It wasn’t the worst look she’d ever seen on a man.

She cleared her throat.

“We’re finished,” Cade said.

Brooke checked the time on her computer. “That was fast.”

“These guys know what they’re doing.”

Indeed. And let’s hope you do, too, Parker. For the first time since the Mighty Morgan had shown up at her office on Friday, Brooke felt nervous. Everything was set and ready to go, which meant that she was next up at bat. Until now everything had seemed simple enough and, frankly, a little exciting and secret-agent-esque—make sure Senator Sanderson sits here, put Huxley and his fake date over there, trade a few barbs with Cade—but suddenly everything had become real. She, Brooke Parker, was about to participate in a federal sting operation that evening, and while she considered herself to be a savvy businesswoman and a great negotiator, this definitely was not her wheelhouse. And now several people—hell, basically every citizen of Illinois, all of whom deserved to be represented by honest politicians (she was still going with the corruption angle on this one despite Cade’s vagueness)—were counting on her to get this right.

No pressure there.

“Okay, then,” she said in a bright tone. Nervous or not, she’d be damned if she betrayed that in front of him. For Cade Morgan, prosecutor extraordinaire, this kind of intrigue and high-stakes drama was probably an everyday occurrence. “I’ll just grab my stuff.”

She packed up her briefcase, trying to ignore the fact that he was watching her. “Shoot,” she said, remembering something. “I need to lock up the office and the restaurant.” She turned back to her desk, holding her briefcase while she rummaged around with her free hand. “Keys, keys, I just saw those keys . . .” She’d borrowed a spare set to Sogna from their VP of security and had last seen them . . . somewhere.

She felt Cade at her side and looked up.

He reached for her hand. “These keys?” His blue eyes danced as he jingled something in her fingers.

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She’d had the keys looped around her finger the entire time.

Crap.

“Ah, yes. Thank you,” she said, making a mental note to give herself a good, solid head-thunk as soon as she was alone.

He cocked his head, studying her. “You’re nervous about tonight.” A statement, not a question.

She shook her head. “No.” She glared at his knowing expression. “Fine, maybe a little. If I threw you into a complex multimillion-dollar restaurant deal on less than forty-eight hours’ notice, how well do you think you’d do?”

“I’d kick ass.”

Truly, she wanted to shake him at times. “I swear, Morgan, you may be the most infuriating lawyer I’ve ever—” She stopped and collected herself. Rule Number One of any business arrangement: never let the other side see you rattled. “I’m locking up now.” She gestured to the door. “That means you—go.”

He seemed to be fighting back another of his aren’t-you-a-funny-one grins. “I’ll walk you out.”

Wonderful. “If you insist.”

They walked side-by-side through the empty office, no conversation, just the same aggravating, pestering agitation that had been present since the moment they’d first met. Once outside, she locked the door to Sterling’s offices and turned around. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I can take care of locking up the restaurant by myself.”

He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out his wallet. He took out a business card and handed it to her. “That has my cell number. Huxley will be there tonight, but if anything goes wrong, or if anything concerns you, just call me. I’ll be in the van with Agent Roberts.” His gaze seemed to soften. “And for the record, I was a little hesitant about this sting operation at first, too. Normally in an undercover investigation, I’ve got a cooperating witness who’s willing to wear a wire. Which makes things a lot simpler. So when Vaughn and Huxley came to me with this idea of bugging a restaurant table, I was a bit skeptical whether we’d be able to pull it off. Especially since the plan is so dependent upon the assistance of a civilian.”

“You’re telling me this now?” she asked. “Where was all this hesitation on Friday afternoon when you first approached me?”

“Gone.” His eyes held hers. “Because I knew, ten seconds after walking into this office and meeting you, that we had this in the bag.” With a nod in good-bye, he turned and walked off toward the elevators.

Brooke stood there for a moment, unable to move because her brain needed all its functional capabilities to process the fact that Cade had just given her an actual compliment.

This had been a most unusual morning.

Keys in hand, she headed in the direction of Sogna to lock up the restaurant. As she turned the corner, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Cade walking in the opposite direction.

At the same moment, he looked back over his shoulder, too. Their eyes met for a brief second before they both turned back, going about their business.

* * *

CADE STOPPED IN front of the elevators, where Huxley and Vaughn waited for him.

“Guess that kills my chances of asking for her phone number,” Vaughn said.

“No clue what you’re talking about.” Cade stepped inside the elevator when it arrived at their floor.

“Sure you don’t.” With a mischievous smile, Vaughn followed him into the elevator, along with Huxley.




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