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It’s enough to terrify me, but I’m going to keep my wits together.
“OK.” I say, getting to my feet. “I know what I need to do.”
“And what’s that, Princess?’ Chase sneers, as I head for the door.
I turn, and level him a glare. “Since you guys are content to sit around here on your asses, I’m going to do what you all can’t. I’m going to get my husband back.”
* * *
First thing the next morning,I’m sitting in an interview room at the FBI offices in midtown. I haven’t slept a wink, but I make sure I look the part: a crisp white blazer over a matching mini-skirt, my hair sleek and blow-dried, perfect makeup and tasteful jewelry. I look every inch the society sweetheart, and I plan to use that image like a weapon.
“Can we get you anything?” the junior agent waiting with me asks. He’s been staring at my legs since I walked in, so I smile, like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Aren’t you a doll? I’d just love some coffee, if you don’t mind. Two sugars, cream?”
“I… Sure,” he blurts, looking flustered.
“Miles?” I ask, turning to the man beside me. There’s no way I was walking in here unprotected. And if Nero trusts him, that’s good enough for me. “Coffee?”
He looks thrown. “Uh, sure. Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back.” The agent darts out, and I exhale, collecting myself.
“Nero won’t be happy,” Miles mumbles, looking nervously around. “He said to keep you far away from this mess.”
“Well, we can’t always get what we want, can we?” I say, determined not to waver from my plan.
I look around. We’re in abrightly lit, windowless room with nothing but a metal table and chairs inside. And a mirror on the wall, of course. It’s got to be a one-way mirror, just like in a bad cop movie. I can imagine some higher-up in a suit standing on the other side of the glass, watching as we chat.
“So, how was your weekend?” I ask pleasantly.
Miles boggles.
“Lily…”
“Just making conversation,” I say, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in my stomach.
I need to be an ice queen. Fucking unmovable.
The door suddenly swings open, and a stern-faced woman enters. She’s in her fifties, maybe, wearing a severe black pantsuit, with her dark hair pulled back in a low bun. She’s all business, giving me a sharp look.
“Lily Barretti?” she asks briskly
“That’s me,” I answer with a bright smile. I offer my hand. “So lovely to meet you, Ms…?”
“Agent Lydia Compton,” she corrects me.
“Lydia! What a lovely name,” I coo. “One of my girlfriends named her daughter that. Did you know it means, father’s joy?”
She looks at me like I’m crazy, but it’s all part of my plan. The more they underestimate me, the simpler this will be.
“You do understand why you’re here?” she asks slowly, like I’m an idiot.
I keep smiling. “To help with this mix-up,” I reply brightly. “I’m sure we can get the misunderstanding about my husband all cleared up.”
She mutters something under her breath, rolling her eyes as Agent Greggs walks in, joining us.
“Lily,” he nods, taking a seat at the table, but everything about his body language tells me he’s not calling the shots now. This woman must be his boss.
