Page 34 of The Work Wife

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Jamie stood when they called her seating group and went to stand in line. She was nervous about seeing her father. Should she tell him about the wedding? At some point he was bound to find out. But what if he asked her questions about why she got married? She wouldn’t be able to thwart a professional interrogation.

Best to just let it go for now. She’d tell him another time.

She held out her phone so the attendant could scan her boarding pass and had only taken one step past the podium when she heard her name. She turned to see Weston hold out his paper boarding pass, a carry-on bag strapped over his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as they moved to the side.

“Cindy.” That one word explained his presence.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, smarty-pants. You said you’d thought of everything.”

“I should have used my own card.” Damn it.

“Yep.”

“It was the points. I fall for it every time.” He gave her a pained look and she nodded. “Right. I still should have used my personal card.”

He put his hand at the small of her back to guide her down the jetway to the plane.

“You’re going to Virginia?” It was obvious since they were in line at the entrance to the plane.

“They think we’re going to Virginia for our honeymoon. If we’re going to convince them this is legit, we’re going to have to take some pictures.”

“But my dad—”

“Your dad is bound to find out at some point. Since your plan isn’t as infallible as you thought, it’s best to get it over with now.”

She nodded numbly and took her seat. The worst part about watching her plan fall apart was that she had no one to blame but herself. She was responsible for all of this.

Karma was working overtime on this project.

“At least your dad likes me, I think.”

“You just married his little girl.”

“If he kills me and uses his police contacts to hide my body, I will never forgive you, Jamie Renee Archer.”

She was doomed.

Chapter 7

Jamie’s foot bounced the whole flight, despite Wes putting his hand on her knee three times. She hadn’t taken the hint, and her nervousness had spawned his own. He needed to come up with something else to think about before he jumped out of the plane.

“What are we going to tell him?” he asked.

“I have no idea.”

“We could tell him the truth.”

The look she gave him told him that was a stupid idea. As if she should talk. She was queen of stupid ideas. “Are you nuts? If I tell my father I got married so I could go on a trip to schmooze a client, he will have me committed.”

“Okay, then. We’ll go with the story.”

“He’s a seasoned police detective and a retired FBI agent. He’s interrogated terrorists and spies. He’ll see right through this.”