[ON HIATUS] AMAZING GRACE // MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

BACKGROUND

"William Brandt." The sharply-dressed agent extended his hand across the table to shake.

Her hands still shook. Her nerves still felt ragged after Venice. She'd been in over her head and couldn't get a handle on it. If she shook his hand, he'd know how vulnerable she was.

Grace met his riveting blue eyes with a glint of mischief in her grin. "I don't shake hands unless I'm after your watch." She kept her palms firmly on her thighs under the table and pretended she couldn't feel her slacks grow moist with sweat under them.

Agent Brandt shot a glance to his giant silver watch and then shrugged, pulling his hand back. "Fair enough."

She watched him pull a number of paper files out of his laptop case and array them around his keyboard where he could view them all conveniently.

The tension in her back started to fade as he pulled off his jacket and draped it over his chair, rolling up his sleeves past his elbows.

She noted the muscular structure of his arms with appreciation while he absently typed at his keyboard.

"So you run secret super spy onboarding?" Grace wondered, trying to catch a glimpse at what the files were.

Brandt raised his gaze with high eyebrows, a derisive laugh at his lips. "Uh, no, definitely not."

"You're doing it right now."

"Yeah, well, Ethan called in a favor."

Grace's ears perked at the sound of Ethan's name. "Ethan sent you?" The words came out in a breath, as though he'd just told her that she'd been handpicked to be president.

"That's right."

"Is he coming?"

Brandt shot her a look. "No, Grace. Ethan is still indisposed. He's not coming."

She wilted a little. "What did he send you to do?"

Finally seeming to have gotten his things together, Brandt shuffled a selection of papers and pushed them across the table to her, along with a pen. "Onboarding paperwork. First I'll get your information to run a background check—"

The notorious and wildly successful lifelong thief shot him a bewildered look. "You have to check my criminal background?"

A boyish smirk played around the corners of Brandt's mouth, which happened to be a very attractive and charming look on him. "Nobody in this building is without a criminal background, Grace, excepting maybe the parking valets—maybe. We're looking for any anti- organizations. Have you been involved in any acts of terrorism against this or any other country?"

"No!"

"Have you ever associated with an organization which commits acts of terrorism against this or any country?"

"No."

The senior agent nodded amicably. "Then put your information in those blanks so we can confirm your claims."

Grace collected the pen and scanned the top sheet of paper. Scrawling her name, date of birth, social, and other personal data felt wrong. Anxiety itched at the back of her mind, pounding like a drum in her ears.

"Now, about your criminal background." Brandt began, only to be cut off by her puzzled expression again.

"I thought it didn't matter."

"It doesn't matter. Once your background check clears, IMF clears the rest. Your legal and criminal history will disappear. No record, no trace." William watched her eyes light up.

"Really?" Suddenly, she couldn't fill out the form fast enough. A clean slate. A new start.

"No record, Grace. Medical history, social media, school records, birth record, financial records. It all goes. The IMF has to be able to create and recreate you from the ground up for each new assignment. Your criminal history doesn't disappear, Grace. You do."

Grace finished her signature with a dramatic slash. "That's just fine with me, Agent Brandt."

The paperwork never seemed to end. Background checks, drug tests, medical history, government contracts that promised that the government didn't care if she died on the job, government contracts that promised she would be forgotten by every living soul if she died on the job, government contracts that promised she'd be buried if she ever disclosed secret information regarding the IMF or any IMF mission—her head spun by the third hour.

When Brandt finally packed up his laptop case and slipped back into his jacket, she got up to stretch.

He nodded to the door. "I'll take you to your apartment."

Pausing mid-yawn, Grace gaped at him. "My apartment?"

He nodded with a shrug. "Bed, shower, kitchen, basic amenities. No wifi, though. Everything's wired."

"Briggs already made me ditch my phone."

He flashed a smile and held open the door. "No worries then. After you."