A VERY UN-SHAKESPEARE ROMANCE: ‘A Fake Dad Grumpy Sunshine Romantic Comedy’

Her heart was galloping like a herd of wild horses.

Lily Meadows shifted in her seat next to her partner, trying to ignore the feeling that the metal sides of their undercover vehicle were closing in on her. They’d lost their suspect.

How in the hell had Tara O’Connor given them the slip? When her boss found out, Lily’s desire for the promotion to the FBI’s Child Exploitation and Human Trafficking Task Force would be dead in the water.

She wanted to bang her head on the steering wheel in frustration, but that would be childish. Unprofessional. She might be the polar opposite of the stereotypical alpha, tough-guy FBI agent, but she was a seasoned field agent. She went undercover frequently. Faced down dangerous criminals. Prepared for every eventuality.

How had she blown it?

Lily had judged Tara O’Connor to be a good mother, but she’d just left her two children alone. At a gym. Those adorable little girls had been abandoned by the person who was supposed to love and cherish them the most. That kind of shit left scars. She knew from personal experience.

“Are you wheezing?” Sheila Morales was known for being one of the most wise-cracking, prank-playing agents in FBI circles, but when she put on her drill sergeant tone, people’s spines straightened. “Pull it together, Sunshine. I know this looks bad, but don’t make me get out a paper bag. I’d feel obligated to take a photo of you sucking in air on surveillance and pin it up in the break room.”

That helped her get her breathing under control. She got enough ragging as it was for having a last name like Meadows and looking like the girl next door, an asset in undercover work. Add in the kernel of positivity she felt toward life despite everything in her past, and she’d been given the nickname Sunshine. Sheila had even given her a You are my Sunshine T-shirt for their softball games as well as a key chain, which she used for her apartment in Chelsea, an easy commute to FBI headquarters.

“You even think about telling anyone I wheezed, Sheila, and I’ll tell everyone how you forgot to shave your girly parts on your last undercover gig when you were supposed to be a stripper.”

“Almost blew my cover because of a bush.” Her partner’s rough laugh erupted in the hot car. “It was a last-minute assignment, and I still blame the head of the task force for forgetting to include that detail about my outfit in my undercover packet.”

Lily couldn’t even manage a smile as her gaze cut back to the parking garage they were surveilling. “We’re so screwed, Sheila.”

Sheila turned in her seat, and Lily focused on her grounding presence. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off dangling gold earrings. She wore minimal makeup and nude lipstick. Her pantsuit was all black with serviceable ankle boots she could run in. They’d been partners since Lily had been transferred to Boston six months ago. Sheila was the more senior agent, having been in the Bureau for ten years in comparison to Lily’s five. Her experience in the field came through in moments like this, and Lily nodded to tell her she was ready to listen.

“We are not screwed.” Sheila narrowed her brown eyes. “And you stop your rare Negative Nancy tirade. I’m the only person who gets to be Negative Nancy in this partnership. This case still has golden ticket written all over it. I’m going to say this slowly in case all the blood in your forebrain has up and left, but the Child Exploitation and Human Trafficking Task Force is going to be doing cartwheels to have you. When we nail Branigan Kelly and close down his operation, Lily, you’ll get whatever you want. I’m going to miss you like hell when they put me with some other partner, but I tell myself we’ll still work together on the odd case and hang out and talk shop. It’s gonna happen. Listen to Mama on this.”

God, she must be really freaking out to have Sheila put on her cheerleading outfit. “All right, Mama, dialing Negative Nancy back and putting my sunshine self back on,” she tried to joke, flicking her wavy blond hair over her shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too, by the way.”

“I know.” Sheila lightly punched her in the shoulder. “Now, let’s talk about where we are in this case. We know Tara is likely in the wind, which justifies the judge’s decision to let us put a tracker on the car she was driving after we saw her bulk shopping at Costco this morning.”

