“Ari, you’re on another planet. Are you coming back soon to join me? Because I really want to meet Jimmy Fallon, and I kind of need you to arrange that. Remember, this little press trip to New York is supposed to be my pre-wedding present!” Eva furrows her brow at me in the mirror as she applies another layer of mascara on her already very thick lashes.

“Sorry,” I mumble. I’m sprawled on the leather couch in Scarlet’s dressing room backstage at The Tonight Show, and I’ve been listening to Eva gush about Jimmy Fallon for the past twenty minutes. I, on the other hand, can’t seem to think about anything other than every salacious detail from my night with Jeff. Eva’s future father-in-law. What in the hell have I gotten myself into?

This trip was supposed to clear my head before we put our plans in motion. It got me the hell out of Conlon’s house and onto a plane, far away from all the bullshit. I need time to process everything that’s happened. My back is aching, and my feet are sizzling in these new shoes. It’s been a hell of a day, and in a few hours, we’ll be on another red eye back to Los Angeles. That’s when the real fun begins.

My iPhone rings and I grab it out of my handbag. I let out a deep sigh as I peer at the screen. “Eva, give me a minute, okay?” I hurry outside the dressing room and mumble into the phone. “Ollie, what’s up?”

“Jeff’s been calling nonstop.”

“And? Have you answered?”

“Nope, I send every call to voicemail.”

“Do me a favor, return the call and tell him you’ll have the surveillance fixed within a day, that they don’t need Scarlet to get a bug in there. That’ll buy us some time.”

“Okay, what else?”

I tug on a strand of my hair and twist it around my pinkie. “I was at Conlon’s place this morning, trying to get the details, but he wouldn’t give me a fucking crumb.”

“I know. I’ve got ears on you at all times, remember? You know the deal. He’s going to spring the details on you when you’re least prepared. It’s the way he works. Swift action, no trail of evidence left behind.”

“But our plan is to wait for him to make his move and then arrest him, and unless he tells me when and how, we’re screwed. I can’t let him slip through the cracks again. We’ve been on him for too long.” I clench my fists, ready to hurl them against the door. “I need to get him talking.”

“Did he want you to suck his dick?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Please don’t ask me that. I’d erased his disgusting advances from my mind.”

“Ari, Jeff’s crew is at the ready. His guys are tracking Conlon, too. I can only hold them off for so long. If Jeff figures out Conlon’s plan to steal that pension fund, he and his guys are going to get caught in the crossfire.”

A deep sigh escapes my lips. I’d delegated the recon of Jeff’s scheme to Ollie because I’m in too deep, and this is all hitting way too close to home. I need to keep my attention focused on Conlon because if I so much as blink, we’ll lose our chance to string him up by his saggy balls and hang him in front of a jury. And using Jeff as a pawn in our op - something I’d thought about too many times to count – would never work because he’s too hotheaded to let someone else call the shots. He wants to take down Conlon his way, and he’d never expose his team to help the FBI, an organization that put him in this situation to begin with. “We need to keep Jeff away from this. If the FBI finds out he’s back on Conlon’s tail, they’ll arrest him on the spot.”

“And if he finds out you’re leading the undercover team to take down Conlon for the Bureau? How do you think that’s going to go over? Especially after last night?”

I chomp down on my lower lip. “What do you know about last night?”

“Pretty much everything, although I stopped listening after a while. Let me guess, that wasn’t part of the plan?”

“No, it wasn’t.” My eyes wander to the dressing room door, and I pray that Eva is still applying mascara. Shit, I’d forgotten about the little tracking device Ollie embedded in my Apple watch. More drama is the last thing I need right now. “It…it shouldn’t have happened. Please, Ollie, don’t—”

“I think it’s a big fucking mistake to get mixed up with Jeff Torres, and I really don’t want to hear any more about it, okay? You know how I feel about you, and I know you’re not on the same page. You have the right to fuck whoever you want, but don’t expect me to take the fall for you if shit with this op goes sideways. You’re playing with fire, and someone is going to get her ass singed because of it. Know that.”

His voice turns cold and hard, but I can hear the hurt lingering just beyond. We’ve been working together for years, and as one of the best undercover agents at the Bureau, there’s nobody I’d rather have as my partner. But that’s how our relationship works best. I can’t bring emotion into what we do because it’s dirty and dangerous. I need to think with a level head, and so does he. Recently that’s changed, and I’m desperate to get us back on track for our current mission - the takedown of Trey Conlon, the one person who’s been able to evade the FBI for years because of his money and contacts. A tiny shudder runs through me. My tracks are clean, but Conlon is ruthless. He would cut your neck for the promise of making a nickel.

