A cute and quirky 'girl next door' type cons a clueless standby passenger into helping her out with a few jobs,... as an assassin. Her plan is flawless, until she realizes she's actually falling for her pigeon.  

SYNOPSIS:

The closest John Roark has ever come to what would resemble adventure, is what he writes in his screenplays. Now he has to get to Paris for a meeting that may ignite the career he’s been working toward all his life. No problem: he’s packed, he’s at the airport, and his best friend got him his ticket. So, why is the lady at the counter shaking her head while she looks at that ticket? From behind, Roark hears a sweet, lilting voice offering an explanation, "You have a standby ticket, just like mine."

Now, what happens when he meets this adorable, cute, quirky girl who offers to help him, and guarantees to get him to Paris, for the meeting, for his career, yada, yada, yada,... What then? Could he be that lucky? Could the gods be shining down on him? Could the stars have aligned as they do only once in a millennium, just for John Roark? Most likely, no. And, not that he’s an idiot, but what exactly does it mean that he has a standby ticket?

It means he’s not flying into Paris. Does not mean he won’t get there. On the contrary: he and his new found friend will fly into Lisbon, drive a rent-a-car up the coast through Portugal, Spain, do some farm work to help out with the shoestring budget, and, oh yeah, unwittingly, he will be an accomplice to the assassinations of foreign dignitaries along the way. All in a day’s work for Danielle Brancaccio, the sweet young woman any man would feel obliged to taking care of and protect. Meanwhile, she rewrites his life and embroils Roark in a wild, out of control adventure that pales in comparison to anything he’s ever written.

Even when she explains how to kill a man with nothing more than her thumbs, or reveals the theory of hydrostatic shock with the ease of a child enjoying a bowl of ice cream, he remains in denial.

Not until a professor like fellow who has shadowed Roark from the beginning of this fateful journey, explains that Roark is, in all reality "an unassuming dolt, a patsy, a pawn, a puppet, a stooge, a chump, a,..." Roark finally gets it. Nevertheless, he shows his love for the woman who awoke him from his mundane life by throwing himself in the middle of a firefight. Damn, if only Roark could write like this!