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visualizing it. Was that because he was about to enter an unknown building with unfamiliar elevators and strangers within inches of him? Perhaps.
    Or maybe it was the unpredictable woman herself. For the first time in a long time, he would not be in control of every detail around him. It was both exciting and terrifying.
    He shook his head. Billions of people could walk into a strange building without thinking twice. He was being ridiculous. If Jamie perceived any nervousness or weakness, she could gain an advantage. Especially on her home turf.
    As they turned onto Franklin Street, Daniel couldn’t believe his eyes. Three TV news vans, bristling with antennae and satellite dishes, were parked at odd angles in front of the Harris County Criminal Justice Center. Reporters with microphones and cameramen and -women crawled the sidewalks and steps to the contemporary skyscraper, along with a crowd of at least a hundred curious onlookers.
    The limo pulled to a stop, and lots of heads turned to gawk. Cameras swiveled in Daniel’s direction.
    “What the hell…?” If Jamie had engineered this welcome wagon, he would wring her neck. Hadn’t he emphasized how important privacy and discretion were? Had she done this to deliberately sabotage his efforts?
    “Any idea what’s going on?” Randall asked.
    “None.” He quickly dialed in the internet on his phone and checked the local headlines. “Ah. Judge John Harlow was caught in the backseat of his car with a fifteen-year-old. Story broke this morning.”
    “You can’t get out here,” Randall said firmly. “If the press gets wind that you’re out and about, it’ll ruin any chance you have of conducting normal business.”
    “Is it really a front-page story? I mean, come on.”
    “Yes, Daniel. You driving downtown to meet with a prosecutor about Christopher Gables would be front-page material.”
    Daniel thought he had a pretty good grip on the media and their opinion of him. After all, he watched every news channel all day in his office. Did he have a blind spot where he, personally, was concerned?
    More important, what was he going to do now? He wished he’d brought Jillian. She could contact Jamie, smooth things over, reschedule the meeting—
    Hell, what was he thinking? He could call Jamie himself. He had the fanciest cell phone on the planet, which Jillian programmed with any number he might need.
    Moments later he was dialing Jamie’s direct number, and a rush of sweet anticipation coursed through him as he waited for her to answer.

    J AMIE WAS AS PREPARED for her meeting with Daniel Logan as she could be. She had reserved the conference room, and had even sprung for a snack tray from the deli around the corner out of her own pocket. Daniel had fed her lavishly, so she felt obligated to at least see that he didn’t go hungry while on her turf.
    Frankly, she was surprised—and flush with inappropriate pleasure—that he had agreed to her terms. As she assembled her stack of papers she intended to present, she couldn’t deny a certain eagerness. But behind it was a dark cloud of impending doom she couldn’t shake.
    If Daniel succeeded in his quest, her job was in danger. Certainly her chances of rising to any level of prominence in the district attorney’s office would be quashed. Winston Chubb had been livid when she’d told him what Daniel Logan was up to. Though he feared the man, Chubb had instructed her to neutralize Logan and his do-gooder efforts using any means at her disposal.
    Any means.
    As she returned to her desk to check messages one last time before the meeting, the phone rang. The number on caller ID was blocked and she considered letting it go to voice mail. But at the last minute she picked it up. If it was Daniel, telling her he was delayed, she would politely remind him she couldn’t rearrange her schedule—just as he’d done to her.
    “McNair.” Her voice came out a bit sharper than she’d intended.
    “It’s Daniel. I’m in