That’s why I need to keep Ollie focused on the task at hand. Conlon needs to be stopped before he ruins any more lives. And he needs to stop using their money to finance his crap movies. Winners at Cannes, my ass. I’d like to know who’s doing the voting.

“I understand, Ollie. Just please call Jeff. I’ll be back in the morning, and we can take it from there.”

“Will do.” Click.

I lean against the door, clutching my phone. My fingers itch to dial Jeff’s number. Wait, I don’t even have his number. My brow furrows. I’ve never had to call him; he always seems to find me. But even though I really wish I had his number right now, it’s better that I don’t. Emotion isn’t something I have time for – not with Ollie or Jeff or anyone else.

And I felt a shit load of those pesky emotions last night, enough to cloud my head and throw me off-guard when I met with Conlon this morning. That cannot happen again. If I miss a single step, we lose our chance to nab him.

I take a deep breath and allow my mind to wander, just for a few seconds, so I can relive those moments of being wrapped in Jeff’s arms, of feeling his hard body against mine, of being rocketed to a place I thought I’d never get to experience. I’m not one to screw around casually, but relationships get messy, and I don’t have patience for that. My career comes first.

These feelings I’m having - very much against my will, by the way - are not casual. Not by any stretch. They’re more borderline smitten, synonymous for very fucking bad.

The dressing room door creaks open. “Ari,” Eva whisper-giggles, clutching a flute of champagne in her hand. “Come inside and have a drink. You look like you can use one, and if you don’t, I’m going to finish the whole bottle.”

I grin, following her back into the dressing room. “Some bachelorette party, huh?”

“Are you kidding?” She flops onto the couch. “It’s the best ever! I don’t need a night of stumbling from bar to bar. This is absolutely perfect. You and me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” She pauses to take another sip of champagne. “Except, you know…Jimmy.”

“I’m already on it. You’ll get to meet him after the taping.”

Eva lets out a little shriek. “Oh my God! That alone trumps a night in Vegas any day.”

I take a sip of the champagne and sit across from her. “I’m glad you think so. It’s the least I can do for my baby sister.”

“So.” She crosses her legs and focuses her blue eyes on me. They’re full of questions; questions I don’t know that I want to answer. “Last night.”

My mouth suddenly feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton and Saltine crackers. Bone freaking dry. I try to clear my throat through all of the imaginary gunk. “What about it? I think it was a lot of fun, way better than any other shower I’ve been to. The cocktail party was a great idea, and you know Mom loves her wine.”

Eva shakes her head. “Ari, stop rambling. You didn’t have a date last night. Why not?”

I roll my eyes. “Who was I supposed to ask? Ollie?”

“He’s good for you. You need someone like him; someone who can ground you. I feel like this whole PR thing is so below you, and all the superficiality is mind-numbing, don’t you think?”

I almost let out a snort. If she only knew. “I know it seems that way, but I actually get to use the very expensive set of skills I picked up in law school to handle contracts and deals on behalf of my clients.” I gulp down my champagne. “So, I’m using my degree after all.”

“Don’t deflect.”

“I’m just pointing out the fact that my job may not be as fluffy as you think.” I wink.

“And what about the wedding?”

I honestly need about five more glasses of this stuff if I’m going to keep up with her runaway train of thought. “What about it?”

“Who are you bringing?”

“Nobody.”

Her face drains of all color. I actually watch it grow paler by the second. All because I’ll be flying solo. “You need a date.”

“No, I don’t.”

She slams the flute on the coffee table and stands up in a huff. “Ari, I respect what you’ve done and your big career plans. But you have to stop holding guys at arm’s length. If you let someone in, it doesn’t mean you’re going to end up like Mom and Dad.”

Ah, no. But my line of work doesn’t exactly call for a plus one, not that I can clue her into that little detail. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m happy with my life, with the choices I’ve made? I thought you were going to let this go after last time.”

“I know, it’s just that…” She sighs and leans against the dressing table. “I was watching Damon’s parents last night. They seem to get along okay, but they’re broken, too. It just got me thinking. If Damon had been afraid of going down the same path and ending up like them, we’d have never gotten together.”

“So, what does this have to do with me? You got your Prince Charming. He wasn’t afraid of becoming like his parents. Go, him.”

“Yeah, but don’t you see?”

Nope, I’m not seeing a damned thing, but I know somewhere buried in all this rhetoric is a point.

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“I’m sorry, when did I screw up my first chance?”

“You didn’t.” She inches toward me, stumbling on the woven carpet. “But Damon’s dad does.”

Cue the record-scratch sound effect.

What the fuck?

