from a horrific childhood, and I cope the best way I know.
“I don’t like to dig too deep into my motivations, nor do I care to share them with others. But you leave me no choice.” I pour myself a glass of water and take a drink. “Zé and I have a long history. He’s been trying to protect me for most of our lives. I spent the first decade of my life with an abusive monster. I made a promise many years ago that I would never be helpless again. I don’t depend on others for my safety. And I don’t see that changing.”
She nods. “Marlena would be perfect to work with Ms. Clarke on the project you mentioned. And I think Tony is ready to be in charge of IT.”
“You misunderstand me. I’m not accepting your damn resignation. You’re too important to the team.”
I get up and push in my chair before going to the door. “Do whatever you have to do to make peace with the fact that I’m an asshole.” I stop in the doorway, a hand on the jamb. “For my part, I’ll be more mindful of the security decisions I make for myself. Your concerns were duly noted. But don’t expect perfection. It’s never going to happen.”
I leave before she can say another thing about resigning, because that is not happening.
On my way to the interior cabin, I stop in the galley and pour a bourbon. Lexie and I need to talk. Not about her lying and the stunt with the traffickers, but about what happened before I left for the US. The rest can wait.
I throw back the expensive bourbon like it’s swill. The burn in my throat is satisfying, but nowhere near as satisfying as being around Lexie. It’s probably going to require an apology to make things right. And because I’m a pussy, I grab a bottle of water and head back to grovel.
