Now, as the elevator stopped on the penthouse floor, she realized that the world for which she had felt ready had changed abruptly. She would no longer be working in a prime office tower, with leather furniture and sleek modern art. She would no longer have the breathtaking view of Halifax Harbour, or of Georges Island marking the Narrows, or of the fir-dusted McNabs Island with the lighthouse on the tip.

She would no longer have the security of a top-notch firm behind her.

But how secure was it? Every few months, the firm seemed to vacillate in whether it loved her or hated her. After being away for a month, she realized that she had never felt comfortable in the aura of prestige that McGrath Woods emanated.

She strode out of the elevators.

It’s time to roll out Kate Version 2.0.

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

8:26 a.m.

“Are you all right, Harry?”

No, I am not all right. And I doubt I will ever be ‘all right’ again.

“I couldn’t believe the news this morning.” His publicist ignored his lack of response. “You should have called me. I can’t keep the media on hold for much longer. You need to issue a statement.”

Harry stared through his hotel window at the Halifax Harbour. The ferry frothed the deep blue of the water into a playful wake. On the open top deck, commuters enjoyed the sun and fresh air. The scene had an in-your-face cheeriness to it that made his head pound. “I’m sorry, Sophie. It was four-thirty in the morning before I even left my parents’ house. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“It’s my job to deflect the media for you, Harry.” Her voice was tight.

“What difference does it make whether I called you in the middle of the night or not?”

There was a small hesitation, a tiny hitch in her breathing that made his gut clench. “Oh, God. Don’t tell me you said something to them.” He spun away from the window, reached for the remote and turned on the news.

His story was running. Of course, it would be. But he was not expecting the headline. “Jesus Christ, Sophie! Have you seen how they’ve spun it?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what had happened. A reporter just called me and told me she was running a story on the government’s position on self-defense. She asked me to confirm a quote. So I did.” Her voice rose a notch. “You should have called me, Harry. I didn’t know.”

His breath came out in a low, weary sigh. “No. You did not know.” He sank onto the hotel bed. “I should have called you.” He repeated the words, his tone defeated, as he watched the headline scroll across the bottom of his television screen. MP Harry Owen: “I believe my property is sacred. Shoot first, ask questions later.”

Could this day get any worse?