“And what does he have to do with me?” The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. I do not like where this is going. Truth be told, I’m not even sure where it’s headed, but somehow, Jeff made his way into this room. He needs to make an exit. Very damned quickly.

Eva giggles. “Silly girl. I just mean you need to open yourself up to possibilities. Mom is all over that like maggots on rotten meat. But maybe it’s her time, her second chance. She’s a little vacuous, sure, but all in all a good person. And he’s hot as fuck. She needs to get laid. It might loosen her up a little. Unfreeze the ice on her ass, you know?”

I think I might just throw up.

She falls onto the couch, splashing my black skirt with champagne. I adore this woman, but she cannot hold her liquor.

“So what do you think? Should I try to hook them up? I know Mom would be down for it.”

Jeff…with my mother…naked…argh! Bile rises in my throat, and it takes a minute before I can utter a reply without spewing my true feelings all over my shoes. “I think since they’re both consenting adults, they can figure things out on their own.”

“Maybe. I bet he has an amazing body.”

“Are you fantasizing about your future father-in-law? Because that’s more than a little disturbing. Did I ever tell you about that girl I knew in college who got engaged to her boyfriend and then at the engagement party was found fucking her future father-in-law?” True story. Disgusting. Girl never lived it down, either. It was always the ugly ass elephant following her around.

Eva’s face screws into a grimace. “Gross! No! I’m just saying he’s nice to look at. Trust me, there’s no reason for me to fantasize about anyone other than Damon. The man is hung like you don’t even—“

I hold up a hand. “No, you’re right. I don’t even.”

Eva sucks down the rest of her champagne. “I’m so sleepy. When is Jimmy coming down? Do we have to hang out with Scarlet again? She’s such a dipshit. Doesn’t your head fill with oatmeal when you talk to her for longer than thirty seconds?”

I snicker, knowing sleep is near for my sister. “No, we don’t have to hang out with her anymore. She’s her manager’s problem for the rest of the trip.”

I glance down at my phone. An incoming text just lit up the screen. “Call me.”

It’s from my boss at the Bureau, Nate Christensen. A man who doesn’t know many words other than “what do you have for me?” and “what’s your strategy for bringing down this asshole?”

I haven’t made contact in a while, since there hasn’t really been much of a reason, and he lets me operate on my own alongside Ollie. Something must have gone up the chain for him to be sending a text like that.

“E, I need to make another call,” I murmur, but her eyelids are already drooping closed. I have to take it outside. Even in her comatose state, I can’t risk blowing my cover.

I dial his number and bite my pinkie nail while I wait for him to answer.

“Ariana.” That’s it. No hello, how are you? Just the basics.

“Hey, Nate. I got your text. What’s up?” My eyes dart up and down the hallway, and there are so many crew members shuffling past. I have to keep this conversation heavily coded.

“I need an update on the target. When is this happening?”

I furrow my brow. “Well, I had a meeting this morning, and I’m still waiting for the final details.”

“He didn’t give them to you?”

“No.” I continue to nibble.

“Interesting. What’s he waiting for?”

“Based on our partnership agreement, he’s now got full access and authority over my company’s bank account. The only problem is, I will only know once the money is transferred into the account. He won’t tell me where it’s coming from, and that’s the missing link. If we can’t prove the source, we can’t prove it’s dirty. And he’s not stupid enough to transfer it directly. It’ll go through a few accounts, but we need to trace it through to make our case and arrest him.”

“We need the source, Ari. How close are you to finding it?”

“Ollie is doing some research, but I’m concerned it’ll take too much time. Jeff fed him some bullshit story when he first made contact, and Ollie suspected, based on their past dealings at the Bureau, that it was a masked revenge scheme. But Jeff isn’t stupid. He told Ollie just enough, but not anything close to the full story, which is why we’re still struggling to piece it all together. I need to get in there again, to see how much I can squeeze out of Conlon. Things are going to happen quickly, and if we miss our opportunity this time, I have no idea how long it’ll be before he tries this again. He keeps changing his pattern and will continue to do so. We don’t have another year to waste on an investigation if we have to start from scratch.”

“Agree. Tell me what you need.”

I nearly choke on the images sifting through my mind. Nobody can help with this next part, and the thought alone makes my stomach churn. But hey, this is the job, and I’m the only one who can handle it. I’ll do it because this bastard needs to be stopped. Enough people have been hurt. “Tomorrow. I’ll handle it tomorrow.”

“Let me know when it’s done. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Click.

My call. It’s going to mean I did what I needed to do for the sake of my job and the livelihoods of so many people. A shudder runs through me. I’m risking a lot. It better not be in vain.