Leonardo stepped out of the air-conditioned skyscraper and into the summer heat of Midtown Manhattan. His driver pulled out from a nearby garage. The car stopped, and Leo graciously opened the back door for Emma—his efficient New York assistant as well as the woman he trusted to run the office. The driver greeted him as they pulled into the traffic of West 53rd street. “I hope you enjoyed your lunch, Mr. Guerranti.” 

Leonardo answered with a quick “Yes, thank you.” He’d just spent two hours at one of New York’s famous French restaurants having a business lunch with a former head of state. 

Leonardo scrolled through his phone, deleting useless emails and flagging others to answer later. The tall buildings and endless traffic jams didn’t hold his interest. Leo kept an office in New York because Guerranti Private Security and Investigations needed to show a presence there, but one city was the same as any other to him.

“Your three PM just texted me. She changed her plans.” Emma rolled her eyes. 

“What now?” Leo massaged his temples, sensing a headache coming on. He didn’t have time for Astrid’s games. As the daughter of Crown Prince Eugen Gudmundsson, she’d been spoilt beyond belief. If the Crown Prince wasn’t his good friend as well as an important client, Leonardo would never have agreed to provide her with private security. “Did she cancel?”

“No, you wish. Photographers are waiting outside her hotel. Security will take her out the back, in disguise.”

Leonardo sank into the supple leather of his seat. It could have been worse. “Fine. Let the staff at the front desk know.”

* * * *

Talisman took a deep breath. From her position across the street, she’d watched Leonardo Guerranti step out of the back of his fancy car and enter the building ten minutes ago. He was taller than she’d expected. The casual blue linen shirt and cream-colored pants with the hems rolled up were a stark contrast with the black Bentley that dropped him off at the front door of the building. The woman with him, in her gray pantsuit and red bag, appeared a little intimidating. Tali inhaled a deep, sharp breath. The smell of cigarette smoke and car exhaust filled her lungs. It was now or never. She didn’t want to stand there for one minute longer. Leonardo Guerranti didn’t return her calls, didn’t respond to her emails, and his people refused to give her an appointment. She had to talk to him, and he’d left her few options. Tali had to get into that building, one way or another, and find Leonardo. She fixed her braid and straightened her crop top. 

Faking confidence she didn’t feel, Tali pushed her chin forward and crossed the street. She opened the building’s front door and marched straight to the front desk, as though she belonged there. Two stylish young women sat behind a massive wood-and-glass counter. One was on the phone. The other girl glanced at Tali, tilting her head to one side, as if she was an object of curiosity or something.

“Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon.” Tali cleared her throat. “I was wondering if…Well if…Is it possible for me to use a restroom?” 

“I’m sorry miss, but this is a private building. You can’t—”

“Yes, yes of course you can,” the other receptionists interrupted. “Take the elevator to the twentieth floor, then turn to your left.”

Could it be so easy? Talisman frowned. But why was the nearest bathroom on the twentieth floor? Oh well, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thank you.” She gave the woman a polite smile.

She marched to the elevator and pushed the button to go up. Tali had expected some resistance. These people hadn’t been so nice the ten or so times she’d called to make an appointment. From her vantage point, she could hear the receptionists talking among themselves. So, being naturally inquisitive, Tali listened.

“—Emma told us she’d be in disguise and to let her in.”

“But what if that’s not her?”

“Long hair, speaks with an accent, and dressed like that? That’s her. But if you want to stop her, be my guest.”

Accent? Who had an accent, Tali wondered. But just then the elevator doors opened. Tali moved aside to let several people step out. Then she rushed in and pushed the button to close the doors before the girls had time to change their minds. Now that she was in the building, she had to get through the second part of her plan—find Guerranti’s office and wait until he had no choice but listen to her.

Next stop, twentieth floor. When the doors opened, she entered a modern lobby with light gray walls, black leather armchairs, and a wooden counter against the far wall. The man behind the counter greeted Tali. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Signor Guerranti’s office is down the hall and to your left. He’ll be with you in a few minutes.” 

Clearly, they thought she was someone else. Best find his office before they realized they were making a big mistake. There were three doors at the end of the short hallway, but only one with Leonardo Guerranti’s name, so she entered that one. His office was plain by New York City standards. She closed the door and took a peek around. He had a glass desk with a large leather chair on one side of the room and two smaller chairs on the other side of the desk. Near a corner a round table with more leather chairs was situated. Both the desk and the table contained a computer and monitors.