Ava Sims reached out and gave his arm a
smug little pat, either oblivious or indifferent to Luc's inner turmoil.
"We start Monday. What time do you
get to work?"
"Sorry?" he said.
"Your work day. When do you
start?"
He shook his head. "Why does it
matter? Don't you just tell me what day and time to show up at your studio?
She rolled her eyes. "We can't just
have three hours worth of face-to-face interviews in cushy chairs. This is an
inside look at America's Hero."
"Hold on now," Luc said, his
irritation escalating to panic. "Three hours? And America's what?"
"America's Hero. It'll be the name
of the series."
Oh
sweet Jesus.
"Now hold the hell on," he
said. "There's not going to be a series.
Just ask me a few questions and be done with it."
Her grin had gone beyond smug to full
out gloating. "It's already approved. It'll be a three-hour special,
divided up over three nights. Pretty standard."
"Standard, my ass," Luc
snapped. "How the hell are you going to stretch four minutes of amateur
video into three hours?"
Ava gave an expectant look at the
captain who cleared his throat nervously before explaining. "Ms. Sims and
her team will be shadowing you for a while, Moretti. A day in the life of a New
York's Finest, and all that."
"Just think, two whole months
together!" she said, with a mockingly bright smile meant to annoy him.
"Won't that be fun? You can show
me all the lives you've saved with those parking tickets."
Luc was too busy grinding his teeth to
reply. Ava dug something out of her purse, slapping it against his chest before
sweeping towards the door in her sexy high heels.
"See you on Monday, Officer."
Luc swallowed against the surge of
panic. He couldn't do this. He wouldn't
do this. It was one thing to be a local hero. Another thing entirely to become
a "household names" as Ava had indicated. The last thing Luc needed
was an even brighter spotlight on him, shining in places that should
remain in the dark forever.
"I don't like it either,"
Brinker said gruffly, displaying a rare perceptiveness. "But I can
tell you right now, there's no point in fighting it. Your father's replacement
made it clear that this was an order. Not a request."
Fuck. Fuck. If he were Anthony, or even Vincent, he would have pushed
back. Would have shoved his principles down Brinker's throat, superior or not.
But Luc wasn't his brothers. Luc wasn't
a hotheaded hotshot. And he had far too much respect for the NYPD
to pull a tantrum.
He would do his duty. He always did his duty. With pride.
Still, he couldn't stop the groan
of dread in anticipation of what lay ahead , Luc glanced down at
the crumpled piece of paper that Ava had thrust at him. There was a coffee
stain in one corner, and something that looked like lipstick smeared across the
front, but there was no mistaking what he was looking at.
It was a three-year-old parking
ticket.
She'd never paid it.