Page 1 of Bad Influence
CHAPTER 1
Caroline
I never thoughtI'd find enjoyment in being arrested for stabbing a man in the ass. The longer you live, the more you learn about yourself, I guess. For example, this morning, I learned that seeing my fiancé fucking his assistant while she’s bent over his desk throws me into a fit of anger. I also learned that my fiancé’s fuck buddy is not above calling the police and having me arrested for assault.
Assault.
The real assault here was done to my eyeballs because I had to see the back visual of my fiancé coming inside another woman. I flew into a rage and grabbed the nearest sharp object--a letter opener--and moved towards him.
Across from me, the Police Captain shifts in his chair, leaning back to regard me with curious eyes. I swallow thickly.
I may as well start looking for apartments because once this gets back to my parents, they’ll surely kick me out of the house. The funny thing is, I already know they’re going to support Beckett, my fiancé, in this. He’s their precious, future son-in-law, the one who can do no wrong, and I’m just their daughter.
“Ms. Sinclair, is there anything you want to say about what happened in Mr. York’s office?” Captain Crane asks.
He’s a handsome man, mid-fifties, with a discerning gaze and a no-nonsense demeanor. I’m not foolish enough to think I’m sitting in his office because he feels my crime isn’t worth the punishment. If it were up to him, I’d be in a cell right now.
Beckett didn’t want to press charges, so the only thing the police officers did was arrest me and bring me here.
“I think Beckett’s ass did all the talking,” I mumble under my breath.
“What was that?” Captain Crane leans forward.
I swallow. “Can I get a water?”
Captain Crane leans back in his chair, assessing me with his cool gaze. I’m sure being pleasant to a criminal goes against his nature. Heaving a heavy sigh, he bends down and opens the fridge behind his desk, removing a bottle of water which he hands to me. My family’s reputation in San Francisco means something, and that’s another reason I’m sitting here.
It’s also the reason I wish he’d put me in the cell, so I won’t have to see my mother’s disappointed face.
“Ms. Sinclair, you can’t go around stabbing people because of a disagreement,” Captain Crane says. I can tell he’s trying to be gentle, like he’s talking to someone who’s prone to lashing out. The funny thing is, I’ve never done anything reckless before, not even when the opportunity presented itself.
An image flashes in my mind of earnest blue eyes, windswept dark hair.
“Come with me, Caroline.”
I crack open the cap on the water bottle and take a deep pull of the water, drowning the memory.
“The onlydisagreementI see happening is what happened in Beckett’s office before I walked in,” I say. “Since I’m sure you don’t think Beckett did anything wrong.”
Captain Crane sighs again and doesn’t say anything. I’m not surprised he supports Beckett. I’m the inconsequential daughter of an influential family who is soon to marry into another influential family. I look down at my engagement ring. The diamondis tastefully large, sitting on a raised bed, the band studded with smaller diamonds. It’s a bit much for my taste, but it’s a York family heirloom.
“Caroline.”
I blink at my ring, swallowing down the bitterness and tears, and sitting up straighter. Slowly, I turn to face my fiancé, who’s just walked into the Captain's office. His hair is perfectly coiffed, the grey suit he’s wearing perfectly tailored and pressed. It’s a different suit than the one he was wearing this morning when I stabbed him.
I look out the window and notice the shadows have shifted as the day has gone on. I’m not sure what time it is because my watch was taken from me when I was processed. Which I found a bit dramatic since I wasn’t technically arrested. I’ve been here for hours because it’s given Beckett enough time to get discharged from the hospital and come get me.
“Let’s go. We’re going to be late for the gala and you still have to get ready,” Beckett says.
His words grate in my ears, and I swallow the lump in my throat. Because we’re not going to talk about what happened. It’s going to be swept under the rug like so many things are, and I’ll be expected to be the good daughter like always. To fit into the mold already cast for me.
“Captain Crane, since Caroline was never formally arrested, I assume we can leave without any issues,” Beckett continues. His tone suggests he’s not giving the Captain any room to argue.
“Of course, Ms. Sinclair is free to leave,” Captain Crane says.
I stand up, and neither man pays me any attention.
“I appreciate that,” Beckett says. “I hope I’ll see you at the gala tonight with Mrs. Crane.”
