With single-minded intent, I headed for the kitchen. My car was in the garage, and though my shoulder bag and wallet were upstairs, my keys were likely in the ignition where I’d left them. There was no way I was going up into that room where they were suffused with joy. Not now. Not when I was like this: numb, confused, and mentally slapped by Trent, scorned for not having realized the truth before now. I felt stupid. It had been in front of me all the time, and I hadn’t realized it.

The kitchen was a blur, the lights dim and the ovens cold. I hit the heavy service entrance at a run, and the metal door crashed into the wall. Two big guys in tuxes jumped up from the curb at my sudden appearance. Ignoring them, I jogged into the underground lot in search of my car. The cold pavement soaked into me through my socks.

“Miss!” one shouted. “Miss, hold up a moment. I need to talk to you.”

“Like hell you do,” I muttered, then spotted Trent’s car. Mine was nowhere I could see. I didn’t have time for this. I’d take his. Angling to it, I broke into a run.

“Ma’am!” he tried again, his voice dropping in pitch. “I need to know who you are and your clearance. Turn around!”

Clearance? I didn’t need no lousy clearance. I jerked the handle up, and the cheerful dinging told me the keys were in the ignition.

“Ma’am!” came an aggressive shout. “I can’t let you leave without knowing who you are!”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out!” I shouted, cursing myself when I realized I was crying. Damn it, what was wrong with me? Distressed beyond all belief, I slid into the supple leather seat. The engine turned over with a low rumble that spoke of a slumbering power: gas and pistons, a perfect machine. Slamming the door, I put it into drive and floored it. The tires squealed as I jerked forward and took the turn too fast. A square of light beckoned. If they wanted to know who I was, they could ask Trent.

Sniffing, I looked behind me. The big guy had his gun out, but it was aimed at the pavement as the second officer on the two-way relayed orders to him. Either Trent had told them to let me go, or they were going to stop me at the front gate.

I hit the ramp fast, and the undercarriage scraped as I bounced out into the sun. My breath caught in a sob as I wiped my cheeks. I didn’t make the next turn properly, and I felt a moment of panic when I drove off the pavement and blasted the DO NOT ENTER sign.