“But she didn’t take her car, Sheila. Why didn’t she—”

“Calm down, Sunshine. I’m telling you… We just watched her cousin, who’s an officer in the precinct where we know Kelly has cops on his payroll, pick up the kids and bring them to the car we put the tracker on. That, my friend, is manna from heaven. Why? Because we happen to know there’s fifty grand in that black suitcase. The same black suitcase Tara O’Connor was seen taking to and from her three nail salons.”

That had been a day. But Lily still didn’t believe Tara O’Connor was behind this mess. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have removed the cash from the premises…and the Kellys wouldn’t have slashed her tires. Sheila wasn’t convinced—she’d argued that there’d been some kind of dispute, and Tara had moved the cash as a safeguard. Although fifty thousand seemed kinda light to her. With three nail salons, wouldn’t there have been more?

“Your confidential informant told us that money is Branigan Kelly’s dirty money,” Sheila continued, although she didn’t need the reminder. The informant had also told her that it had been laundered through Tara’s nail salons. “We have confirmation that the cash is in Tara’s new SUV in that garage, and Tara’s husband and Janice Brewster disappeared. Enter the new actor today. One of Boston’s finest. Lily, we could collar one of Kelly’s dirty cops—”

“I don’t think he’s dirty, Sheila.” Lily gripped the wheel. “We’ve looked at everyone in his precinct, and he didn’t even make the third cut. Robbie O’Connor’s from a squeaky-clean, toe-the-line proud Irish Catholic family that pays their taxes on time.”

Sheila flicked her hand in the direction of the garage where Lieutenant O’Connor and Tara’s two young children had entered over ten minutes ago. “And yet his cousin and her husband are suspected of laundering money for the mob.”

Lily scanned the parking garage entrance. What was he doing in there with those girls? If the girls hadn’t looked completely comfortable with him, she’d be sick with concern. Instead, he’d been holding Cassidy protectively and walking slowly so Reagan wouldn’t have to run to keep up. Fact was, he’d look downright tender toward those two girls. Bad guys didn’t do that.

“They’ve certainly been in there for a while,” she said, fighting the urge to bite her short, unpainted nails. “You don’t think the Kellys followed him, do you? I know we can see all the cars entering and leaving from this angle, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t go in on foot.”

“I know you’re worried about the kids,” Sheila said, her eyes fixed like a laser to the garage. “I am too. Let’s give it five more minutes before I walk in and look around.”

When Tara hadn’t reappeared through the main entrance, she and Sheila had gone in, pretending they were considering joining the gym. There’d been no sign of Tara, but Lily had managed to look around the corner into the daycare to confirm her girls were still there and okay. After watching them play duck, duck, goose with the daycare attendant, they’d headed back to the car. They’d barely made it inside before Lieutenant O’Connor had arrived in a cab—not his regular police-issue car—and strode inside with authority, only to exit with the girls minutes later, carrying the same bedazzled BOSS bag Tara had brought into the building. Damn, but she wanted to know if something important was in that bag, because it had looked heavy. More cash? But why split the cash into two pieces of luggage? And why risk it being discovered when Cassidy needed a diaper change? God, she had so many questions…

“He still might turn in the cash and put the kids into child protective services,” Lily said with a glance at her partner.

Sheila only made a noncommittal sound in response.

Hating the waiting, Lily started tapping her fingers on her knees, chewing on what she knew of Robbie O’Connor from her file review of potential dirty cops. Thirty-nine. Six-four. Divorced. Residence in the Seaport District in South Boston. On the force for almost twenty years. He’d worked his way up, serving first as a patrol officer, then as leader of the department’s tactical unit, and now as lieutenant with whispers that he might even be considered for captain. Impeccable record. Volunteered in the community. Heck, he’d even been a teen mentor for a few years before he’d been handed more responsibility in the department.

Basically, a stand-up guy.

Not a likely accomplice to Scotty Flanagan, whose bigmouthed girlfriend had led to his downfall. Janice Brewster had innocently shot her mouth off to one of Lily’s confidential informants in a local casino, telling the CI that her new mink coat had come from the Kellys, whom Scotty was working for.

