Henderson, North Carolina

New Year's Eve

"Do you know what I hate more than anything in the world?" Grace flopped back on her sister Annabelle's bed and contemplated the ceiling. It was a spotless shade of Moonlit Lace. Grace knew this because on one lost-forever break from college, Annabelle had waved so many paint cards with different shades of white in front of her eyes that she thought she'd go snowblind.

"Losing." Annabelle didn't even look up from her iPad. She was no doubt typing a list of Dos and Don'ts to email to this year's herd of debutantes before tonight's New Year's Eve Ball. Her perfectly shaped pink nails tapped the screen with industrious precision. A slight frown wrinkled her usually smooth forehead.

"Besides that." Grace did a sit-up and scooted against Annabelle's bleached oak headboard. She loved Annabelle's room. The decor was an ultra-feminine mix of green, pinks and yellows and the room was always in perfect order, unlike the obstacle course that her room usually reverted to less than thirty minutes after she cleaned it.

"The thing you hate wouldn't have anything to do with a certain kiss at midnight, would it?" Tess asked from the doorway. Tess was older by two years. When she strolled into the room, the space immediately felt smaller. Despite the fact her long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail and there wasn't a brush of makeup on her face, Tess filled the room with her presence. She always had. Her success on the Broadway stage had come as no surprise to Grace.

"Of course not. I've told you, I don't hate kissing Lewis." She actually liked Lewis, something she'd never admit or her mother would have the wedding planned and future grandchildren named. She crossed her legs, making room for Tess to sit on the foot of the bed. "Wouldn't surprise me if he's written an equation for the perfect kiss."

Tess's brown eyes were full of amused disbelief. "Is that so? Well, you would certainly know." She snickered. "Belly told me about the KampKiss. I think you should ask Dad to fund the start-up."

Grace reached behind her back for one of the five million decorative pillows that Annabelle kept on her bed and tossed one that looked like a yellow tootsie roll at Tess. "I do not want to be responsible for Daddy's loss of innocence. Can you imagine his reaction to the idea that one of his daughters even knows what a sex toy is?"

"I refuse to believe Lewis is that good of a kisser anyway." Annabelle didn't look entirely certain.

"You'll never know for sure unless you kiss him." Grace tried for a mysterious smile.

"We wouldn't dream of depriving you of the pleasure." Tess tossed a pink and white pillow at Grace. She wrinkled her nose when Annabelle opened her mouth to object. "What? They're called throw pillows, aren't they? So, what do you hate, Gracie, if it's not kissing Lewis?" Her tone was light, but Grace recognized the bulldog glint in her eyes. Tess had picked up the fact that something was seriously bothering her.

Annabelle set her iPad aside and leaned forward. "Spill, Gracie."

Grace took a deep breath. "I've got a big decision to make about my job. I've been asked to join a task force led by Michael Wolfram, the special agent who mentored me in Chicago. I told him I'd give him a decision when I go back to work next week."

"Michael Wolfram?" Tess's brow furrowed. "I remember him from when I came to visit you in Chicago."

"He's driving down from Washington tonight. He's my date."

"Way to go, girl." Tess looked impressed, and then worried. "He might actually kiss you at midnight."

Grace pumped a mental fist in the air. No losing for her tonight.

"This sounds like a no-brainer. Is there a problem with joining the task force?" Annabelle asked.

Grace tugged at the ends of her hair. "No. Well, okay. Maybe just a little problem. His name is Leo Ramos. He's a special agent assigned to my squad in Washington." She scowled. "We're good friends."

"Ah." Annabelle didn't have any problem understanding her explanation. "That's a bitch."

"And a recurring theme for you," Tess added.

Grace nodded. "I'm not a girly-girl. Men automatically put me in the friend category."

Tess gave a short laugh. "Men never automatically put women in the friend category. You put yourself in that category." She tilted her head, her look assessing. "You don't have to be a girly-girl to be a hundred percent female."

Sometimes when Tess spoke with that rhythmic musicality in her tone, Grace expected her to break into a song, in this case, maybe Rodger and Hammerstein's "I Enjoy Being a Girl," or Shania Twain's "I Feel Like a Woman."

Tess threw another pillow at her, ignoring Annabelle's huff. "Quit humming, I'm not about to sing. Here's my advice. Grab him, kiss him blind and he'll stop thinking of you as a friend. Then have your way with him. If you're enough of an idiot to let him break your heart, simply listen to Adele--once in the morning before work and once before bed for two weeks. Then you can head off to the new task force, strong and fierce, Ramos forgotten."

