“My granddad’s old tire shop,” Mia said as light suddenly flooded the room.
She flicked the link on her bracelet and switched off her Suit. He did the same. He scanned the old tires piled up along the wall, his eyes landing on a tarp-covered car. She yanked back the black material to reveal a Toyota Yaris.
“My grandma didn’t like me driving my fancy car around here. She felt it would bring too much attention. I drive this when I’m in town.”
Mia nodded for him to get in. She drove the Yaris out of the shed, then rushed back to the doors to lock up. Soon they were on the road, venturing in the opposite direction.
Calvin switched off a country music crooner, giving her the side-eye.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m thinking of a master plan.” A devious smile graced her honey face.
Evidently from her furrowed brow, pressed lips, and taunt jaw, Mia’s mind was on getting them out of this alive. Calvin’s was on figuring out how to get this project safely into the hands of the Sanibel Research Center.
Only then, if they were still breathing, could he entertain something divine and slightly wicked with the woman he’d come to love.
Chapter 10
Mia tried to remain focused on the strategy for once they arrived at the drop-off, and not on whatever this thing was between her and Calvin, as they entered Houston’s city limits. She wasn’t ready to deal with all the emotions, fears, and doubts that doing so would incite. Her attention needed to be on making sure they’d have an opportunity to explore the possibilities in the future. Their chances of survival increased in public settings, but this team, whomever they were, had skills.
Her phone chimed. She handed it to Calvin as she exited for Woodlands Parkway.
“No one has shown up to the office,” he read. “Your dad gave the green light to Sanibel.”
She sped through a yellow light before taking a right turn. Not a Tahoe or Suburban in sight. The black glass building came into view.
“Hit the brakes,” Calvin screamed, putting a grip on the console as she neared a black Volvo.
Mia complied. Tires screeched as she ceased her maneuver to pass the Volvo. The vehicle behind her honked its horn in protest. She glanced to the right at the moment a man in the back seat lifted a rifle and pulled the trigger. The bullets shattered the window of a parked BMW. She checked the rearview. Nowhere to go.
People left their cars and ran. The doors of the Volvo opened.
She shifted the gear into park and pointed to a brown brick building. “When I shoot, run for cover.”
Seconds later, she opened the door, pulling the trigger causing the gunmen to retreat behind the vehicle. Calvin sprinted away. The gunman near the trunk aimed his rifle toward her. She ducked.
Mia reached in and grabbed the bookbag as the bullets sprayed her Yaris. She turned on The Suit. No other way she could safely make it to Calvin without cover.
She stayed low as they advanced to her abandoned car.
Calvin peeked out from behind the brown brick, his face etched with worry.
“Calvin,” she touched his arm when she reached him. “Go dark.”
Mia and Calvin proceeded to the Sanibel Research Center’s office on foot. Sirens wailed in the distance. She strained to listen for Calvin’s breathing to make sure he was with her as the sirens became louder and panicked screams rent the air. Mia waited until the security guards were distracted before she cracked open the glass door and slid in. The metal detectors sounded. The guards rushed from their security stations, only to share confused looks because they couldn’t find anything wrong.
Mia and Calvin took the elevator several floors up before turning off The Suits.
“We made it,” Calvin said, an ear-to-ear grin splitting his face.
Mia couldn’t relax, though. She had to keep her focus on what would be waiting when the doors opened. The numbers increased to double digits. “It’s not over yet. Stay on guard.”
She looked to her right when they stepped off the elevator. A long hallway with a range of frosted glass doors met her view. To the left was a tall oak desk with a sign next to it that said Ring Bell for Assistance and a carpeted waiting area with several gray and black chairs and abstract art.
As they approached, a short man in a brown jacket turned from a television screen. “Security didn’t tell me you were here.”
Calvin stopped in his tracks. His entire body tensed. “Gordon.”
