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for someone who really wanted to do harm. There was no way to prove that anyone’s ID was legitimate.

      Her friend Danielle’s last Cartel case was a perfect example of what people could do with ID. Dani’s identity theft case even added an additional element of finding famous look-alikes who were used to gain access to parties, offices and homes with the purpose of stealing unsuspecting victims’ identities. The successful outcome was all in the news, with no mention of Danielle or the Cartel, of course.

      No matter how careful you were and no matter how many safeguards were put in place, someone, somewhere, was working to breach your defenses. The Ladies Cartel was a testament to that truth. Besides, she reasoned, if someone intended to get in and blow up a building, the logbook would be destroyed in the process. It was all quite arcane and silly in Mia’s mind, but if it offered some sense of security, she supposed it was useful.

      Mia and Ashley walked side by side to the second bank of elevators after signing in.

      Mia watched the dial of the elevator as the lights did a countdown. “I may need you to keep his executive assistant—and possibly Michael—busy,” she said without looking at Ashley.

      “Sure. No problem. Busy I can do.”

      The elevator doors slid open and deposited a half dozen people into the lobby. Mia and Ashley were the only two to get on.

      “If I say I want to use the restroom, I’m going to need you to keep everyone occupied. At least for five minutes. If we get to sit in Michael’s office, I’m going to need you to get him out of it.”

      “How?”

      “We’ll think of something.”

      The bell dinged and the doors slid open.

      “This would be so much more fun if you told me what you couldn’t tell me,” Ashley said under her breath.

      Mia tossed her a look and stepped off the elevator. The directional signs indicated that the Avante Enterprises offices were to the right. They turned toward a set of glass doors.

      A receptionist looked up at their approach. “May I help you?” Her perky voice came through the intercom embedded in the wall. Mia recognized it from the phone call. She stepped closer to the intercom.

      “Mia Turner. I have an appointment with Mr. Burke.”

      The door buzzed, along with the sound of the lock disengaging. Mia grabbed the large chrome handle and pushed the door open.

      “If you will have a seat, I’ll let Mr. Burke know you’re here.”

      “Thank you,” Mia murmured and took a seat with Ashley right next to her.

      “Nice digs,” Ashley said.

      “Hmm.” Interesting, she thought, as she took in the décor of the reception area. The colors were in sharp contrast to the house on the harbor. Here black dominated, with gray and burgundy accents. The colors and coordinating décor spoke power, style and control. All nouns easily associated with Michael Burke.

      Moments later, a woman of about thirty with a cap of silky black curls outlining a perfectly made-up face approached them. Mia instinctively knew this was Ms. Executive Assistant.

      The woman’s chocolate chip–pinstriped suit jacket hugged her narrow waist, fanned out ever so slightly to caress her hips, and the above-the-knee-length skirt showcased the legs of a dancer—long, lean, perfectly formed and strong. She seemed to instinctively know one from the other and extended her hand to Mia.

      “Ms. Turner. I’m Brenda Forde. I believe we’ve met via phone.” She directed intense honey-colored eyes at Mia, all the more disconcerting because of their lightness against her flawlessly brown skin and the fierceness that hovered in them.

      Real or contacts, Mia wondered in a comedic moment.

      “Yes. We have met, haven’t we? Always good to put a face with a voice.” She released the butter-soft hand and turned to Ashley. “This is my executive assistant and business manager, Ashley Temple.”

      Ashley extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

      Brenda gave a short nod of her head. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you settled in the small conference room. Michael...Mr. Burke is on a business call. As soon as he’s done, he’ll join us.”

      There goes that us again, Mia thought. She smiled and followed Brenda down the short hallway and was led to a room with, unfortunately, a glass door and walls.

      “Please make yourselves comfortable. Would you like something to drink while you wait?”

      “Some water for me,” Mia said.

      “Water is fine,” Ashley added.

      “I’ll be right back.” She picked up a remote from the table and pointed it at a television mounted onto the wall. The CNN studio filled the screen. “Michael likes CNN,” Brenda said with a smile that held a challenge.

      “I remember,” Mia tossed back, unable to help herself and secretly delighted in seeing Ms. Executive Assistant flinch before she walked out.

      “Meow, meow,” Ashley sang. “At least let me know when to duck out of the way of the claws. What was that about?”

      Mia quickly gave her the rundown of her earlier conversation with Brenda.

      “You think they’re seeing each other?”

      Mia gave a slight shrug. “If not, she certainly wants to. Not that it’s any of my business,” she added quickly.

      Ashley bit back a smile.

      Mia reluctantly pulled her glasses out of her purse. She took a good look around the room. The conference table took up most of the space, surrounded by eleven chairs, five on each side and one at the head. Two computer stations braced one wall. With her growing knowledge of electronics and technology, she noted that there were microphones built into the table, which let her know that conversations here were recorded. The wall panel that controlled the television also controlled the screen that could be lowered from the ceiling. She was pretty sure it included teleconferencing, which would account for the video camera in the back of the room.

      Her instincts told her this room was used for meetings much more sensitive than who would be the next R & B star, which gave her even more reason to want to tap it. What solidified her resolve was the camera that she’d spotted hidden between the panels on the wall. It was no bigger than a quarter and to those who were none the wiser it looked like an imperfection in the wall. A hidden camera would certainly limit what she could get away with in this room. The ideal situation would be to find Avante’s control room.

      Mia glanced toward the door. Brenda and Michael were coming in. Mia couldn’t miss the adoring look that Brenda gave Michael as he held the door open for her. Mia took off her glasses and returned them to her purse.

      Ashley stole a look in Mia’s direction as the doors swung open.

      “Mia.” Michael came right to her, braced her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Had to bring backup, huh,” he teased, whispering in her ear. He stepped back and looked her in the eye, as if she was the only person in the room.

      Mia swallowed over the tightness in her throat. The intoxicating scent of him momentarily clouded her thoughts. “Michael, my executive assistant, Ashley Temple.”

      “My pleasure, Ms. Temple,” he said, finally focusing on something other than Mia. He shook Ashley’s hand, then turned back to Mia. “Would you prefer to talk here or over lunch?”

      “Here is fine. Ashley has prepared a PowerPoint presentation for our proposal. Then we can have lunch. If that works for you.” She smiled sweetly.

      “Not a problem.”

      Ashley took the printed copies out of the leather folder she carried, along with the CD of the presentation. She handed out the literature.

      Mia’s

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