The Evasion Read Free

their sometimes harsh personalities. For them, twisted as it was, their aggressiveness doubled as foreplay.
    Really excellent foreplay.
    Tom cleared his throat. “You good?”
    Wake up, dumbass . Gabe headed for the door. “I’m good. I’ll keep you posted on the hit.”

 
    Chapter Two
     
    “The mayor already has concerns about your safety,” Bev Richards said via Jo’s office speakerphone. “What will this trip to South Carolina do for us?”
    Jo sat back in her desk chair, crossed her legs and prepared for the verbal sparring she was so good at. From the minute Bev had answered her call, Jo knew she’d be in for a fight.
    “What it will do is help locate Martinson, a man who is ripping off my client. Four million dollars, Bev. That’s what Barelli estimates they lose in New York alone.” Jo stopped and took a breath. Easy, girl . “How about we compromise?”
    “How?”
    “Let’s call the local P.D. down there and I can work with them on locating Martinson. Even if he’s laying low and not selling any knockoffs, he’s still wanted in New York. All they need to do is get him in custody and we can ship him back up here. It’s the perfect plan. And if we can get him wrapped up in a nice little bow, the mayor will be a hero to high-end manufacturers everywhere. He’ll be King of Anti-Counterfeiting and you’ll be his queen.”
    Bev snorted. At fifty-eight, she’d spent her entire life in Manhattan. She wouldn’t be played unless she wanted to be. “I have no interest in being queen. My interest is for my boss to not yell at me. And if I’m not mistaken, he gave you strict orders to stay out of the action.”
    “Hang on. That was specifically regarding going with Gabe’s team on hits. This isn’t a hit. It’s a fishing expedition. And I hear fishing is awesome in South Carolina.”
    On her end of the line, Jo grinned. That fishing line was a winner. She knew it. Felt it in the pit of her stomach. This was why she loved being an attorney. Who said intellectual property law wasn’t exciting? In a few hours she’d be jetting south to hunt down a smuggler. When she found him, it would get her one step closer to achieving her dream of a national anti-counterfeiting task force. Te-he . Every major port in the U.S. should have the same model as the one in New York. And she’d make sure it happened.
    Bev sighed. “You’ll stay out of trouble?”
    Victory . “Yes.”
    “Promise me. Because if something goes wrong, I’m telling the mayor you went rogue. Don’t think I won’t do it.”
    Jo held up three fingers. Not that Bev could see, but hey, it was the effort that counted. “I promise. I’ll stick with law enforcement down there. You may not believe me, but I did learn my lesson after the broken hand and the fire. I’ll be careful. I’ll stay at the damned P.D. all day so they can watch me.”
    Maybe .
    “Jesus,” Bev said. “Mr. August is gonna go apeshit.”
    Jo laughed. They’d originally given Gabe his moniker and if Bev had a clue about Jo wrapping herself around all that male perfection, she hadn’t let on. Unprofessional? Absolutely. But months before Jo and Gabe started their affair, Bev and Jo had secretly commented on the level of hotness contained in that six-foot-three package. To suddenly stop that banter would raise questions and Jo wasn’t ready for that.
    “I’ll take care of Mr. August. I’m not afraid of him.”
    Not much anyway.
    —:—
    Two hours later, Jo stepped out of the lobby doors of her office building into the biting cold of a January day. She stopped on the sidewalk and smiled—not hard to do—at the man leaning against his unmarked NYPD cruiser. None other than Mr. August, dressed in his tactical uniform—navy cargo pants, honking big gun strapped to his thigh and a heavyweight NYPD jacket. The jacket alone should have alarmed her. The man was a self-proclaimed furnace who never wore anything heavier than a windbreaker.
    In the back of her mind,