Mia lifted her Ruger. Every suspicion she’d held was confirmed as Gordon’s devilish smile appeared on his tawny face. “Where’s Walter?”
“He’s checking on your progress.” Gordon’s dark eyes dropped to the case in her hand.
She moved closer to Calvin as footsteps to her right in the distance echoed across the tile.
“Mia.”
She turned toward Walter’s voice from the far side of the room. “Should’ve known you’d be a troublemaker,” Walter said, his gaze narrowed to slits. His olive face had a menacing scowl as he aimed a Remington at them.
“Yet, you still underestimated my abilities,” Mia replied.
“Gordon.” Calvin’s voice was barely a whisper. His shock at the betrayal caused Mia to snap to attention.
Mia tightened her grip on the case and inched toward Calvin, who stood motionless with his face contorting from outrage, to disappointment, to anger.
“You should’ve followed protocol.” Walter lifted the gun. “Give me your weapon and unlock the box.”
“You expected to have the codes,” Mia said, shaking her head.
The numbers under the new protocol they’d roped her into trying were inputted and recorded into the cloud, only accessible to directors, instead of being automatically sent to team leaders. That process totally left Walter out of the loop.
“Unlock it.”
Mia didn’t move to comply. Walter pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the wall behind her before he aimed at Calvin’s head. “I’ll put the next one in him.”
Thankfully, Calvin had his game face on, and was more focused on Gordon, the case, and taking off his bracelet than on the fact that he was a bullet away from not breathing again. Mia’s heart constricted at the thought of losing him. “Okay.”
She slowly put her weapon and the locked box on the desktop, entering the code, but her gaze was on Calvin.
Gordon moved her weapon closer to him and out of her reach. Calvin stepped back toward the waiting area as Walter inched forward.
Walter peered into the open case.
“Why are you doing this?” Calvin’s voice was strangely calm, but Mia could still hear the confusion in his tone.
“The American government would pay pennies, then abuse it,” Gordon said, frowning as though something had left a sour taste in his mouth. “Other agencies and firms who are saving lives across the globe are willing to pay in the billions for it. I’ll be mega rich while still helping the world.”
Calvin’s eyes widened with the revelation that his friend was willing to end his life over money. He moved in, slammed the bracelet onto Gordon’s wrist. “You’ll need this to activate The Suit.”
“No,” Mia yelled.
They had contrived all these details to create this assignment and steal The Suit, hoping no one would suspect them. She wouldn’t let them take Calvin’s life’s work. She pushed Calvin out of the way, grabbing the signpost and swinging it at Walter’s head.
Walter raised a hand to protect himself.
Mia brought it down over his weapon, which clattered on the tiles.
Walter kicked it out of her reach as Calvin lunged for his friend right as Gordon went for the Ruger on the desk. Mia jammed the sign into Walter’s crotch, then clobbered him on the back of the head.
Calvin and Gordon tussled in the waiting room.
Mia went for the gun. Walter recovered, grabbing her ankle. She fell forward, but caught herself before landing on the floor. She thrust out her leg, connecting with Wal
ter’s shoulder before scuttling across the white porcelain squares and getting to her feet. Mia lashed out, clocking him in the jaw, but was answered with a punch to the gut. The pain spread throughout her abdomen, but she managed to give him a side kick to his head.
Walter stumbled, trying not to hit the ground. Mia made it a few inches forward, grabbing for the gun. He sprinted, planting his shoulder into Mia’s abs. Mia grunted at the impact, but repeatedly slammed her elbow into his back.
Unfortunately, it didn’t slow him down. Walter lifted Mia up, throwing her over the desk. Mia bounced off the wall and landed flat on the ground. The case and her discarded gun were a few inches away.
Walter bent down, retrieving the weapon. “You should’ve given me the damn case.”
Mia tried to put her legs back under her. Her body wouldn’t cooperate. The pain splintered so many areas that she tried to get her mind together to give it some direction. Her weapon was wedged under her leg.
