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“Of course I’lllook.” I was careful not to promise more.

“Good.” She gave me a peck on the cheek. “See that you do. Just remember, if you decide on a summer or fall wedding, you’ve given yourself less than a year to prepare. But if you have Amanda McCormick working for you, she’ll have everything organized in no time at all. That really was a stroke of brilliance to ask the president for her number.”

I hadn’t asked, but no sense in pointing that out now. My mom was apparently thrilled with the possibility of having Amanda as my wedding planner. Even Basia seemed kind of excited about it. “Well, thanks for coming over, Mom.”

She gave me a hug before leaving. Basia joined me in the foyer and began putting on her coat, as well.

“A matter of national security?” she said. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Do you have a better idea?” I asked. “Because I’m all about collecting excuses to add to a spreadsheet for memorization and future use.”

Basia laughed and then shook her head. “Look, Lexi, I know you don’t want a big wedding, but you have to havesomething. I guarantee you Amanda McCormick will get you what you want and need. Even if it’s small, she’ll do it your way.”

“But I don’tknowwhat my way is,” I protested. “Slash doesn’t either.”

“Then let her help you get your head in the right place. That alone would be worth it. Why don’t you consider giving her a call?”

I didn’t agree or disagree with her, but the thought of calling a wedding planner filled me with about as much dread as getting fitted for a dress. I’d been stressed to my limit planning a bachelorette party for Basia, and that had landed us all at the police station, so I had no idea how I was going to pull off my own wedding.

Once Basia left, I returned to the kitchen thinking about what she had said. I looked on the counter for Amanda’s card, but I couldn’t find it. I checked my sweater, the floor, the trash, and for good measure, the refrigerator.

Nothing.

That meant only one thing. Someone else had Amanda McCormick’s business card.

My bet was on my mother.

Chapter Three

Slash

It had taken him under a minute to locate the tampons at the Quick Mart, but he hadn’t expected the sheer product volume and variety. Boxes of all sizes in blue, red, pink and green. A half dozen labels and different companies. And this was a Quick Mart. He shuddered to think of the options that might be present in a supermarket or retail store.

He shifted the gallon of milk to his other hand and thought back on their conversation. Had Lexi mentioned a specific company or box color? No, she’d said only regular, as in size. Was company or brand important? He tried to remember the color of the box that usually resided under their sink. Blue. No, it was pink.

Damn, he had no idea.

He bent down, taking a closer look at the boxes. Super plus, overnight, slim, pearl, plastic, cardboard applicator...what the hell? How was he supposed to make a decision based on one variable—regular size? Speaking of which, where was the box—anybox—that said regular?

He heard a snort behind him. The cashier, a skinny kid with stringy hair, tattoos and a cigarette dangling from his mouth, smirked at him. They were the only two people in the store at the moment. If the kid made some snarky comment when he brought the tampons to the register, he’d have to hurt him, and that wouldn’t look good for a director at the NSA.

He ignored the kid, finally finding a box that said regular size. He had no idea if these were the right brand, but hopefully they’d do. He spent an additional four seconds trying to decide whether to buy a box of twenty-four or forty-eight. He decided on forty-eight as a precaution, because there was no way in hell he wanted to do this again anytime soon. Grabbing the box, he tucked it under his arm and headed to the cashier.

He’d just put everything on the counter when the bell on the door tinkled. He glanced over his shoulder just as a man with a ski mask and gun entered the store.

Gwen Sinclair

It was hard to act like a normal scientist when she felt like she was going to burst with excitement. But she gave it her best effort. Smiling a little, she pulled her cell out of her lab coat and quickly tapped out a text. When she was finished, she sat at an empty table in the company café and took a deep breath.

Life was amazing. She had the best boyfriend in the world, a supportive family, including a cool little sister, a few really good friends, and a job she absolutely loved. Things didn’t get much better than that...except they just had, and she could barely contain herself.

Less than a minute later, her significant other, Elvis Zimmerman, slipped into the chair across from her. His glasses were a bit crooked on his nose and his thick dark hair was mussed, like he’d been running his fingers through it, which he sometimes did when he was deep in thought. Her heart did a little pitter-patter when he focused his gaze on her.

“So, what’s so urgent you had to see me now?” Elvis asked. Curiosity was alight in his intense blue eyes. His insatiable intelligence was one of the things she loved about him. When she leaned forward, he reached across the table and almost took her hand. He stopped himself, most likely remembering they were at work.

“I stopped by your office, but you weren’t there,” she said quietly. “I wanted to tell you right away.”

The interest in his eyes flared brighter. “Is this about the meeting you just had with Director Cutler?”