Seated at his high platform desk, Officer Dewberry looked anxious. His gaze went from one man to the other, then to Lizzie and Ted and what was happening in his station.

"He looks like a goddamn tank," Ted mumbled under his breath.

Lizzie ignored him as she waltzed up to the platform and tilted her head to the side as though to say, I'm here, what's our delay? What she said was, "I'm here to pick up my client. I said ninety minutes, Officer Dewberry. I didn't mean 120. Time is money."

A husky voice from behind her said, "You're late, Counselor, we've all been waiting quite patiently."

The cadence in the big man's tone was almost hypnotizing. At least Ted thought so. The lanky man standing next to him cleared his throat, but he didn't say a word.

Ted saw everything in slow motion as Lizzie turned, the skirt separating to reveal her shapely thigh. And then time stood still as Lizzie gazed intently on the man standing in front of her. To Ted's eye she looked like a beautiful Greek goddess—maybe Nemesis, a goddess of vengeance. Cosmo Cricket stood frozen in his boat-sized footwear, his mouth open, but no words were coming out.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Ted's fingers hit the keys on his BlackBerry, not knowing if they were the right ones or not. Maggie would have to figure it out. He watched as Lizzie's come-hither eyelashes danced. Cosmo Cricket closed his mouth. And then the goddess spoke.

"When one is having lunch with the leaders of the free world, one does not rush."

Ted pounded the keys. He felt like he was at a tennis match.

Cosmo Cricket stared at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Everything he'd heard about the Silver Fox appeared to be true. He tried to take a deep breath but couldn't. For the first time in his long, illustrious career, he was totally speechless. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might be falling in love. The man standing next to him cleared his throat again. Cosmo's canoes shuffled as his hand moved in greeting.

Every nerve ending in Lizzie Fox's body twanged as she stared at the ugly man. His broad face looked like a slab of concrete full of cracks and craters. A honker for a nose more or less dominated the chiseled chin, with its dimple in the middle. But it was his ears, shaped like minipancakes, that drew her attention. He was so ugly he was beautiful. She looked down at hands that were bigger than catchers' mitts. Everything about him was custom-crafted—from his suit to his extralong tie, to his shirt, big as a tent, and the shoes. No way could this man buy off the rack. Ted was right, the man was as big as a tank.