Brought down by a side piece.

Lily loved the poetic justice of that. Men were always thinking with their dicks. It happened everywhere, especially in law enforcement. “Sheila, I still think Tara kicking her husband out like she did and taking him off the bank accounts means something.”

“That could have been because he was screwing the help and got caught. Just because she didn’t want her man two-timing on her doesn’t mean she wouldn’t launder money.”

This time she was the one who made the noncommittal sound.

“Tara wheeled that black suitcase out of her three nail salons, and she still hasn’t called the cops.”

“Maybe she just did by calling in her cousin.”

“I know you think he’s a Boy Scout…”

Lily wouldn’t go that far. He was too rough-looking for that, what with his square jaw that could take a punch and probably had and his masculine, tough-as-nails demeanor. She wasn’t going to lie—she liked the look of Robbie O’Connor. Sure, he was handsome enough, and that was part of it, but what affected her more was the sweetness with which he’d held Cassidy and led Reagan by the hand. Call her Sunshine as she was billed, but kids were good at telling you a lot about adults if you paid attention. Just like adults advertised a lot about themselves by how they treated kids.

“We’ll know soon enough about Lieutenant O’Connor, don’t worry.” Sheila cracked open a trio of pistachios, her go-to for their waiting games, before tossing the shells on the floor and popping the kernels in her mouth.

“You know I hate it when you do that,” Lily reminded her.

Sheila gave her a lopsided smile. “Yeah, but you’d take a bullet for me.”

“Because you’re my partner,” she shot back, “and only a flesh wound.”

“Not that me being your best friend has anything to do with it, of course.” She cracked a few more nuts and extended them to Lily. “Come on. You need to eat something.”

“You know I can’t eat during surveillance.” She clenched her knees. “God, what could he be doing?”

“He ain’t changing no diaper.” Sheila chortled. “That I can guarantee. Did you see that diaper bag? I can’t believe an alpha dog like him would be caught dead carrying that. It looked like a bedazzler had thrown up all over it. I swear, I don’t get why some women have an addiction to bling.” She paused, considering, then said, “I guess maybe it’s like men and toupees. But what are they trying to compensate for?”

“Maybe they just want to be more attractive. Some girls like to feel pretty.” She thought of those poor kids. Feeling pretty would be little comfort to them if things continued to go south.

Their father was at large, and now that they’d seen the cash, there’d soon be a warrant out for his arrest. Mom was now at large as well, it appeared. A warrant might be in her future. Those two sweet girls couldn’t be in a more vulnerable place. She knew. At one time, she’d been just like them.

Come on, you bastard. Don’t let me be wrong. Don’t be dirty.

“That’s our SUV!”

Lily turned on the car, trying not to jump to conclusions. “Lieutenant O’Connor is driving. I think you should—”

“I’m calling Buck right this minute.” Buck being their tough-as-nails boss. “It won’t sound so bad that Tara snuck out a side entrance on us if we’re following a possible dirty cop with mob money. Don’t tail too close.”

“What am I? An extra in a Hollywood movie?”

Her partner shot her a grin before taking on her checking in voice as their boss picked up. When Sheila winced, so did Lily. The FBI office in Boston was a large one with over four hundred agents. It was Lily’s biggest office to date, her biggest opportunity too, and she didn’t want her career to go down in flames because they’d assumed a mother wouldn’t leave her kids in a gym.

From the irate response she could hear through the phone, their boss was chewing out Sheila royally. During her first meeting with Buck, he’d said she only had to remember one thing: don’t fuck with Buck. He was going places, and if she didn’t help him get there, he’d transfer her butt out so fast her pretty little head would spin. She’d managed to never make him repeat his famous motto since, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d used it with Sheila today. Lily knew he had cause to be angry. She was upset with herself for the blunder.

Her partner was quiet for a long moment before clicking off the phone and saying, “We’re to follow O’Connor and not blink our eyes once. So we won’t lose him like we did our last suspect. Like a pathetic rookie who doesn’t know his ass from the FBI handbook.”

