Chapter Seven
Back in DC, things fell quickly into routine—Jim’s old routine.
With the intensity and intimacy of New York behind them, there was a distance in the present. Reese was the “golden one” from the moment they’d reentered Secret Service headquarters in DC. Lauded by everyone, he could see it eating at her. She disappeared in more ways than one.
She hadn’t answered her cell phone when he tried it.
His text asking if she wanted to catch dinner—which he’d thought was fairly harmless—had received a two-word reply: Need time.
Now, a week later, Jim couldn’t decide if he was as feeble as a glue horse for not pursuing her when she’d first tried to shut him out. What guy on the planet wanted to face the definitive “no” from a woman? “No” sucked. He had certainly received his share o
