Flyn

y white tweed suit and walked up the gray granite

rb. The rear door opened, and Hughes ste

said, stopping beside me a

e slipping my black-gloved han

ce is basic professio

s lips pressing into a thin line, though he said

VIP elevator to escort us past the public lines. Within five minutes, we were seated across from a

nced at the man beside me. Hughes had already signed his

to the paper and s

eavy steel seal onto th

s, Mr. Mitchell

the new title. Hughes sto

itchell. Time to

standing up

only needed to show

g couple who live in separate zip codes?" h

partment building. Ignoring the stares of my neighbors, Hughes byp

d gestured helplessly

n here. You can wait in

of letting my wife m

rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms. Left with no c

a professional hockey player. Every time we turned around,

arbook on the top shelf, my heel caught on the edge

ower waist, pulling me back against a solid chest. The

d, his breath brushin

I scrambled to my fe

u... I've

e turning toward the closet. I faced the bookshelf, taking a slow breat

id open, followed by the heav

n's gray-blue wool scarf and a faded Boston Bruins h

hes that I hadn't gotten a

, what a

aw set hard and the air in the

nother man's sc