One of the perks of her new job was that she had transportation to and from work, so she knew that the car and her driver would be waiting for her. If she was lucky, she'd make the breakfast meeting right on schedule. And then the day would take off like a rocket. Well, she was ready to fly.

As she rode down in the elevator, Maggie found herself thinking about Ted and how they'd stepped back into their old ways with hardly a misstep. Until Ted confessed to knowing she was one of the vigilantes. Was her secret safe with him? She wanted desperately to believe it was. But if it wasn't. . .

The elevator door swished open. Maggie marched across the tiled lobby and sailed through the revolving doors. Her car was double-parked. The driver had the door open within seconds, and she was inside in a heartbeat.

Daniel West had the car in gear the moment he said, "Good morning, Miss Spritzer. Where to?"

"Good morning to you, too, Daniel. Take me to Finnegan's Cafe. I have an early breakfast meeting."

"Lots of traffic this morning. Might take us an extra ten minutes. You might want to consider calling your breakfast companion, and it wouldn't surprise me if he or she is going to be late, too. The town is busy this morning with the presidential debates. Do you still think Martine Connor is going to land the highest office in the land?"

"You know it. She's running way ahead in the polls. No one can touch her, and the country is really ready for the first female president. She's a shoo-in."

The driver laughed. "Thanks to the Post's support. That was a really good article in this morning's paper about Connor and her dog. Great human interest. My wife reads every word about Connor. She says she's for the people. Robinson writes a great article."

Maggie felt like preening. "He's a terrific reporter. You know what else, Daniel, Robinson is a great guy in person." Oh, God, did she really say that?

"I guess he is to write a piece like that with so much heart."

Fifteen minutes later he said, "I hate to say this, but there's a bottleneck up ahead. If you get out here, you'll get to the cafe before I will. It's just a block. Are you okay with that, Miss Spritzer?"

Maggie looked down at the hated high heels. "Sure, Daniel, no problem. Pick me up in front of the cafe in forty-five minutes. Then I'll see you tonight unless I call you."

"Okay, Miss Spritzer."

Maggie started off at a brisk walk. God, how she hated these damn heels, with the pointy toes. By the time she walked all the way to the restaurant, she'd either have blisters or corns. A second later the heels were in her hands and she was sprinting toward the cafe.