Heart-Shaped Hack

“Of course, Kate.”


She gave Helena a final hug. “You’ll hear from me soon. You can count on that.”



She met Paige and Audrey for a good-bye lunch at Aster Café. If they hadn’t quite known what to say after Kate and Stuart broke up, they really didn’t know what to say to a friend who’d suffered such a devastating loss, and who could blame them? They’d fumbled their way through predictions of future happiness, and their sympathetic expressions touched Kate and made her feel bad for her deception. She’d longed to tell them Ian was alive, but that was a can of worms she’d promised never to open. Kate would miss getting together with them, but she’d stay in touch.

“My computer is having some problems,” Kate said. “Viruses. You know how that goes. I hate responding to e-mail on my phone, so once I get settled I’ll buy a new laptop and send you a message.”

When lunch was over, they’d shared a final hug, and then Kate walked the streets of St. Anthony Main for the last time.



“Miss?” One of the movers held a clipboard. “I think that’s everything. Can you sign here please?”

Kate scribbled her signature on the form.

“You have a good day now,” he said.

Before she left, she took one last look around her apartment and smiled. Chad was wrong. Clearly, Kate was the one who was nuts.



Two hours into the drive, she stopped for gas and sent a text to Ian while she waited for the tank to fill.

Kate: How are things going?

Ian: Boy, is your dad PISSED.

Kate: As long as he doesn’t bring up all the different types of fraud caused by faking one’s death, you should be okay.

Ian: Yeah, HE OPENED WITH THAT.

Kate: You are so screwed, man.

Ian: I’ve only been here for forty-five minutes, and his face has turned red twice. He went into the den a while ago. Pretty sure he’s drafting some sort of legal contract that says he’ll have my balls if I ever fake my own death again.

Kate: If you ever fake your own death again, I’m the one who will have your balls (and not in the way you like).

Ian: I’m thankful you have not lost your sense of humor.

Kate: It’s only recently returned and is still a bit skittish. Please don’t do anything to scare it away.

Ian: As soon as your dad calms down a little, I’m asking him for your hand in marriage.

Kate: I’ll take Victorian mating rituals for eight hundred, Alex! Also, did I hit my head or something, because I don’t remember discussing marriage with you?

Ian: A beautiful woman once told me that when it comes to men, you either break up with them or you marry them. We did not break up. And I’m fully aware that you’re a modern woman, but I’m not positive your dad won’t actually veto our union. This is a sticky situation and needs to be handled… carefully.

Kate: Aren’t you putting the cart before the horse? You haven’t actually proposed to me. I AM NOT A SURE THING, IAN.

Ian: You will have a proper proposal, but first your dad and I need to conclude this extremely uncomfortable meeting.

Kate: Ask him how much my dowry is. I’m just curious.

Ian: How about I don’t poke the bear right now? The only reason your dad might actually ENTERTAIN the idea of having me for a son-in-law is because I’m kind of a big deal at the FBI. I’ve done too many good things in the name of national security for him to completely discount me.

Kate: Oh! Tell him about the time you got arrested for hacking the Pentagon.

Ian: I’m going to save that particular anecdote for another time.

Kate: Like the holidays.

Ian: I hear your dad coming. I should probably put my phone away in case he’s not done yelling. If he did draft a contract, he’ll probably make me sign it in blood.

Kate: I’m certainly going to.

Ian: I can’t wait to kiss that smart mouth of yours. Drive carefully (but please don’t dawdle). I’ll be tracking you and eagerly awaiting your arrival. Love you.

Kate: Love you too. Here I come. xoxo





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