The Proposal
Friday, September 14
Boston, Massachusetts
Jules Cassidy was nervous.
After years of working for the FBI, nervous didn't happen to Jules very often anymore. At least not in a situation with nary a hostile gunman, armed terrorist, angry insurgent or crazed hostage taker in sight.
As Jules effortlessly caught a taxi at Boston's Logan Airport, as he settled back in his seat for the stunningly traffic free ride to the downtown hotel, as the relentless, week long autumn drizzle that had plagued the entire east coast from Virginia to Maine finally stopped and the clouds opened in a late afternoon blast of sunlight suitable for accompaniment by a full choir of angels, he had to smile.
His entire impromptu trip north from Washington , D.C. had been a piece of cake – chocolate and practically dripping with strawberry flavored easy.
Sign from God, a ...
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