My heels clicked on the white tile as I made my way to my boss’s office.

For the past month or so, I’d felt like a changed person, and I couldn’t put my finger exactly on what made me feel so empowered.

Okay, maybe I could.

Maybe it was the satisfaction I felt the night I kicked the most gorgeous man I’d ever met out of my room.

And all this after I’d spent the night pretending I was another version of me:

Alexa.

After that experience, something just clicked for me about how I’d been letting people push me around at the office.

Instead of retreating into my shell when confrontation became uncomfortable, like I’d done in the past, instead I channelled my inner alter-ego.

I asked myself, What would Alexa do?

Sure, in some ways it was a silly mental trick I played on myself.

But it worked. I liked being Alexa.

Alexa was powerful.

Alexa was dominant. She took what she wanted.

She was sexual--but on her own terms. She didn’t tolerate the come-ons of imbeciles.

Alexa even had blonde hair--I’d dyed it blonde the Monday after I got back from Tijuana.

“Hello Eva,” one of the young agents said as he passed me in the hallway.

“Gabriel,” I said with a curt nod and a businesslike smirk.

I had to smile a little at silly thoughts going on inside my own head, and it was definitely giving me the competitive advantage at work.

Today, I had even donned my blue and white pinstripe power suit, my go-to wardrobe choice when I wanted to feel like a boss. It made me look intimidating at best and downright bitchy at worst.

I paused for a moment to look at the plaque on the door before I walked inside.

Ned Ronin: DEA Head of Operations.

Like he was some kind of big deal. He’d been in charge of catching Luis Reyes for years, and hadn’t even come as close as getting a video of him.

I opened the door without knocking. Ned sat behind his giant desk, clacking away on his laptop, totally engrossed. I didn’t think he heard or saw me, which was impressive considering how loud my heels were. I walked up and slammed my palms on his desk.

“Ned,” I began. “You’re transferring me to the field. I’m done being your psychological evaluation specialist. I’ve put in my time. And I want the promotion.”

He stopped typing and looked at me with an indifferent gaze.

“We’ve had this conversation before. We still need you in your current role. In the office. Analysis is your strong suit.”

Ned turned back to his computer and started typing again.

“No. Listen to me,” I put my hands on my hips and continued. “I’ve been requesting to work in the field since I first started working here under you—over two years ago. Six years counting all the Ph.D. work I did for the department. You’re underutilizing me and you know it! I’m a psychological profiling expert, I speak fluent Spanish, and I’ve gotten the highest possible score in all of the field tests. Which box don’t I check to get into the field and work some actual drug busts?”

“Eva, I appreciate the enthusiasm,” Ned continued. “But this is really not the time to talk about this. I’m very stressed. I have bigger fish to fry right now. We have a big project we are ramping up for, or haven’t you checked your email this morning?”

My blood boiled at Ned’s classic topic bait-and-switch which somehow tried to make me look bad.

Any other day, I might have just backed down and called it quits. He did look stressed. And it was early on a Monday. But I had asked about things before, and it was never the right time. It was always too early or too late to have this conversation.

I stood tall and channeled my inner Alexa.

Maybe the old Eva would put up with this shit.

But Alexa wouldn’t.

Since Ned continued to ignore me, I simply closed his laptop. He slid his hands out of the laptop just before his fingers got crushed. “Hey!” he protested.

“You’re not hearing me. You know I’m qualified. I’m overqualified. The last guy you put in the field couldn’t even report back to us because he couldn’t pass high school Spanish II. He didn’t even know cómo te llamas. Guess who speaks fluent Spanish, Ned? Me. Yet I’m stuck in the office being your one-trick analyst pony.”

“Oh come on. Don’t be ridiculous,” Ned huffed, opening his laptop back up and pressing the power button. “This isn’t your concern.”

“Actually, it is my concern. It’s bullshit I’m not getting the position I deserve just because I don’t check that one special box everyone around here needs to get a promotion.”

“Oh? And what box would that be? Please, enlighten me, your royal highness,” Ned said, leaning back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He reached to one side of his desk for a cup and took a big gulp of water.

“The special box I don’t check,” I began, “Is that I don’t have a cock and balls,” I belted firmly, looking Ned square in the eye. Ned half coughed, half choked on the liquid in his throat. “You okay there?” I reached across the desk and patted him on the back.

“Wrong pipe,” Ned croaked. After a few moments he recovered. “Eva, please sit, Sweetie Pie. And seriously, don’t be so ornery. Try to smile a little.”

