Sam found a parking space near the studio to wait for Nick’s motorcade to arrive. “We’re doing the right thing confronting that reporter, right?”
“Hell yes. If nothing else, that reporter needs to be taught some basic manners. And it’ll be good for her to hear how her ignorant question was repeated back to your son in freaking middle school, which is hellish enough without that.”
“You said ‘freaking.’”
“Don’t you think this situation deserves a good ‘freaking’?”
“I do.”
“What she did is horrifying, Sam, and she deserves to be humiliated in front of her colleagues.”
“I don’t like to intentionally humiliate people, unless they’re murdering scumbags.”
“This is an exception worth making.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Anyone who isn’t an asshole would think so.”
“Wow, you’re on a tear today.”
“I love Scotty like a nephew. I hate that he heard about it and that you guys had to deal with explaining it to him.”
“I know, and thank you for loving him like a nephew. That’s sweet.”
“It’s true. I don’t have siblings. I have you and your family and Gonzo and Jeannie and the family we’ve created together.”
“I love that family.”
“I do too, and when someone comes for one of us, they come for all of us.”
A flash of light caught Sam’s attention. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the motorcade pull onto the street. Her heart gave a happy lurch at knowing she’d see Nick in a minute. “Here comes the cavalry.”
They got out of Sam’s car to wait on the sidewalk.
Brant was the first one out of Nick’s car. The handsome young agent took a good look around, nodded to Sam and Freddie and then opened the door for Nick. Other agents swarmed the area, and some went inside ahead of them. They had this down to a well-oiled routine they never deviated from, which was what kept Nick as safe as he could be under the circumstances.
And then there he was, gorgeous in a dark navy suit, a steel-blue tie and a crisp white dress shirt. His handsome face lit up with delight when he saw her waiting for him. He held out a hand to her, and Sam went to him, oblivious to anyone else.
He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “How’s my cop?”
“Frustrated and annoyed until right now.”
Smiling down at her, he said, “Why? What happened right now?”
“You happened.”
“What do you say we go make Kayla’s day?”
“I say that’s a fine idea.”
Holding hands, they walked into the building, where a shocked receptionist greeted them.
“Allow me,” Sam said. “I have a way with receptionists.”
“Have at it, babe.”
Sam showed the woman her badge. “We’d like to see Kayla Owen, please.”
“I, um, does she know you’re coming?”
“She doesn’t, and we’d prefer to surprise her. Can you make that happen?”
Rattled by Sam’s unblinking stare, the woman made a call that brought another woman to the reception desk a few seconds later.
“Please take Vice President and Mrs. Cappuano to Kayla Owen’s office,” the original woman said to the second one.
The second woman stared at them for ten full seconds before she blinked and seemed to recover herself. “Right this way.”
With the Secret Service surrounding them and Freddie somewhere in the scrum, Sam and Nick followed the woman up a flight of stairs and through frosted double doors bearing the WKLA logo. Inside, they found yet another receptionist, who stood, her mouth falling open in shock. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything to impede their progress as their guide took them around the reception desk, through another set of doors and past full-length windows behind which on-air talent watched them go by with stunned expressions.
“This is really, really wicked fun,” Sam whispered to Nick as she noticed every eye in the place fixed on them as they walked by cubicles, leaving a trail of shocked people in their wake.
“So fun and about to get more so.”
“We’re bad, bad people to be enjoying this so much.”
“Nah. We’re just pissed-off parents.”
Leave it to him to perfectly sum it up.
The woman leading them pointed to a group of offices at the end of a long corridor. “Third door on the right.”
“Thank you very much,” Nick said as they followed the two Secret Service agents leading the way.
At the doorway to Kayla Owen’s office, the agents stepped aside to allow Sam and Nick to go ahead of them.
Nick knocked on the door. “Sorry to disturb your work, Ms. Owen.”
The pretty young dark-haired reporter, her face covered in a thick layer of camera-ready makeup, looked up from