He clears his throat. “You two are partners on this. And your cover is that you’re organizing a gala in support of the First Amendment. Your firm is sponsoring it. It gives you an excuse to be very interested in book publishing.”
“You want me to plan a gala.” It’s not a question.
“The Lighthouse wants you to plan a gala.”
“You’re aware I didn’t plan my own wedding, right?”
“I am.”
“I don’t plan dinner, Hank.”
“I know.”
“I can’t … there’s”—she takes a deep breath—“this is not in my skill set.”
Leo leans over and squeezes her hand. “It’s okay. I’ll help you.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, flipping through the school materials again. Then she closes the brochure. “If we’re doing this, the kids get veto power. We present it as an opportunity, and if either of them says no, we walk.”
Leo nods. “One hundred percent. This has to be a family decision.”
Hank is unfazed. “I expect nothing less.”
Chapter Four
The SUV’s cargo hatch won’t close.
Sasha stares into the overstuffed compartment. Duffel bags. Backpacks. A case of Mocha’s prescription dog food because she doesn’t want to have to scour a new city for it. Fiona’s complete collection of Nancy Drew books, which she absolutely, positively could not leave behind despite having read them all more than once. Finn’s current LEGO creation, half-assembled and unlikely to survive the trip intact. Two skateboards. Sasha’s entire shoe collection, which she absolutely, positively could not leave behind.
“We’re spending three months in a furnished rental,” Connelly reminds her, appearing at her elbow with another bag. “Not homesteading on the frontier.”
She peeks inside. This bag is loaded with Connelly’s most beloved kitchen tools and several vacuum-sealed bags of her favorite dark roast. She’ll allow it.
“Tell that to your children.”
“Our children.”
She shoots him a look. He grins, shifts the skateboards to create a gap, wedges the bag in between her shoes and Fiona’s books, and hits the button. The hatch closes with a satisfying click.
Finn and Fiona are already buckled in, on a video call with their friends. Java meows indignantly from her carrier wedged between them. Mocha, the best traveler in the family, is curled up in the third row, next to Connelly’s gun safe, already asleep.
Sasha slides into the passenger seat and immediately pulls out her phone. Three texts from Naya, two from her mother, and one from Jordana, who’s agreed to house sit, confirming what day trash pickup is.
Connelly starts the engine. “You ready?”
“Define ready.”
He reaches over and turns off her phone.
She stares at him. “What are you?—?”
“Breathe. Drink your coffee.” He nods toward the travel mug in the cupholder. “Read your book.”
She picks up her copy of The Payback from the center console. She’s halfway through and, while she’s reading it to understand its author, she finds herself getting caught up in the fast-paced plot. She’s not so sure it transcends the genre, but it’s a compelling story. She’ll give Rye that.
From the back seat, Fiona’s voice rises with excitement. “We’re going to go to school in Foggy Bottom!” There’s a chorus of giggles at the name. Then, “With kids from all over the world.”
Finn’s response is quieter, harder to hear over the road noise. “Yeah, the robotics lab sounds cool.”
