Fool Me Once (First Wives #1)

Rick peered out the window. “What makes you think she’s ever coming back?”

“She might not, but until she uses the card, it’s all I have to go on.”

“How often have you been sitting here?”

“Whenever I wasn’t with Lori. And when I was, I had a colleague helping out.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like partners.”

“Colleague, not a partner.”

“How sure are you that she works for Petrov?”

The question made his head itch. “She knew of Petrov . . . and she knew of the person who hired me.”

“So she’s good at what she does.”

“Yes.”

“How soon will we hear from your contacts with the fingerprints?” Reed told them about the wineglass and cell phone.

“Takes a day to run through the database. The fact she had the card sent here points in the direction that she might be local.”

“That was my guess, too.”

Rick looked at the military-style watch on his arm, the kind that screamed waterproof, had a compass, and due to the size of the thing could probably be eaten as an MRE.

“I take it you’re not the patient sort.”

“I don’t like sitting when I could be doing.” He reached for the handle on the door.

“What are you doing?”

Rick popped the trunk, put something in his pocket, and winked as he walked past the car and into the storefront mail spot.

Twenty minutes later, he waltzed out of the building, tucked behind the steering wheel, and turned the engine over.

“Where are we going?”

“Food. I’m hungry.”

“What did you do?”

Rick did a U-turn in the middle of the street and drove back the way they’d come. He removed his cell phone from his pocket and opened a screen.

Reed couldn’t help but laugh. “You managed to put in a camera in only twenty minutes?”

“No, I did it in ten, but I needed to open a mailbox, and that took a few more.”

“You guys are good.”

“We like our toys,” Rick told him.

“Who else can see this?”

“Headquarters.”

“You sound like you’re in the CIA.”

Rick cringed. “No, thank you. I can’t stand paperwork. Private security offers us the opportunity to work without red tape.”

“How many people do you provide private security for?”

Rick snickered. “Why? Looking for a new job?”

Reed stared out the window as the world sped by and didn’t answer the question.




Late, hungover, and really happy she wasn’t due in court, Lori inched into her office with dark sunglasses covering her bloodshot eyes.

She sat in her pool of self-pity and bathed in alcohol and carbohydrates for twenty-four straight hours. Now she was determined to push the man who had all but taken over her life for months over the edge and let him go.

“Coffee,” she told Liana as she walked by the reception desk. “Nothing but emergency calls today. Reschedule my meetings. Tell them I’m ill.”

“Wow, you look like crap.”

“It’s a good thing I like you,” she said as she walked away.

It took over an hour and two cups of coffee before Lori could read one e-mail and make sense of it. She and Avery had taken the man-bashing train long and hard, while Sam had gotten off by seven in the evening to get to work on the problem. Lori would have felt guilty for pushing the problem off for an entire day if not for Sam’s continued support of her plight. We’ve all been there. Take a day or two, then put on those big girl panties and let’s get to work.

“Lori?” her secretary quietly called her from the door. “Sam is on the line. Should I have her call back?”

The blinking button on the phone caught her eye. “I got it.”

“Good morning,” Lori answered.

“How is that headache?”

“Befitting the occasion, I’m afraid.”

“Lots of water.”

It hurt to smile. “You didn’t call to give me hangover tips.”

“Right. I hope you freed up your day.”

“I have.”

“Good. Let’s start pulling files. I need you tell me what the time frame was between acquisitions of our payees to when they saw and signed the contracts.”

Lori wrote a note. “Why?”

“It’s been brought to my attention that if we had our brides and grooms signing contracts within a week or less of seeing the contracts, the agreements may come into question, since you represented both parties.”

“I didn’t always represent both parties.”

“Then those cases don’t apply. Just pull the ones where you were the only legal counsel.”

Lori saw the connection and possible problem through the fog in her brain. “Since when did you become a paralegal?”

“Someone brought this to my attention.”

Lori didn’t even ask. “Let me know if that someone needs a job. I’ll get on this. Have you spoken with Shannon?”

“Carter has called Paul and is arranging a meeting.” Carter was the preceding governor of California before Paul took office. His marriage to Eliza, Sam’s right hand in Alliance before she became first lady of the state, was how Paul learned of Alliance in the first place.

“Fine, you speak with Paul, I’m calling Shannon.”

“Talk soon.”

Lori left a message on Shannon’s cell and let her secretary know to patch the call through when she returned it.

For the next three hours, Lori pulled files and placed them in three boxes. At risk, a week or more, and second representation.




Reed was prepared to disappear for a while to find Sasha. With the intervention of Neil and Rick, that didn’t pan out. Researching anything online or making calls while in his apartment, however, was out of the question. There was no way in hell Rick and his people didn’t help themselves to placing bugs in his space. And until the threat against Lori was over, he was fine with it. He deserved the invasion of his privacy. He was equally sure his Jeep was on the radar. But that didn’t stop him from finding the bugs and learning their capabilities.

When his phone rang at six in the morning, four hours after he’d gone to bed, he was surprised they’d given him that much time to sleep.

Only it wasn’t the Rick and Neil team that called.

“You’re an asshole.” It was Avery.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. “I know.”

“You should be castrated and strung up naked in the town square where mounds of fire ants can feed off you for months.”

“Oh, wow, you’ve given this some thought.” And now the image was stuck in his head like an earworm.

“You broke her heart.”

That image hurt more.

“I know.”

Avery paused.

“We’re plotting your demise.”

He needed coffee. “A slow and painful one, from the sound of it.”

“A deserving one.”

She said nothing for a moment.

“You know what really bites, Reed?”

No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me. “What?”

“We liked you. We all really liked you.”

He needed Jack Daniel’s in his coffee. He heard his mother’s voice in his head. If you’re sorry, say it, mean it, own it, and do something about it!

“I am sorry.”

“Really?” She didn’t sound convinced.

“More than you know.”

“Then prove it!”

She hung up without hearing his reply.

“I will.”