Blonde Ops A Novel

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To George Cavuto, my seventh-grade English teacher: You encouraged a shy, awkward girl to write and warned the bullies to leave her alone. Your words freed mine. And to George Grattan, high school English teacher: you showed me the wonderful universe of poets, playwrights, novelists. Your love of words opened my world.

—Charlotte Bennardo

For Kevin Mitnick, Bernie S., and Barnaby Jack.

—Natalie Zaman

Blonde OPS

Prologue

Zip tie handcuffs—not my best accessory.

For one, they didn’t go with the hot-pink dress and crystal-studded heels I was wearing for the interview. Worse, though, was that they’d been used to tether me to a decorative wrought-iron window screen between my coworkers, and at the moment, neither of them made for good company. Sophie looked like she was going to lose it—very bad in a crisis situation—and Kevin swore until he was out of breath.

Boarding school didn’t seem so bad anymore.

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