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Warmly,
Jessica
We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.
—2 Corinthians 4:8–9
For my brother Jared. Remember that time we tied a rope to the tail of our sister’s stuffed cat and the railing on the second floor, then swung across the stairs? We fell. That inspired a scene in this book. Love you, little bro.
Special thanks to my agent Rachel Kent, my editor Shana Asaro; Susan Tuttle, you’re a brainstorming rock star; Jodie Bailey, you got me unstuck with one simple idea; Tiffany Capps for medical information (anything I stretched for fiction is on me!); and to “Mr. Anonymous” for helping me with a few Secret Service facts.
Contents
“Do you ever feel like sometimes the sunshine is deceiving because the day is going to be ominous regardless of how bright it is?” Jody Gallagher tapped her finger on the side of her Covenant Crisis Management coffee mug while her best friend and CCM’s on-site psychologist, Cosette LaCroix, turned from the coffeepot, and her full lips—as red as the male cardinals outside—reminded Jody of a luscious makeup commercial.
“Is that how you feel?”
Jody should have known she’d get doctor-talk. Was that how she felt? A warm outer appearance, but cold inside? Maybe. She knew how to put up a good front. One could only whine and mourn over loss for so long before loved ones traded in supportiveness for speeches about moving on. Of course, said loved ones hadn’t watched their dreams burn to ash right in front of their eyes. In front of millions of eyes. She rubbed her temples. “I guess I’m dreading the day.”
“At least he called and gave you fair warning he was coming.” Cosette never said anything negative about the man Jody once loved—the man who’d single-handedly wrecked her dreams of someday becoming the youngest female Secret Service director. Dreams she’d birthed through spending time with her great-grandfather. She missed Granddaddy Flynn.
Jody-girl, one day you can be sitting right here in my chair. Doesn’t have to be Wilder or any other boy. It can be you. I think it should be, darlin’. You can do anything you want. And if you want it, work for it. Do it. Achieve it.
She should have known better than to fall for a man who played hard—too hard. Especially after what she’d witnessed in Afghanistan. But she’d fallen for him. And he’d betrayed her. She’d been fired. Humiliated. Her reputation stained. Thankfully, Granddaddy Flynn hadn’t lived to see that.
“Yeah, that was a bullet to the chest without any Kevlar kind of moment.” To hear Evan Novak’s voice after three years. She’d instantly recognized it—soft, smooth. Not a drop of grit until he laughed. He’d called to let her know he’d be in Atlanta today on protection detail for Senator Townes, who was campaigning for the primary election this coming November. A conservative in the South. Jody didn’t expect trouble, but this morning she’d woken with a ball of tar coating her gut and it had spread since she’d rolled