Walter raised the Remington at her. “Say goodbye, Mia.”
She didn’t bother to telegraph her next move. Walter’s eyes widened as he gripped his shoulder where Mia’s bullet had sliced clean through, his weapon clattered onto the tile.
His head snapped toward the ding of the elevator. He regrouped and bolted to the fire exit.
“Don’t even think about it,” Mia said, finally managing to put her feet on the floor. She fired at Walter, sending him sprawling across the ground. She rushed to the waiting room to find Calvin standing over Gordon’s convulsing body. He touched a button on his watch.
Gordon’s body stilled, his face a mask of anguish. Calvin confessed, “I put a failsafe in the bracelet in case it landed in the wrong hands.”
“Is he—”
“He’s alive,” Calvin said as she checked for a pulse. “He’s stunned. Same way as if he was hit with a taser.”
Several pairs of feet were rapidly moved across the tile towards them. Mia pulled him into an embrace. A police officer cleared his throat. They turned to find others swarming the area.
After giving a statement to the officers, getting checked out by the paramedics, and securing The Suits with Calvin’s Sanibel contact, Mia checked in with Mr. Martin. Calvin seemed lost in thought as they entered the elevator. She slid her hand into his, knowing that he was processing the betrayal.
Mia stepped in front of him. “I’m here for you.”
Before he could say anything, she rose to her toes and surprised him by planting a kiss on his lips. Mia was fine with the possibility of having to find a new job. She wasn’t alright with losing Calvin Atwood.
Chapter 11
Mia had broken one of her golden rules, and she couldn’t be happier. The scandal with Walter and Gordon outranked her act of fraternizing with a client. She actually received a promotion instead of the firing her contract specified.
Basil, garlic, and oregano greeted her as she entered Calvin’s dining room. The grey stone accented wall and freshly ignited fireplace were perfect for the chilly fall evening. Calvin placed the dinner rolls on the white oak table, checked his watch, then rolled down his sleeves.
Mia wound her arms around his waist. “How is Phase Two going?” she asked, knowing he had stopped working early to get dinner ready for tonight. He had been perfecting glasses that allowed teammates to see each other when The Suits were on. She’d peeked at his notes and knew he was also working on making them bulletproof.
He turned to face her, hands gliding sensuously over her behind. “Work is the last thing on my mind.” Calvin kissed her forehead. “I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous.”
She chuckled as he released her, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair and sliding it on him. “It’s only dinner with my dad.”
“Your gun-carrying dad; the sniper, investigative specialist, and former Secret Service Agent.” Calvin walked to the full-length hall mirror, adjusting then buttoning his charcoal jacket. “And that’s only his career highlights.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Mia was tickled that he was more on edge now than he was when he was running for his life. She could hear him opening and closing the ring box in his pocket. He insisted on being old-fashioned and talking to her dad before making it official.
Calvin’s gaze met hers and a devilish grin appeared. “Since you’re my bodyguard, it’s your job to make sure I stay that way.”
He shifted his stance and lowered his mouth to hers.
She pressed her body against him as he deepened the kiss, igniting a surge of desire. The doorbell rang, ending their intimate moment. Calvin’s head snapped toward the sound. He inhaled and exhaled deeply.
Calvin opened the door. He looked up at the 6’5” massive physique on the porch as though he was in shock. Swallowing hard, he pulled it together. The edges of his mouth curled into a smile. She was confident her father would love him almost as much as she did. One thing she learned from the experience was she had to be willing to acknowledge a good opportunity even when it didn’t come in an ideal circumstance. The job wasn’t the most important thing. Having a life full of love, family, and happiness was her main objective.
“So you’re the one?” Mason asked as he tightly squeezed Calvin’s hand and gave him an intimidating scowl.
“Behave,” she warned, wrapping her arms around her dad. “The dining room’s that way.” She gestured down the hallway.
