How a Quiet Navy Admiral Exposed Her Insulting Familys Hidden Motives
“Commander Nathan Reed,” I said. “And notify JAG that I want a representative present.”
“Understood, Ma’am. I’ll issue the summons immediately.”
I hung up the phone.
The rain continued to lash against my office window.
I leaned back in my leather chair and looked at the brass nameplate on my desk: Rear Admiral Evelyn Hart.
My family believed I was a low-level clerk who scheduled meetings for junior officers.
At dinner two nights ago, my father had asked me if I could help Nathan secure a promotion by introducing him to some of the secretaries in my building.
Caroline had laughed and told Nathan not to bother, because I probably didn’t even have access to the executive elevator.
I pulled open my desk drawer and took out my service dress blue jacket.
I brushed a speck of dust off the gold lace on the sleeves.
The single silver star on each shoulder board caught the dim light of the desk lamp.
I hung the jacket on the wooden hanger behind my door.
Then I shut down my computer, locked the classified safe, and left the office.