Free Love Irresistibly by Julie James

executive at Sterling Restaurants, behind Ian. She handled matters on a corporate level, while the managers had primary responsibility for the daily problems that arose at the restaurants. Which meant that Brooke personally did not get involved in customer complaints—ever—unless they turned into potential legal issues. So volunteering to interject herself in this particular situation was odd.
    Still, she played it casually. “Yeah, sure,” she said with a wave. “I’ve got it.”
    Rochelle paused at that, and her expression changed from one of confusion to curiosity. And suddenly, it clicked.
    Something’s going on.
    Seeing the flicker of recognition in the other woman’s eyes, Brooke held Rochelle’s gaze unwaveringly. Yes, something was going on. But the beauty of being the second-most-powerful executive was that she didn’t have to give any explanations.
    After a moment, Rochelle nodded. “Of course.” And no further questions were asked.
    With that, Brooke headed toward the staircase that would lead her to the second level. The Complainers could fuss all they wanted, but they weren’t getting anywhere near Sanderson’s table. She, Brooke Parker, recently of the mad undercover skills, was on top of this.
    She stopped, realizing something, and looked back at Rochelle.
    “Um . . . which one is table twenty-eight?”
    * * *
    UPSTAIRS, BROOKE SPOTTED Agent Huxley and his undercover date, who were seated only a few feet from table twenty-eight. As the two agents chatted amiably, Huxley held Brooke’s gaze briefly, as if to say he was aware there was a “situation” and was relieved to see she was on top of it.
    Brooke’s goal, as she walked toward the Complainers, was simply to resolve this issue as quickly as possible. By no means did she want Torino and Senator Sanderson overhearing any discussion about a table that had been reserved specifically for them. Since they had not, in fact, made any such arrangements, this would undoubtedly seem suspicious. And if that happened, they might get paranoid and clam up about whatever shady things Cade, Huxley, and Vaughn were all jonesed about, and Brooke would have a boring, anticlimactic ending to the really fantastic story she planned to tell someday about the time she was a key operative in a federal corruption investigation.
    With that in mind, she threw on a smile as she approached the table and introduced herself. “Hi, there. I’m Brooke. Rochelle said you wanted to speak to a manager?” Conveniently, Brooke left out the fact that she wasn’t one.
    The Complainers were not what she’d expected.
    Given Sogna’s expensive prices, the restaurant tended to get more than its fair share of high-roller, high-maintenance types. Frankly, Brooke had assumed table twenty-eight was going to be a prime example of that: a wealthy couple, possibly a flashy investment banker sporting a thirty-thousand – dollar watch on one arm and his Gucci-clad, twentysomething trophy wife on the other—not that she was stereotyping here—who were offended by the notion that they weren’t getting the best seats in the house.
    Instead, what she found was a couple in their midfifties, sans Gucci and flash, who looked slightly embarrassed.
    “Oh, thank you. But we’re fine,” the woman said. She threw a do-not-make-a-stink-about-this look at the man across the table from her. “My husband and I are having a wonderful evening. We’re sorry to have bothered you.”
    The husband, not so easily appeased, turned to Brooke. “See, it’s just that—”
    His wife cut him off with a smile. “ Sweetie. Let it go. I’m sure Brooke has a lot on her plate tonight.”
    Just helping the Feds take down a state senator . All in a day’s work. “No apologies necessary. I’m told you were asking about moving to a table next to the windows?”
    “Yes, because I arranged this two months ago,” the husband said. He shrugged off his wife’s glare. “What? She asked.” He turned back