He shrugs. “I had some good advice early on that I believe has helped me tremendously.”
I take a deep breath and ask, “Can I speak to you a moment in private?”
One of his aides has materialized next to him. “I’m sorry, but Governor Marshall has a tight schedule. He’s due to speak at a luncheon in just a few minutes.” She has a hand on his arm and is trying to pull him away, but he stops her.
“Margaret, it’s fine. I have a few minutes.”
I gesture to the coffee shop and he follows me back to the table I saved. Once we’re both sitting, he asks, “Are you in trouble? Is that why you’re here?”
I give him a tentative smile. “Maybe a little. I’m okay. For now.”
Andrew leans forward, his elbows resting on the table, his voice dropping to an almost whisper. “I owe you and we both know it. What can I do to help?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I’m not ready to call that favor in yet, just needed to make sure it’s still on the table and you’re still willing to give it.”
We stare at each other while he tries to read me, but I’m giving nothing away. “If it is in my power to help you, I will.”
I nod, knowing this is the best I’m going to get from squeaky-clean Andrew Marshall. “That’s what I needed to hear. And now enough about me and my problems. How are you?”
He leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m good. Balancing the job and the reelection campaign, so it’s a busy time. But I have to ask, Mia, are you good? Happy?”
God, if he only knew. “A few rocky spots left to smooth out, but I’m getting close.”
This gets me a smile finally, although it’s smaller than I wish it was. He glances at his watch, signaling our time is up.
“You need to go,” I say, making it easier for him to leave.
Andrew stands up and pulls a card out of his pocket, then hands it to me. I study it while he says, “My private cell. Just let me know what I need to do.”
And then he’s gone.
I drop back down in my seat and watch him walk away. Holding the card in front of me, I read it over again.
A loud screech pulls my attention from the card, and it lands on the man dragging out the chair Andrew just vacated. It’s George, but instead of the UPS uniform, he’s dressed in a dark suit.
He drops down in the chair, catching the flicker of surprise that washes across my face before I hide it away.
“You look good in a suit.”
He smiles and says, “You’re supposed to be in Atlanta.”
“I’m working my way there. Needed to make a couple of stops first,” I answer.
“What are you doing?” he asks in a soft voice. His concern for me is apparent. “You’re playing with fire. Andrew Marshall won’t do anything that gets his hands dirty, we both know that.”
My eyes never leave George’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just passing through town and thought it would be nice to catch up with a few old friends.”
He frowns. “You can lie to everyone else, but don’t lie to me. Not after all this time.”
“Then you don’t ask me questions you know I can’t answer.”
George rubs a hand across his mouth then says, “Mr. Smith thinks you need a bit more incentive.”
I let out a loud, frustrated breath. “You going to send the detectives another picture of me on a public street?”
“Not me,” he says. “I’m just the messenger. The next set of images will make it increasingly hard to get you out of trouble. He’s not playing around.”
I nod slowly, considering his words. “Any other messages you need to deliver?”
