The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(145)

"Yes," Lauren said anxiously, taking one of the cups from his hand. He set the other mug down in front of me.

"Thanks," I said with a half smile before immediately turning back to Lauren. "You were saying..."

She took a deep breath and blew on the surface of her tea, causing small ripples to form and dissipate over the short distance to the other side of the mug. "Yes. Well, the truth is, I asked you here because I'm interested in your job."

I shot her a confused look. "Well, that much was obvious with all the questions. But why are you so interested in my... job?"

In all honesty, I could certainly see how this job would be fairly interesting to people on the outside. It was different, a bit scandalous. I could see how the curiosity factor would set in upon mentioning it. But the fact was, I was so very over it at this point that I could hardly relate to her level of fascination.

"Well," Lauren continued, "I'm interested in it because . . ." She bit her lip. I could tell whatever she was about to say was difficult.

I started to take a sip of my chai latté. I could feel the heat of the tea underneath my lips, so I cautiously tried to regulate the amount entering my mouth.

"Because I want to do what you do," she finished.

So much for a small sip. It was like a floodgate had opened and half of the mug of hot chai flowed into my mouth, scorching my tongue and the back of my throat. I coughed violently. "You what?" I managed to get out as I rubbed my charred tongue against the roof of my mouth.

"I want to do exactly what you do. You know, test people for infidelity."

I stared at her in disbelief, and then spun my head around the coffeehouse. Was this a joke? Was I being set up by Zo? or Sophie, or somebody?

When my eyes returned to hers I could see absolute sincerity in her face. She was 100 percent serious, and was now waiting for my response. My advice.

I leaned forward. "You want to be a fidelity inspector?" I confirmed in a low whisper.

She nodded her head firmly.

"Why?" I asked, leaving my mouth disturbingly agape as if I were asking someone why they would want to be dunked under water three times and only brought up twice.

She looked down at the table and rubbed her temples. At that moment, for the first time since I had walked through that door, I saw the same pain on her face as I had seen a month ago in her father's office.

She swallowed hard and looked up again. "Because I want to devote the rest of my life to making sure the cheating scum of this world are brought to justice."

I continued to massage my burned tongue against the inside of my cheek. I opened my mouth warily and said, "Lauren, I think you're overreacting here. I understand that you're feeling hurt and betrayed. But I doubt you're thinking rationally right now. You should probably let this whole event settle and clear your head before you start thinking of ways to get revenge on the male species."

She shook her head stubbornly. "No, I am thinking rationally. For the first time in my life. Ashlyn—" She stopped abruptly. "Wait, that's not your real name, is it?"

I folded my arms across my chest. "No," I said with a definitiveness that implied she would not be learning my real name any time soon.

She nodded her understanding, not pressing the issue. "Well, whoever you are, you opened my eyes. You showed me something that probably would have taken me years to see on my own...if I even ended up seeing it at all. And that's an amazing gift to give someone. I want to give it back to as many people as I can."

I considered her argument. It was a good one. After all, it was the same one I used to use. "Well," I began admitting, "the truth is most people don't exactly see it the way you do...at least not right away. I mean, gratitude is hard to come by in this job. It's an assumption you have to make on your own. So if you're looking for instant gratification, this isn't the place to find it."

I paused. "Plus, it's a very difficult thing to go through with."

"I realize that," Lauren said. "But I can do it. I know I can. I mean, if I can fix outsourced programming code for a customized app without ever learning the business process, I can certainly handle this."

I shot her a puzzled look.

She continued. "Sometimes at night, when I'm lying alone in my bed, I think about how if it weren't for you I would have married that guy. And God knows how many times he would have done exactly what he did. While I stood by, faithful, loyal, and completely naive. I can't not do this."

She looked at me with a determination that I hadn't seen in anyone in a long time. A determination I used to see in myself. Every time I looked in the mirror. Give people the gift my mother never got.

It was what had kept me going every day. What had gotten me out of bed every morning.

And then suddenly, as I listened to her familiar words and sympathetic quest for purpose, I came face-to-face with a cold, hard realization.

What was going to get me out of bed now?

What would be my purpose...now?

"The truth is," I began, "I retired a week ago."

Her ears perked up. "You did? Why?"

I should have told her everything. All the ugly aspects of this business: the lies you have to maintain, the secrets you have to keep, the double life you have to lead, and even the revenge that some people will seek. Because believe it or not, not everyone thinks of this as a service to humanity. A lot of people – people like Raymond Jacobs – think of it as grounds for retribution.