Lily swallowed thickly. “Terrific. If we mess this up, Buck will transfer us out, and we’ll be lucky to land in an FBI office in Mobile—”

“Or El Paso.” Sheila cranked up the air-conditioning and fanned herself. “You know how much I hate hot weather.”

“I’ll send you a fan,” Lily remarked as she followed Robbie O’Connor onto I-93. “Where is he going, do you think?”

“This certainly isn’t the way to his precinct.” Sheila rubbed her hands together. “So I’m hopeful we’re about to pull in a bigger fish for Buck.”

“You’re so pessimistic about people.” Lily made sure to keep ten cars back, but she kept her eyes peeled.

“I know, and I love that about me. Better to be surprised than devastated. Or dead, for that matter.”

Sheila had been shot at, but then again, she’d been in the FBI longer than Lily and had worked in Phoenix, Dallas, and Cleveland before Boston. Lily had only been in Sacramento and Tampa before.

“Okay, you win with the death card.” Lily rolled her shoulders. “Do you think he’s leaving the state?”

Sheila cracked her knuckles. “If he does, that shoots this whole thing to another level. Can you see your promotion papers in your hands now, Sunshine?”

“Are you going to sing the song? Because with your pipes, it makes me feel all special inside.”

“Ah, that makes me want to sing real bad.” Sheila stretched her feet out, kicking pistachio shells under her seat. “But I won’t start singing the song until we take in Lieutenant O’Connor.”

“I’m so hurt.” Lily grabbed the volume dial for the stereo and turned it up, pleased Beyoncé was playing on one of their shared Spotify playlists. FBI agents got along best when they were in agreement about a number of things, music in the car being of top importance.

She followed as O’Connor took exit 7 for MA-3 S toward Cape Cod. Sheila cracked more pistachios, crunching as Sia sang about swinging from chandeliers. Lily had a practical side that always cringed from that one. She preferred rope if she was climbing.

They seemed to be on the MA-3 forever when he finally took the exit toward Smith Lane.

“Where is he going?” she mused aloud.

“No clue, but I’m glad you insisted we fill up the tank this morning.”

“I always prefer having a full tank when we’re conducting surveillance.”

Sheila smirked. “Being Miss Prepared and all.”

“No, my training officer told a story about running out of gas once when the suspect they were surveilling took off. They couldn’t stop for gas, and he went farther than expected. They lost him when they ran out. It stuck with me.”

“That sucks, but nice to know our fellow officers have their bad days. Like we did today. It happens.”

“That error was probably why he was my training officer, Sheila,” Lily reasoned. “Wait! He’s turning.”

“Slow down. You don’t want him to spot you.”

“He won’t.” She took her foot off the gas, slowing her speed rapidly, but then she spotted the sign, her insides pinging. “Oh my God! He’s taking them to Maziply Toys.”

“What’s that? A fancy sex shop?”

She blew a raspberry. “New England’s largest toy store, supposedly,” she told her. “I heard one of the agents say he’d taken his kids there.”

“So he’s playing the part of a good cousin, huh?” Sheila threw more shells on the floor. “I don’t buy it.”

Lily parked well away from Lieutenant O’Connor but kept the engine running in case this was a ruse and he’d only stopped because he’d spotted her. Moments later, he was stepping out of the driver’s seat, though, opening the back and plucking out Cassidy, who was still holding her adorable teddy bear. Then Reagan got out and took his hand, and they walked into the toy store like old friends.

“Hmm…” Sheila crossed her ankles. “Bribes for the kids for a long car trip?”

She shook her head. The endless speculation was part of being an FBI officer. She’d turned on some inner question fountain at Quantico, and since then, she’d asked more questions than any normal person alive. In fact, she was pretty sure that if she logged her annual questions number, she could go in the Guinness Book of World Records.

“Why don’t you drink your fancy coconut water and turn off the car?” her partner continued. “We can pretend we’re working on our phones. Do you remember when it was weird for people to stay in their cars? Now it’s so common it makes me wonder what the world is coming to.”

