“Okay, gentlemen, you’re free to go. What, you don’t want to leave now?” Sam demanded, outrage ringing in her voice. She pressed the remote on the wall and opened the overhead garage door. “Push them outside, ladies!”

As soon as the men were outside, Sam slammed the button that sent the garage door crashing to the concrete. She dusted her hands dramatically as she led the way back into the house. “I’ll get rid of their clothes tomorrow and hose down the garage. So much for dumb, stupid women!”

The women high-fived each other as they cleaned up the dinner table.

An hour later, Sam and Slick headed for the second floor, the doors locked, the security system armed.

“Sleep tight, Sam!”

“You, too, Slick!”

Sam brushed her teeth and was in bed within seconds. She closed her eyes and was asleep instantly. She knew there would be no dreams or nightmares about Douglas Cosmo Rainford, III.

Chapter Four

It was a perfect July day, warm, sunny, with a blue sky full of cotton-candy clouds. Sam couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like in the North Carolina mountains. Would the sky look the same, would the air be cleaner and fresher. Of course it would. She held her face up to the sun, relishing the warmth. She felt cold, possibly from apprehension. She struggled to shift her emotions into the neutral zone as she watched her colleagues chattering like magpies in the small private waiting room at Dulles. She knew they were viewing the future as some grand adventure. In her own mind she wasn’t sure how she saw it.

A smile tugged at the corners of Sam’s mouth as she looked at the outfits the women were wearing. Slick, always the model, was dressed in a long, silk sheath printed with colorful flowers. Her hair was slicked back, the ends just long enough to lick her neck. Kayla wore lime-colored capris with a matching cropped top that showed off her pierced belly button. Olivia wore skinny jeans that looked like they were painted on and a tank top so tight across her chestthat her breasts looked like a bridge. Zoe wore a mini sundress with spaghetti straps and no bra. She herself wore a khaki pant suit with a white tee underneath. Miss Preppy herself, Miss Girl Scout Leader. Suddenly, she felt stupid. The feeling lasted all of five seconds when she saw a woman striding toward them.

Their contact. Sam sucked in her breath.

She was tall, shapely. She looked like she’d just stepped from some boardroom. Her hair was glossy brown and arranged into a pristine knot at the back of her head. She wore sensible, professional-looking heels with a lightweight powder blue suit. She also looked extremely efficient, with a sharp, keen gaze that seemed to take in everything all at once.

“Ms. Rainford?”