Chapter 10

2:09 p.m. Passion Ministry

After waiting for the ruckus to die down, Virginia cracked the door. She needed a bolt-hole. Fast. Closed doors lined the hallway. She strode, painfully aware of her noisy flip flops. One by one, she turned knobs. All locked. Sweat drizzled down her underarms. Uh oh…what if my gear fries?

Something nearby clicked. She glanced for a hideaway. Nothing. Flattened against the wall. Held her breath.

A door ten feet away swung open. She froze.

A tall, pale young man appeared. Marched away.

Gingerly, she tiptoed over. Jabbed in a toe, catching the door. Quickly squirmed inside.
Boxes lined the walls of the large room. In the center sat a desk, with a huge monitor, paper and writing instruments. A leather chair was pushed to one side.

She searched for a hiding spot. Nothing obvious. Moved to the desk. Tried the drawers. Locked.

Voices.

Virginia shoved the chair. Dove beneath the desk. Wrestling to pull up her blouse, she ripped free the equipment. Fixed everything, as best she could with the now damp and not-so-sticky tape, to the underside of the desk.

The voices grew louder.

Scrambling free, Virginia fumbled with her blouse as a key clicked in the lock. Here goes nothing. She grabbed the knob. Yanked.

The same young man she had just seen leaving crashed into her.

“What the—!”

Arms open, she let his mass hurl them down. Pinched his bum as they fell.

“Hey!” He jerked as though shot. Twisted away.

She grunted under his weight and rearranged her glasses. Glanced up at the open door. Got the name she needed.

Virginia embraced the offensive. As always. Ever since she was sixteen, she had known she possessed the Look. Initially, the objectification was mortifying but she began to see the light. The light of imbecility and lust gleaming in the eyes of the opposite sex.

Soon she had no qualms about using and abusing it to her advantage. After all, power was where it was at. You seized it anyway you could. Shrewd enough play the cards in her hand, Virginia excelled at the game between the sexes.

Towering over the now flush-faced man so that he could see up her skirt, she slowly tucked in her blouse. “Had many a guy fall for me, but none so literally.”

“Who’re—?”

“You must be Brendan.” His dark eyes widened in acknowledgment. She offered him a hand up plus a peek of cleavage. Not bad: hooded eyes, pencil-thin beard and Roman nose. She could do without the lousy accent, thinning hair and gold chain. “I’m Gina. A security guard sent me to find you.”

“Get your effin’ hands off me.” Brendan pushed her aside. “What the frigg’re you doing in my office?”

Virginia’s hand cracked across his cheek. He gaped. Uh-oh, she thought.

He clenched and unclenched his hands, silver rings winking.

“Don’t you ever touch me like that again,” she spat.

Brendan gave her a leisurely once-over. She relaxed, knowing the Look was taking control. Finally, he chuckled.

“You—” He stammered between guffaws. “—you pinched my frigging arse!” Stuck out his hand. “Brendan Shewchuck, Gina. I’m all yours.”

She grinned. “I know.”