Power Switch (Power Play #3) - Kennedy L. Mitchell Page 0,6

head to keep it from exploding.

His massive shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “All I'm saying is her shock might not be from his title. Just a feeling I got.”

“Shit,” I exclaim, leaning forward and pressing my elbows to the counter.

Silence falls between us as I process everything he’s dumped on me. One part bothers me the most.

“Sexier than me?” I question. I know I should be worried about why the AAG is snooping around more than his looks, but I’m not.

Spatula in the air, he leans against the corner of the counter and motions for me to stand. No idea why, but I do without question.

He twirls the spatula. I follow the movement, holding on to the counter for support as the room spins with me.

“Neither of you is my type, but I'd say you have a run for your money with the AAG. Add in the fact that he's an attorney, like her, and he has a few more points on his side.”

“But she loves me,” I state. “I think.” My jaw drops as a scene from last night flashes through my still somewhat fuzzy memory. “Shit.” I sink back onto the stool and stare at the white marble. “She wanted to tell me something last night. That's why I said I'd come over.”

“You didn't go over last night,” Tank states.

“I know. I didn't want to go over that late and drunk. I forgot she had something to tell me.” With a curse, I shove off the stool to pace the expansive kitchen. “Fuck, this is worse than I thought when I first woke up. I thought I'd just disappointed her by not showing up when I said I would, but now she probably thinks I'm avoiding her or didn't want to hear what she had to say. Or—”

“Get your head out of your ass, Benson. This is bigger than that. Did you hear me? The associate attorney general demanded a meeting with her. Today. Something big is about to drop, and we have no fucking clue what that entails.”

“Her meeting with the Russians?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe it has something to do with Birmingham.”

“Possible. But why approach her if that’s the case?”

“Shit.”

“My thoughts exactly, which is why I'm here so damn early on our day off getting ready to eat through my stress with two pounds of bacon.”

I arch a brow. “There's another pound in the freezer.”

“Fine, three pounds of bacon.”

“When's the meeting?” Pausing in front of the Nespresso machine, I pop a pod into the dispenser with one hand while swiping a mug off the exposed shelf with the other. After hitting the brew button, I turn to face Tank, who's busy placing several crispy slices of cooked bacon on a plate. “You said today.”

“This afternoon. He's coming by the house around three.”

“We need to be there for her.” And I want a good look at this guy.

“It's our day off,” Tank states like I could’ve forgotten as he shoves three pieces of hot blackened bacon into his mouth. “What excuse would we have for showing up and sitting in on her meeting? We’re her friends, yes, but not everyone is good with the notion that she tells us everything. We know we’d never use it against her, but others don’t.”

The gurgle of the bubbling water pulls my attention to the brewing coffee. Focused on the dark streaming liquid, I shuffle through the options. I hate to admit it, but he's right. We don't need to draw attention to our friendship with Randi. Who knows? The fuckers might take us off her protection detail just to be assholes.

But I can’t not be there.

“Call in a favor to the beta team lead, Chaz. He owes you, I’m sure.” Before the last drip reaches the foam, I pull the mug up to my lips and take a scalding sip of the steaming liquid. Hopefully this will help clear my head. “Tell him we want to sub in for two of his agents for a few hours today. That way we’ll have a legit excuse to be there, nothing suspicious.”

Excuse or not, I'll be at that meeting.

I cringe behind the coffee mug.

Even if Randi might be pissed as hell and not want me there.

The wooden front porch step creaks under my dress shoe as I travel up the short set of stairs toward the front door. The unknown of the next few hours rakes at my nerves. A thin sheen of sweat dampens my palms and shines across my forehead. It’s hot

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