Page 5 of A Man of Prestige

I crawl into my air-conditioned bed, pulling up the cotton sheets with cooling technology. I hate to be hot. If I had it my way, I’d live upon a snow-capped mountain. Conner and Sebastian prefer tropical islands, which are fine so long as there is cool air inside and I can swim in the water.

I stare up at the skylight in the ceiling. I can see several constellations in the sky. I fall asleep to memories of lying on a blanket on the National Mall next to Ella, pointing out stars and planets. I miss that. I miss us. But I’ll be damned if I ever admit that. The day Ella left, she broke me. And if she knows what’s good, she’ll do as she said tonight and get me this information and then retreat back out of my life forever.

Chapter4

Ella

I feelhis hands coming around me. He caresses my hip and slowly glides his fingers down my front. I pretend to be asleep. It’s our game. He knows I’m awake. He takes his time tracing the inside of my thigh before sliding his hand between my legs. His finger skirts the edge of my panties, teasing me. I don’t move. I want to see what he does next. A single finger pushes beneath the fabric and makes its way down. I’m already wet for him. He glides it back and forth before sinking it inside me. I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips as he strokes me, bringing me to the edge fast.

“That’s right, my star, come for me,” he whispers in my ear as his thumb strokes my clit. And I come hard, feeling my wetness drip down his finger.

My eyes fly open, and I realize I was dreaming…about Aiden. What the hell? I look at the clock and see that I’ve slept for a solid ten hours. I guess I needed that.

I roll out of my bed and head immediately to make coffee. I always need the nectar of adult life before I can function in the mornings. I try to push my dream aside, but as I take off my clothes to shower, I notice that my underwear bears the proof of my arousal. I curse at myself and quickly rinse away the evidence that I was thinking of him.

I want to hate him. I need to hate him. But seeing him last night, confirmed that I don’t, and that makes me hate myself. I angrily wash my hair and face and finish my shower.

Stepping out, I swipe my hand over the mirror, clearing it from condensation so I can see myself properly.

I look…sad. I am sad. I wanted to tell him so badly last night. Hell, I’ve wanted to tell him every night since the night it happened. Guilt pulses through my veins once again. I need to go for a run and clear my head.

I get on my running gear and head out to the trail along the river. I run until I’m winded and out of breath. I run past the grave of the unknown soldier, past the hillsides of graves where soldiers who weren’t recovered are memorialized. I turn around and begin making my way back home. I pass families. I pass a mother with a baby in a stroller. I pass a few couples walking dogs. Everyone seems happy, content with life. And then there’s me.

How did I end up here? I contemplate it as I slow my pace, starting my cooldown as I approach Crystal City.

My parents wanted a strong son. Instead, they got me, and my little sister. My poor father poured all his dreams for a son into me. Karate. Soccer. Teaching me everything he thought I should know. He said he wanted to raise strong girls that would know how to protect themselves. And that he did. My younger sister, Elena, is in grad school. She’s an athlete and wants to study law after she finishes grad school.

During my last deployment, the guys in my unit would always say that I had a chip on my shoulder. But it wasn’t from my family. They had no idea what I’d been through before I deployed.

I reach my apartment building and hurry back upstairs. I make breakfast, skim through some medical journals online, and then rinse off again before heading back to my lab. I stare at the vial and decide to put it inside my water bottle. I sort it out and make my way to my work.

The security guards wave me through, and I head down into the bowels of the Pentagon, past more security. At least I know these guards.

“Hey, guys,” I say to them as I flash them my best smile. I hate using the girly card, but sometimes, I find that it’s my best weapon.

“Hi, Commander Garcia,” says the older man as he looks through my things before handing them back to me. “I thought you had off today?”

I shrug. “Sort of. I just wanted to get a head start on some work so it’s ready to go for me tomorrow. I won’t be too long today.”

“You should be fast. The weather is supposed to be great today,” he adds as I head down the long hallway. I smile and nod, pausing as he searches my things. I try to keep my breathing steady as he looks through my bag. I’m still nervous as I walk away from the security checkpoint. I don’t even know how I would begin to explain the vial if they found it.

When I go through the lab security doors, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m alone. Sometimes I find a technician in here on the weekend, trying to catch up on work. I sort out my things and then, careful to keep security cameras away from my view, I take some of the liquid from the vial into a test tube so I can begin to run tests on it.

“What are you?” I ask it as I hold up the test tube and stare at the clear substance.

I admit that I’m a little nerding out over the idea of getting to study a drug that apparently hasn’t seen the light of day outside of a Geneva lab, except for some vials of it that have landed here in the nation’s capital.

I get everything set up and begin to work. I like the silence of the lab. I like to hear the clink of the glass and metal and nothing else. I find the sterile environment soothing. It’s so quiet down here. Only the hum of machines fills the silence. Once my high-tech equipment is doing its job, I walk into my personal office and sit down.

I pull up information on the project I’m currently working on. The labs have come back, and I’m pleasantly surprised by the results. Admiral Blake will be pleased. I go to make my notes and summarize the results, but as I pull up some studies that I was going to read through to possibly add to the summary, I come across a name that I know.

I click on the person’s bio and my heart stops. Adam Blake. No, it can’t be. Adam Blake, the CEO of Halfagher. I search his bio online and indeed find that he’s Admiral Blake’s brother. I scan back over to the study. It’s old. Twenty years old. It’s looking at some compounds that Blake and his team were studying in terms of memory. It found a maximum-dose use of the compound could work on memory but still allow for a physical response while sedated.

I pull up another article, this one is five years later and looking at a drug classification on anesthesia medicines that alter memory. It’s an odd area of study considering the company is more well-known for its microneedle device. It’s also an odd background to have for an executive. He apparently has both business and pre-med undergraduate degrees.

My initial reaction is to wonder if Adam Blake might be getting unfair treatment because of his brother’s position. Halfagher is one of the top bids to help create the new drug that the admiral has been working toward for over a decade. These studies make me wonder if they haven’t been working toward something for a lot longer than that.

What the hell is going on here? My buzzer goes off and I head back into the lab to run the next set of tests. I spend the next six hours poring over articles and studies from Halfagher and Adam Blake. Did Admiral Blake become interested in this sedative idea because of his brother or the other way around? What came first, the chicken or the egg?

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