“But it makes surveillance easier.” She grabbed her coconut water from her little cooler bag in the back. “I’ve given up trying to convince you how much better this is for hydration than all the Starbucks and Cokes you inhale. Not that I don’t like caffeine, but six to ten a day is going to bite back someday, and I happen to like my partner.”

“You’re not too bad yourself—even if you do like pink water. Why it’s pink and not white I still don’t understand.”

“I’ve told you it’s the oxygenation of the sugars.” She took a healthy swig and smacked her lips. “I can even taste the beach it was on. Man, I miss the beach sometimes.” Even at her worst moments as a kid, she could find escape on the beach and then in the Pacific, first learning to swim and later surfing.

“We need a vacation.” Sheila patted her belly, her pudge as she called it. “Not that I’m ever swimsuit ready. Doesn’t matter if I run ten miles a day like I did when I was at Quantico. I’m always carrying the Morales extras around the bust, hips, and bootie, which I swear are from all the black beans, rice, and tortillas of my childhood.”

“Your mother is the best cook I’ve ever met. If I were an investor, I’d try to get her to quit the bench and open a restaurant.”

“I’ll tell Judge Morales about your offer when I call her next. Hey! Do you see that black car turning into the parking lot? It screams government issue.”

She held up her phone, looking over her shoulder casually, as if she were on FaceTime. “Yeah. I agree. That pops your dirty cop theory.”

“Not necessarily. They could be in on it.”

When two men left the car with fuck-you strides and shabby suits, Lily straightened in her seat. “Hey, that’s O’Connor’s partner, Mickey Evans, and—”

“Roland Thomas from Internal Affairs. Dammit! It seems the jig is up. We’re going to have to approach and tell them we’re onto Scotty Flanagan and his wife for suspected money laundering.”

“Not in the toy store,” Lily pleaded, putting a hand on Sheila’s arm. “There are kids in there, having fun, oblivious to how bad the world can be sometimes.”

Sheila nodded crisply. “We can wait.”

Fifteen minutes passed, and another car raced to the front of the parking lot. Lily gaped as a forest green Chevrolet Suburban arrived and parked close to O’Connor’s car. Two men exited, the bulky one extremely tall with a shaved head, white T-shirt, and ripped jeans. The other was still a sizable height but with a more slender build. He had on a blue T-shirt and brown cargo pants. Lily studied faces for a living, and she caught the O’Connor resemblance in the jaw and brow line.

“Ladies and gentlemen, meet Boston’s version of Vin Diesel and his sidekick,” Sheila said with a laugh.

“They’re his brothers,” she said softly. “I’d bet you more pistachios.”

Sheila lifted her phone and took a few photos. “You might be right, but I can put their photos in and check for sure.”

“Later. Let’s keep our eyes peeled.”

The men quickly went inside. Sheila lowered her phone, her mouth twisting to one side. “Any ideas? Because I don’t think they’re here shopping for toys for their kids.”

She turned the car on. “It has to be a meet, right? But if we go inside, we’ll blow our cover. I say we wait here and see what their next play is.”

“And hope they aren’t going out the back,” Sheila said wryly.

Right. Five minutes later, the tall bald guy exited the store with Cassidy in his arms while the other guy held Reagan’s hand. Each girl was carrying a new toy, Cassidy’s a furry brown rabbit and Reagan’s a new Barbie of some sort. Both men were talking to the kids, and the girls were animated. Happy, even. “If they are Robbie’s brothers, then it makes sense that the girls know them.”

Sheila threw aside more pistachios and picked up her phone, surreptitiously taking photos. “They sure look chummy with the kiddies. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

Lily watched as the brothers took the girls to the Suburban and proceeded to show them the inside of the vehicle. Robbie O’Connor appeared seconds later with the other two police officers. All were carrying gift bags from the toy store. Good cover that. At the car, Lieutenant O’Connor opened the side door, grabbed the diaper bag, and then disappeared around the back of the vehicle to unlock the trunk. The men huddled around it, obstructing their view.