Mason ducked as he stepped from the concrete onto the wood planks. “You didn’t warn me your dad was huge,” Calvin whispered as her father walked ahead of them.
“You didn’t warn me you’d sweep me off my feet. So, we’re even.” Mia smiled as she joined her dad at the table.
Calvin made small talk, answering general questions as he set the food on the table. As they ate, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of warmth, love, joy and happiness. Mia made an excuse to leave to them alone for a few moments.
This evening was confirmation that she made the right choice and was with the right man. She looked over her shoulder. He winked and she blew him a kiss.
Sugarcoate Deception
Confectioner’s Sugar
London St. Charles
Chapter 1
Four words would put an end to Cadence Goldsmith’s perfect life.
“That’s Mr. Goldsmith, Mommy.”
She searched out the source of that small childlike screech, an unnatural occurrence in the Adali Global Reveal. The event was an exclusive affair for people who worked in the European auto market.
Cadence peered around the velvet curtain from her spot backstage of the McCormick Place Convention Center, surprised to find that her husband, Jackson, and mother were sitting in the front row next to a scowling Steven Bekker, her work nemesis. But that child’s voice, which cut through the hum of conversation at an event, honoring Cadence’s major achievements, was out of place.
“Hiiiiiii, Mr. Goldsmith,” a little girl with light-brown skin, translucent blue-eyes and puffy blonde twists crooned, as she rushed to stand near Jackson. “You work at my school.”
Cadence grimaced, stumbling backward as the curtains swayed toward opposite ends of the stage. Why was a child there and why was she so interested in Jackson? Wait, was that an image of her husband on that child’s shirt?
“I present to you, CDO, Cadence Goldsmith.”
Cadence straightened the blazer of the red power suit she’d paired with a cream camisole, and pointy nude heels that adorned her petite frame. Her curly hair was straight and slicked back into a ponytail. She adjusted her classic pearl necklace, swept away the building anxiety within, and smiled.
Applause rang out as she strutted center stage with her attention on the bleached-blonde woman wearing a navy dress, who grinned and winked at her before taking an empty seat next to Jackson and pulling the little girl onto her lap. Jackson glanced at Cadence, then frowned as he put his focus back on the woman. She didn’t miss the panic that took over his features for a split second.<
br />
Cadence’s heart surged with a bit of panic of her own. Nothing good was going to come of these strange set of occurrences. She prayed that her confidence would still show through, even though relishing the acknowledgment of being the designer of the first self-driving automobile was taking a back seat to Jackson shifting in the chair, her mother peering at him and then the child as though putting two and two together and coming up with fifteen.
Michael Zornig, Adali’s CEO, handed Cadence the microphone and she whispered, “Thanks for bringing my family. It’s a nice touch.”
“You’re welcome,” he responded moving his short-round frame to the opposite side of the stage as the overhead screen descended from the ceiling.
Annoyance had set up residence in her body. Jackson, who seemed occupied with the distraction that little girl had become, hadn’t acknowledged Cadence at all. The wonderful gesture on Mike’s part was all for nothing. She forced a pleasant expression as she observed Jackson and the woman have a heated but whispered conversation. Jackson’s body language—tense and angry—screamed discomfort.
The little girl sat quietly and picked at the glittery letters on the front of her yellow t-shirt with an iron-on picture that Cadence still couldn’t make out clearly because part of it was scrunched in the girl’s fist.
“May I have everyone’s attention please,” Cadence said walking to the edge of the stage, standing in front of Jackson.
The scent of Tom Ford cologne made her body tingle. A thousand men could wear that same fragrance, and she could pick out her husband blindfolded every time.
Jackson’s brown eyes gazed into hers, but the comfort and security she usually felt were missing.
“Mommy, now,” the little girl asked in her outside voice.
“Shhhh.” The woman placed an index finger to her thin pink lips. “Not yet.”
Cadence raised an eyebrow, then glanced at her husband, who shrugged.
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