A startled silence settled over the room. Before her marriage, her sister hadn't been such a cynic. Tess must be having a harder time with the divorce than Grace realized. About to probe more deeply, she caught Annabelle's quick headshake.

Right. A lot of eyes would be on Tess tonight. They always were, but tonight, in her hometown, at the celebration she'd made the backdrop for her wedding, the focus would be relentless. Tess didn't need to delve into a discussion on the psychological consequences of her failed marriage hours before stepping onto that stage. Grace would corner her tomorrow for a heart to heart

"Okay, Dr. Tess," Grace said slowly. "Not a bad plan, except he refuses to become involved with FBI employees."

Tess shrugged. "That just makes it more of a challenge."

Annabelle looked confused. "Is this guy going to be here tonight?"

"No, of course not." Ramos as her date tonight was something she wouldn't even let herself fantasize about.

"Then forget about him for now and focus on the guy who will be. Did I ever meet Michael?"

"I don't think so," Grace said. "You'll love him, though. He's probably got almost as many clothes in his closet as you do."

Annabelle folded her arms across her chest. "Then I hope you're wearing something appropriate tonight."

Grace winced. "Actually, I was hoping you might have something I can wear."

"Grace Elizabeth Devine, are you telling me that you have no idea what you're wearing and the party is tonight?" Annabelle stood up and marched toward her closet. "I cannot believe we share the same DNA."

"Mom made the mistake of stepping inside a Wal-Mart while she was pregnant with me. My Niemen Marcus gene was damaged beyond repair."

Annabelle ignored her and walked into her closet.

"You might want to leave a trail of bread crumbs so you can find your way back out of there," Grace called.

The rustle of clothes hangers was Annabelle's only response.

"So you're thinking of transferring again after only six months in Washington?" Tess asked quietly. "I thought you loved it there."

"I do. I love the excitement, the feeling that I'm at the hub." There was always something happening. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "A new joint task force is going after the group responsible for the Isaac Massacres." Several months ago, a suspected domestic terrorist group in the Idaho wilderness had shocked and horrified the nation when each family in the sect had killed off their eldest child in what was believed to be a twisted loyalty ritual.

"I didn't sleep for a week after I watched the news coverage. I almost envy you the chance to go after them." Tess's beautiful brown eyes narrowed. "Tell me about Ramos."

Grace hesitated and finally settled for a simple description. "He's smart, tough, and is an excellent leader because he doesn't have to constantly prove he's an alpha male with a bigger dick than the rest of us."

Annabelle's voice floated out of the closet. "Do I need to keep reminding you that you don't have a dick?"

"Trust me, I've had to grow that and a pair to go along with it."

"Good thing I made sure the dress I chose isn't too short or tight in the crotch area," Annabelle said as she came to the closet door. She carried an alarmingly big dress bag draped over one arm. Setting the dress bag across a chair, she walked to her dresser and opened a case filled with nail polish bottles.

Grace tucked her toenails under her thighs. "I'm not putting that stuff on my nails."

Annabelle sighed. "The pair you grew is only metaphorical, right?"

"Girls!" Jody Devine popped her blonde head around the door. "Here you are." She paused and a warm smile spread over her lovely face. Jody's sparkling blue eyes, the envy of all three of her brown-eyed daughters, filled with emotion. "Seeing you all together up here reminds me of when you were little. How did you grow up so quickly?" Since it was a frequently asked question, no one attempted to answer. "Tess, there's a phone call for you on the house phone. Apparently you ignored your cell." Mom thought it was the height of rudeness not to answer your phone. She still operated on old landline rules in a mobile tech world. She held out the handset. "It's on hold."

Tess jumped off the bed. "Thanks, Mom." She took the phone from her mother and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "It's probably my publicist. I'll take this in my room."

"Tess." Grace scrambled off the bed and grabbed her sister's arm, unable to stop from asking one question. "Wait a sec. Are you going to be okay tonight?"

Tess had her stage smile firmly in place. "Of course. I'm fine."

"Barry is a dickhead. You want me take some of my boys and go rough him up a bit, just because?"

That got a flicker of Tess's real smile. "That's Mafia-speak, not FBI."

"Oh, right. I keep getting those two mixed up. In that case, how about if I let you kiss Lewis tonight. It will make you feel better, trust me."

Tess actually laughed.

Her mother's eyes brightened. "Lewis? Tess, I always thought he'd make a good match for you. He's such a nice boy."

Both Grace and Annabelle laughed as Tess escaped down the hall.