“Dammit!” Sheila leaned closer to the dashboard. “I can’t get a bead on what they’re doing.”

“Neither can I,” Lily said. “Take some photos anyway. We’ll see if our tech guys can work their magic.”

Moments later, Robbie hefted out the black suitcase, handing it over to Roland Thomas, who shook his hand and took off toward his vehicle. Lily caught sight of the diaper bag resting in the back beside the girls’ suitcases as Robbie turned to his partner. There was a tense moment when O’Connor laid his hand on Mickey Evans’ shoulder.

“Whatever he’s communicating is serious,” she said.

Sheila gave a low whistle. “He’s just gone to Internal Affairs and handed over the Kellys’ mob money with his partner present. Smart to have a witness he trusts on the force. You’re right about one thing. This likely blows my dirty cop theory. If they aren’t dirty, O’Connor will be a target now, both from the inside leak on his own force and the Kellys. Because it doesn’t look like he’s going with them. Interesting…”

She watched as O’Connor and his partner man-hugged. “No, he isn’t.”

Then he tossed him the key fob and took out the remaining luggage.

“Oh, shit, he’s changing vehicles!”

“Good thing you put a second tracker on the cat,” Lily said as she watched his partner open the driver’s side of the Cadillac and jump in.

“You’re the one who said they wouldn’t leave the cat if something changed, so that’s a win for you. But I risked being clawed by the maniac cat for justice.”

“You get major points,” Lily said, watching as Robbie carted the luggage to the Suburban.

“You can buy me a drink when we finally get off our shift, Sunshine. My concern is that we have a police officer taking a car with an FBI tracking device on it to God knows where. We don’t want the South Boston cops to know we’re running this investigation.”

Lily winced. “There’s no reason to think anyone will find it.”

“That’s you being all sunshine again,” Sheila said with an edge to her voice. “We’d better hope so or this case could go up in our faces.”

Lily watched as the bald guy joined O’Connor. They stacked the girls’ suitcases in the back of the Suburban, which already had three duffel bags inside. O’Connor dropped the diaper bag inside, and then the brothers crossed back to the Cadillac and lugged over the four boxes from Costco. The bald guy appeared carrying the car seats and the cat in her carrier.

“That pussy just saved our life,” Sheila said with a wicked laugh.

Lily didn’t appreciate that word, even though she worked around very rough-talking people, men and women included. “I won’t have to follow so closely, which is good. Because God knows where they’re headed now.”

A loud meow tore through the parking lot, and the bald man’s disparaging swear word carried, earning him a quick rebuke from O’Connor, who pointed at the kids in the Suburban. Lily rather appreciated his desire to protect the kids from foul language.

The bald guy made clawlike hands in O’Connor’s direction before he disappeared from view into the green Suburban. Doors slammed on the passenger side. O’Connor stood alone by the driver’s side, watching as his partner followed the officer from Internal Affairs slowly out of the parking lot.

“He looks like he’s just lost his best friend,” Sheila said with a sigh. “I kinda feel for him. But I’m still withholding judgment until we find out if Roland turns in the money…and where his partner takes Tara’s new car.”

“They’re not dirty,” Lily said in a steely tone as she watched Robbie O’Connor’s hardened profile in the sunlight. “He’s turned the money over immediately and is taking off with some of his brothers to protect those sweet little girls—and his cousin, mind you.”

“Don’t make him into a knight yet,” her own partner wisely pointed out. “We need more—”

“Call our boss and tell him what we saw.” She put the car in drive. “Ask him for permission to follow the subject at a distance, even if they cross state lines. Tara O’Connor is going to reunite with her kids, and we want to be there to pick her up as a material witness when she does. She’s the key to bringing down the Kellys. I know it.”

She wasn’t going to back down from the biggest case of her life, and if she could keep watch over those precious little girls, knowing the kind of heat coming for them, then all the better.