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CHAPTER 2

LIZZY CANFIELD

PR AND ESPIONAGE. SAME THING.

I was exhausted. A twelve-hour plane ride was not my idea of a good time. Add to that the fact the town of Wilcox was not exactly a major hub, and that meant another lengthy car ride. At least that had been arranged ahead of time. All I’d had to do was get off the plane and everything else was handled.

There were a few perks to my job.

The enormous flat that had been rented and furnished on my behalf was one of them.

“You’re sure this is mine?” I asked the doorman who’d helped me up to the eighth floor with my suitcases and handed me the key.

“Absolutely,” he said, giving me a knowing and somewhat fatherly smile. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. I’ve been instructed to ensure you have everything you could possibly need.”

I turned and gaze around at the immense open floorpan, the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the modern furnishings. My place back home was a far cry from all this, namely that my place back home was one I shared with my mother. “I think I’ll be just fine here, uh…?”

“Arnold,” the man said, smiling again.

“I’m Lizzy.”

He nodded. He knew that already. Of course.

“You need anything, Miss Lizzy, and I’m right downstairs.”

I offered him a smile that I knew looked tired, but I hoped felt genuine. “Thank you.”

He backed out, nodding and bowing a little bit as he pulled the door to the flat shut. I moved quickly and bolted it. Then, I did a quick perimeter walk, and finally scouted for bugs.

There was no real reason there would be any devices, but old habits died hard. And technically, I was on an assignment. It just looked a whole lot different from most of my regular assignments.

Everything suddenly looked a whole lot different.

I stood in front of those enormous windows, gazing down on the town of Wilcox and wondering about the man I’d been sent here to find. I hadn’t seen him in person in years. And the last time we’d seen one another, he probably hadn’t noticed me. That was the nature of our positions, of course.

It’d been different when we were kids. Funny how rules of propriety seemed to be unnecessary when you were little. We probably should have known better, but we did what we did anyway. It was my mother who probably would have faced consequences, had there been any—for allowing her daughter to step outside the clear confines drawn by her position. But there never were any.

And so Declan and I had been friends.

We’d played hide and seek—lord knew at his house there were plenty of places to hide. We’d played video games and watched movies and sports together. And since we were the same age, we’d even been taught together by the in-home educators his parents paid for.

And when we were little, I’d given it very little thought.

Just like I’d given little thought to the fact that Declan was my first crush, the first boy to hold my hand, and the first boy to ever kiss me—if you could count a tiny peck at nine years old that was followed by hysterical giggles on both our parts.

We’d been young, and neither of us had been bogged down by responsibility.

But now?

Everything had changed.