Chapter Ten

The attractive stranger stood gracefully, a fitted pinstripe suit accenting her tall frame. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her stylish square glasses accentuating her jaw line. The door swung on its hinges behind me as I forgot to close it. The suitcase clattered to the floor and I stood there facing at the official looking woman in my living room.

“Who are you? How did you get in here? And what the hell is going on?” I wanted to scream. I wanted to run into my bedroom and lock the door. I was jet lagged and travel weary, and my head was still spinning from the airport; a stranger in my locked apartment was not something I wanted to deal with right now.

“My name is Rachel Weber. I’m Jack Saunders’ personal assistant. Your landlord, Mrs. Jenkins, let me in. She was very nice, though very eager to tell me she would call the police if there was any trouble. What ‘the hell’ is going on is that I am here to bring you to New York.” She said it as though it were all very s