“I’m sure you do. But you guys really need to use your office instead of mine. I just sorted those invoices.”
They turned. Greta, with arms crossed and eyes twinkling, stood propped in the doorway. Gaby had a moment of déjà vu. Somehow, they always found her office.
“Sorry, Greta,” Rhys said, looking at the papers littering the floor.
They both bent to collect them.
“I’ve got it,” she said, waving them off. “I saw Leland pacing the hall, and Dev called me twice looking for you.”
Rhys took Gaby’s hand and pulled her out into the hall. Before they turned the corner toward the conference room, he glanced down at her. “Ready?” he asked.
She reached up and straightened his collar. Now, precise as always, as if nothing had happened.
“Ready.”
***
The team reconvened in exactly twenty minutes.
Leland was already there. He hadn’t gone far. Enough to reset, but not enough to quiet everything turning over in his head.
When Gaby walked in, her hair was the way she always wore it: neat and professional, but a few curls had slipped free of the pins. Not wild but noticeable. And every man in the room, trained to be observant, did.
Rhys followed a step behind, shirt and trousers crisp, expression unreadable. Nothing unusual, except for the faint smear of pink along his jaw.
Leland needed nothing spelled out. Dev didn’t comment. Alec tipped his chin up slightly, eyes lifting to the ceiling as ifhe’d seen this exact sequence play out before. Callan took a slow sip of coffee, hiding his smile behind his cup.
Mateo didn’t bother with subtlety. “Well, I guess that settles it. Gaby’s going in undercover.”
There were a few chuckles before Dev’s voice cut clean through the room. “Let’s focus.”
For a fraction of a second, Rhys and Gaby looked at each other. Their shared smile happened so fast, anyone not watching would have missed it. Then it was gone. It was the ease of two people who trusted each other completely.
Leland allowed himself to imagine what that might feel like, for just a second before he buried it where everything else went.
Alec pushed off from the table. “Callan. Bring up the Miami Beach club.”
The screen came alive with blueprints and stills of the Driftwood’s interior.
“Here’s how this works,” Alec said. “Gaby goes in, new to the scene. Quiet. Alone. She doesn’t know all the rules yet, but she’s curious. Watching more than participating.”
“She’ll need to get noticed,” Mateo said.
“She will,” Rhys cut in. “I’m going in too.” His tone allowed no room for debate. “I’ll be unattached and observing,” he continued. “Someone who looks like he’s evaluating the club. That won’t raise suspicion.”
Alec nodded. “And gives you the freedom to intervene.”
“I’ll be close enough to step in if she needs it.”
“Right,” Alec continued, plotting as he moved around the room. “Later, if he doesn’t approach naturally, you can create competition, which might draw the unsub out.”
Gaby nodded. “That should work. I’ll be approachable but not openly inviting.”
Beside her, Rhys said nothing.
Leland watched his friend. Outwardly calm and controlled. Inside, hating every part of the plan. His only visible reaction, his hand curling into a fist on the table. He’d do it for the mission, but he’d break rules, and heads, if it kept her safe.
With that settled, Dev moved on. “Communication?”