My stomach curled a little bit at hearing Ned say that stupid word. I wasn’t his Sweetie Pie. I wasn’t his anything anymore. And yeah, I felt guilty about how and why we ended. But it was over and he had to realize that.

“Ned, don’t tell me to fucking smile. This is exactly what I’m talking about. It’s inappropriate for you to speak like that now that we’ve—”

“—stopped dating,” Ned interrupted. “I know. Sorry for saying that. It’s just a reflex,” Ned said. “I got used to it after two years. I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

I sighed. Ned might be a bumbling boss, as well as a horrible boyfriend, but he was a nice guy.

A nice guy blocking me from getting what I wanted.

“Well you better get unused to it,” I quipped.

“Right,” Ned folded his arms. “Let’s not get into our past right now. You obviously haven’t read your emails today because you’d know that we’re about to pull the trigger on Operation Reyes Down—operation D for short. In fact, the wheels are already in motion.”

My jaw fell open. “You mean you actually found someone to risk his life undercover who the Reyes family trusts? And who we trust?” I shook my head, thinking about the last man they had sent undercover across the border to infiltrate the Reyes headquarters. It didn’t end well for him. He didn’t make it back and no one ever heard from him again.

“I’m skeptical, Ned. The Reyes family is going to vet the hell out of this guy, whoever we send. Are you sure he has the balls? The connections? And the competence? That’s a tall order.”

Ned rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “We have a guy. We’ve actually had a guy on the books for a full month. This project has been kept top secret though, which is why you didn’t know about it. And his résumé is perfect—well, as perfect as we’re going to get for this job. A little rough around the edges, but—if we can trust him to stay on our side—he’s our guy.”

“Who on earth would the Reyes cousins trust? Word on the street is they don’t even trust each other.”

“The man who we have chosen has earned Reyes’s cousin’s trust first hand—in prison and outside of prison. We cut eighteen years off of our guy’s sentence with a presidential pardon. So he owes us. Big time. And if he doesn’t help us, he’s going right back to prison.”

“A presidential pardon?” I quirked an eyebrow. “What was he in for?”

“Eighteen counts of cocaine possession, a few of manslaughter,” Ned said, handing me a manila folder. “Although his lawyer claimed it was self defense.”

“Was it?” I gripped the file in my hand. It was quite heavy.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Ned said, shaking his head. “Like I said Eva, he’s a loose cannon, but he’s the kind of guy we need if we are actually going to go across the border, find Luis Reyes’ base of operations, and extradite the little shit back to the U.S. But we need to be two-hundred fucking percent sure our guy is going to play ball for the DEA and not revert to the dark side. Hence why I brought you in. And if you would have checked your email today, you’d know.”

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you let me know about this operation earlier? You want me to go into an interview cold? I usually prepare for weeks for these things.”

“I know, but we’ve got to get the ball rolling now. We received some intel today that lead us to believe Luis Reyes might be going into extended hiding very soon, and if we don’t find him soon we could be looking at another decade of searching in vain.”

Beads of sweat rolled down Ned’s forehead. He was understandably stressed. He’d been trying to take down Reyes for almost two years. If this undercover operation didn’t work, Ned was looking at a demotion.

“Eva, I need your expertise here. I need you to interview our undercover guy and find out if he can be trusted. What his motivations are. No one is better at this than you. Do this, and we’ll maybe see about getting you into the field at some point in the future I think.”

I crossed my arms and shifted my weight back onto my heels. I didn’t like all those maybes and probablys. “If I do this, you will find a spot for me in the field.” My intonation didn’t waver. I had given Ned a statement, not asked a question.

“I’ll start looking for a spot for you, yes. Something simple to start out. Now I suggest you take the next few hours to review Corbin Young’s file. He’ll be back here at two p.m. for the interview.”

A brick materialized instantaneously in my gut. I cleared my throat. “Did you just say…Corbin Young?”

Ned nodded. “Yep. Heard of him before? The goddamn son of a bitch went to Mexico on his second night out of jail. Can you believe that? My sources told me he left with some broad, possibly a prostitute. What a fucking regular James Dean.”

The blood ran out of my face. I opened the manila file and saw Corbin Young’s unmistakable mugshot.

“Everything okay?” Ned asked, noticing my silence.

“Okay?” I looked up like a deer in headlights.

He got up from his chair. “With the file, I mean? I just printed that out.”

“Oh yes,” I said with a forced smile. “Looks great. See you at two.”

I stood up quickly and headed for the door. I felt like I might throw up.

“Oh and Eva,” he said before I was outside.

“Yes?”

“If you want to move up, knock this one out of the park. Headquarters is going to be observing your skills through the double mirror.”