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At Any Cost

At Any Cost

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Published by Diversion Books
Fallon Hughes is like any young attorney suffering through her first year in a white-shoe Washington, D.C. firm: overworked, exhausted, and lacking a social life.

She’s also the daughter of the President-Elect of the United States.

Tom Bishop is the Secret Service agent assigned to protect her. After losing his wife on 9/11, he is not prepared to find himself attracted to the sexy, smart protectee. The ethics questions alone are explosive and despite the red-hot tension between them, he will not risk his career or Fallon’s reputation on a tryst that he is sure they will both regret.

When Fallon receives a phone call from a frantic young man who tells her he has information regarding a grave national security threat she agrees to meet him, but he never arrives. The next morning, she hears on the news that he jumped off the roof of a building and killed himself.

Fallon suspects Antoine Campbell did not commit suicide and launches an investigation. Despite a growing sense of paranoia, Fallon is determined to prove Campbell was murdered. At first, Tom tries to dissuade Fallon from becoming involved, but as it becomes obvious this is a murder case, Tom and Fallon must expose the conspiracy in her father’s administration before Fallon meets the same fate. And with the tension already sky-high between them, working this close together is surely going to get one of them to cross the line from a strictly professional relationship to intimately personal.

Set against the backdrop of Washington, DC, At Any Cost sets up a smoldering romance as it takes readers into the super-secret world of the Secret Service, the NSA, and ultimately the most private reaches of the White House.
Fallon Hughes is like any young attorney suffering through her first year in a white-shoe Washington, D.C. firm: overworked, exhausted, and lacking a social life.

She’s also the daughter of the President-Elect of the United States.

Tom Bishop is the Secret Service agent assigned to protect her. After losing his wife on 9/11, he is not prepared to find himself attracted to the sexy, smart protectee. The ethics questions alone are explosive and despite the red-hot tension between them, he will not risk his career or Fallon’s reputation on a tryst that he is sure they will both regret.

When Fallon receives a phone call from a frantic young man who tells her he has information regarding a grave national security threat she agrees to meet him, but he never arrives. The next morning, she hears on the news that he jumped off the roof of a building and killed himself.

Fallon suspects Antoine Campbell did not commit suicide and launches an investigation. Despite a growing sense of paranoia, Fallon is determined to prove Campbell was murdered. At first, Tom tries to dissuade Fallon from becoming involved, but as it becomes obvious this is a murder case, Tom and Fallon must expose the conspiracy in her father’s administration before Fallon meets the same fate. And with the tension already sky-high between them, working this close together is surely going to get one of them to cross the line from a strictly professional relationship to intimately personal.

Set against the backdrop of Washington, DC, At Any Cost sets up a smoldering romance as it takes readers into the super-secret world of the Secret Service, the NSA, and ultimately the most private reaches of the White House.

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Published by: Diversion Books on Jul 11, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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Diversion BooksA Division of Diversion Publishing Corp.443 Park Avenue South, Suite 1004New York, New York 10016www.DiversionBooks.comCopyright © 2012 by Catherine MeredithAll rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in anyform whatsoever.For more information, email info@diversionbooks.com.First Diversion Books edition May 2013ISBN: 978-1-626810-66-2
 
 
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The law office of Johnson Sloan Pruitt occupied three floors in an elegant steel and glasstemple on G Street in the center of the District of Columbia. The sleek décor and furnishingswere modern to the point of minimalist, allowing the astonishing view from the massive fanwindows speak for itself. A postcard-perfect view of the White House reminded clients—asif they needed reminding—of the firm’s literal and metaphorical proximity to power. As oldas the Constitution itself, with alumni attorneys who had gone on to the Supreme Court, theAttorney General’s office, and various other outposts of power, Johnson Sloan Pruitt wasamong the most prestigious and best-connected white-shoe law firms in the District of Columbia.The young, attractive associates who populated the hushed and storied hallways werescions of America’s ruling dynasties, endowed with rich family legacies, six-figureeducations, and important social connections that guaranteed an effortless rise to the top of whatever field they ultimately chose, whether it was law or something more interesting andinevitable, like politics.In contrast to her coworkers, Fallon Hughes grew up on a horse ranch in Shelby,Montana and earned her law degree from Pepperdine, an institution her peers thought wasroughly equivalent to a second-rate community college. Unlike the other associates who hadbeen selected for their bluest of blue blood, Fallon’s family was nouveau riche.Ranchers and oilmen could not impress the posturing-and-maneuvering snobs at JohnsonSloan Pruitt or the senior partners who ignored her from their massive corner offices, andthey never let her forget it.She blended in like baby powder in oil.Knowing she was never going to win over her detractors, Fallon rarely discussed herself atwork and tried to stay out of office politics entirely. Instead, she attempted to earn therespect of her bosses by producing excellent work. Currently she was tethered to her deskninety hours a week trying to defend a multi-billionaire hedge fund manager who had beenindicted on forty counts of fraud, conspiracy, and obstruction. The Department of Justicealleged that Robert Chandler was operating a ponzi scheme, defrauding wealthy widows tofund his lavish lifestyle, which included a fleet of twenty Ferraris, a yacht the size of afootball field, and a French chateau featuring a bubbling fountain of Cristal champagne thatflowed twenty-four hours a day, whether he was in residence or not. When he was indicted,he finally shut the spigot on the champers and sought the services of Johnson Sloan Pruitt,desperately attempting to save himself from a life sentence in federal prison.Though Fallon had only a miniscule aspect of the case, it was a plumy assignment, highprofile, with lots of opportunity to impress the partners. Certainly all those billable hoursmade for happy management committees, especially during bonus season. So with her careerin the balance, Fallon swallowed her certainty that her client was
guilty, guilty, guilty
andwent about defending him with zeal that was almost religious. For weeks now, Fallon hadignored the grinding fatigue that infiltrated her body like a virus and kept up the pace, livingon coffee and grit.As she deleted two inelegant sentences from the motion she was working on, the phoneon her desk warbled discreetly. She shifted her gaze just long enough to see the wordUNKNOWN flash on the caller ID.“Fallon Hughes,” she answered distractedly, her concentration already returning to themotion.“Hello?” a husky, unfamiliar male voice rasped.

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