LITMIR.BIZ

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He’s hanging out with Nick, of all things. They met at some spa.” She shook her head in bewilderment.

      “Soooo…the problem is…?”

      “Don’t you think it’s odd? I mean, Bernard is…older.”

      Mia laughed. “Guys aren’t like women, D. They bond over all sorts of stuff, sports, video games. Age isn’t an issue with them.”

      “Hmm, I guess…”

      “Besides, didn’t you say Nick lost his dad when he was a teen?”

      “Yes.”

      “Maybe Bernie’s like a substitute or something.”

      “You’re probably right. I’m making something out of nothing.”

      “Bet they’re watching a game and drinking beer.”

      Danielle giggled. “Exactly.”

      “See what I mean? Anyway, relax. I need to pack. And don’t forget if you and Savannah need my help…”

      “I know, sis. Thanks.”

      “Good luck. I mean that.”

      “Thanks. Safe travels.”

      “Safe spying.”

      That was what she should be focused on, Danielle reasoned as she disconnected the call—working her first undercover assignment.

      She couldn’t wait to meet Jean.

      The sounds of male laughter drifted into the bedroom. Even with Mia’s wise words about male bonding, she still couldn’t shake her misgivings about Bernard. It was nothing that she could actually put her finger on. He was nice enough and obviously Claudia cared about him. But he simply seemed too good to be true: handsome, smooth talking, well put-together for a man of his age, and he seemed to have plenty of time on his hands. What did he do for a living? How could he afford a fancy spa like the one they were talking about, and where did he come from, anyway? She was probably overanalyzing, seeing ghosts in the closet when there weren’t any. She pushed her wayward thoughts about Bernard Hassell to the back of her mind, at least for the time being. She had more pressing matters to concentrate on. Her first assignment. She grinned with anticipation.

      Chapter 3

      It was three nerve-racking days before Savannah heard from Jean with a date for the meeting.

      “Do I look okay?” Danielle asked for the tenth time in as many minutes as they drove to the Cartel brownstone.

      “Dani, I swear, if you ask me just one more time…”

      “I want to make a good impression.”

      “You’ll be fine. And when have you not made a good impression?” She paused, frowned slightly. “Well, there was that time in the restaurant in Chelsea when your name wasn’t on the reservation list, and the time you got into a shouting match with that model’s agent during a photo shoot, and the time…”

      Danielle held up her hand. “All right, all right! I’ll behave. I get it.” She huffed and folded her arms.

      “What I’m trying to say, sweetie, is you always look fabulous, but you simply have to keep your temper in check and be, uh, more diplomatic.”

      Of the trio, Danielle was notorious for flying off the handle at the drop of a hat, and it didn’t take much for her to feel slighted. But most of her flare-ups occurred when she felt one of her friends was being mistreated or the people she expected to fall in line, such as staff, support people and…well, the general public, didn’t live up to what she expected of them. But if you ever wanted anyone in the trenches with you, it was definitely Danielle. She would go down swinging and still look incredible.

      “I want to make a good impression,” Danielle finally said, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth.

      “You’ll be fine.” Savannah reached across the gears and squeezed Danielle’s hand. “I promise.”

      Danielle looked into Savannah’s eyes and saw the confidence there. She drew in a long breath. “Thanks.”

      “Here we are.”

      Danielle peeked out the window at the very stately four-story brownstone, which looked like all the other well-taken-care-of homes on the restored block. “This is it?”

      Savannah chuckled. “What did you expect? The Batcave?” She unfastened her seat belt and got out. “Come on.”

      Danielle followed Savannah to the ground-floor entrance of the house.

      “See that house across the street?” Savannah said, lifting her chin toward the house.

      “You mean, where that F-I-N-E man is going in followed by another one?”

      “Yes, it’s a day spa for men.”

      “Get out.”

      “Yep, run by four women, best friends.”

      “What? Wait a minute. Is it called Pause for Men?”

      “Yeah, why?” She pressed the bell. A chime echoed gently in the background.

      “Uh, nothing. I think I heard about it somewhere.” That sounded like the same spa that Bernard had taken Nick to, she thought. She’d have to make sure, and if it was, hopefully she wouldn’t have to come to headquarters too often. That could get pretty sticky. And she certainly wasn’t about to mention anything to Savannah to give her or Jean a reason not to give her this assignment.

      The door opened. Savannah recognized Margaret, the woman the Cartel had honored the previous month for having been responsible for shutting down a senior retirement home in Brooklyn that had been abusing the seniors.

      “Hi. We’re here to see Jean.”

      “Come in. Come in. Good to see you again, Savannah,” the middle-aged Cartel member said with a warm smile. Tiny laugh lines fanned out from the corners of her blue eyes.

      “Margaret, this is Danielle Holloway.”

      Margaret stared at her for a long moment then turned to Savannah. “Looks like she has what it takes.” She winked. “It’s all in the eyes. Make yourselves comfortable a moment. I’ll let Jean know you’re here.”

      “Thanks, Margaret,” Savannah said with a light laugh.

      “That was weird,” Danielle said under her breath. “Did you see how she looked at me?”

      Savannah waved her hand in dismissal. “That’s one of the top agents. She’s been with the Cartel since the beginning, and she’s Jean’s right hand. Definitely someone you want on your side, and if she says you’ve got what it takes, then you’ve got it.”

      “If you say so,” Danielle murmured, glancing up at the twelve-foot ceiling and the incredible crystal chandelier that looked like something out of a holiday movie. She slowly strolled around the massive room and took in the decor.

      Antique furnishings dotted the enormous room. Sunshine spilled across the sparkling parquet floors from eight-foot-long windows treated with sheer white curtains billowing ever so gently from the light breeze. An oak mantle with a massive fireplace was the centerpiece of the room, reminiscent of the great party days of old Harlem.

      Margaret appeared in the doorway as silently as she’d left. “Jean is ready for you,” she said.

      She led them upstairs, turned right at the top of the landing and walked down a long hallway that was lined on either side with photographs of Cartel members. Danielle caught a glimpse of Savannah’s mother, Claudia, and just before Margaret tapped on the partially opened door, Danielle saw a picture of a smiling Savannah.

      Wow, it’s like going to the White House or somewhere prestigious and seeing the

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