MALLORY’S SEAT IS VACANT WHEN I enter our suite at Landry Holdings. Her phone and keys are in a clump on her desk, wrappers from some kind of candy in a heap by her keyboard.

I can’t resist. Picking them up and tossing them in the garbage, I head to my office. Door left open.

I try to focus on the contract in front of me, but every time I hear a sound, I look up to see if it’s Mallory. It’s some Pavlovian dog bullshit and I hate I’m to this point with her.

Mulling over my brothers’ words on the way over here, I know they’re right. This is going to end one way or the other. It always does. It’s the natural progression of things.

Mallory deserves more than this. She should have the world, someone she can love and mean it. She needs a relationship in which she can fall in love like Alison or Danielle and be safe in it. Besides, I couldn’t watch her decide she loves me, then realize she doesn’t. I wouldn’t survive that.

I’ve avoided her today. She’s avoided me too. Getting to the end of this might be easier, and less of my decision, than I thought. That should afford me some relief. Instead, it just winds up my anxiety even worse.

She comes in the suite. Cellophane crinkles through the air and I laugh. She’s such a fucking mess.

“Hey,” she says, poking her head around the door. “I’m going to take off, okay?”

“Is it five already?” I ask, looking at the clock.

“It’s five-thirty, actually. I stayed over to finish up something for your father.”

“Really? I didn’t know anything about that.”

“It’s no big deal,” she says, waving me off. “But I do need to get going.”

“Do you have plans?”

“I have yoga.” She steps inside my office and I almost choke. Skin-tight pants are stretched over her curves while a white shirt hugs her top. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I say, wheezing. Clearing my throat, I imagine her at dinner with Keenan. “Could I ask a favor of you?”

“Sure. I wanted to talk to you anyway,” she says, pulling her eyes away from mine.

My stomach fills with dread. Heavy, foul, infuriating trepidation. “What about? You can come in, if you’d like.”

She considers it for a good bit before taking the steps to the chair across from me. “After today, Ford’s company will be good to go for the most part. I’m just waiting for you to sign the insurance paper and then I’ll get it faxed back.”

I scoot a sheet of paper across the desk. “I signed it. It’s done. I’ll fax it though. It has to get there by six or the offer is void and we’ll have to start from scratch again.”

“I’ll send it,” she says.

“It has to be there before you leave. If not, we won’t be guaranteed that rate and we need that rate to hit budget.”

“Don’t you trust me?” she grins, taking the paper. I look at her warily, but she’s right. I do trust her.

“That being said,” she says, clearing her throat, “I’d like you to replace me. As soon as possible, preferably.”

There’s no sunshine in her face, no ease that I’m used to seeing and that winds the dread even tighter.

“Things between us are too complicated for me to keep coming in here every day. I mean, you . . . I . . . we . . .” She looks at me through her thick lashes, begging me to help.

“I understand.” The air moves between us, as heavy as the dismay I feel, and I want to reach for her, but that’s the problem in and of itself. “I don’t want you to go. Can I say that?”

“You can. And I don’t want to go, for the record,” she sighs. “It’s too hard to come here, and I’m not even making a pun this time,” she smiles weakly. “I never should’ve crossed the line with you because we work together so well. But I did.”

I think back to all the times we crossed the line and realize the most serious ones weren’t the times I was inside her body. They were the times I was inside her mind. When she was burrowing herself inside my heart. That’s what got us to this point. It’s why this conversation feels like

I’m being suffocated. If it were only a physical thing between us, I’d manage. It’s not. It’s becoming so much deeper than that.

“I did too,” I admit.

She nods. “I know a girl, actually, that might be a good fit. I can get her resume, if you’d like.”

But she won’t be you.

This is for the best. I know it, even though I can’t help but hear the scream inside my brain, yelling at me to talk her out of it.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you getting yourself in a situation because you leave your job. I can transfer you. You suggested that before, remember?”

“Yeah. But I really think I just need a clean break from you, Graham. You’re kind of like crack and I need to go cold turkey.”

I grin at her analogy, but there’s no happiness in my smile. “I’ll write you a shining recommendation,” I promise. “I could even help you find another job. You’d be an asset to anyone that would be smart enough to hire you.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I force a swallow. “So, my favor?”

“Sure. Shoot.”

I can hear nothing but white noise as I fill my lungs with air. “Lincoln is getting married this weekend. It’s at the Farm.” I watch her eyes widen, anticipation written all over her pretty face. “Would you do me the honor of being my date?”

“Graham . . .” she says warily.

“You’re going to leave here soon, and let’s be honest, I probably won’t see you again.” My jaw clenches as I say it, but I press forward. “You’ll go live some other life, and I wish you the best with it. But since we’re stuck together for a little while longer, let’s make the best of it. What could it hurt?”

I know the answer. It’s only going to make it hurt worse in the end, but I’m willing, for the second time in my life, to take the hedonistic approach. “Are you sure?” she asks. “It’s your family, and a wedding at that, and I . . .”

“What?”

She shrugs.

“And you’d be my date and I’d be honored to have you on my arm.” When she doesn’t agree, I lean forward. “Don’t make me go alone. My brothers won’t let me live it down.”

Slowly, inch by inch, her face gets a glow of that sunshine I miss. “When you put it like that, I suppose I could help you out.”

“There’s one more part.” There isn’t. That was it. Just the wedding. But seeing how easily she agreed, now I’m going to press my luck. “There’s a golf outing with my brothers the day before. We’re all going. It’ll be a nightmare, but it’s what Lincoln wanted to do. The girls of my family are going to the clubhouse and having a shower for Danielle. I thought maybe you’d like to go on my behalf.”

“What? On your behalf ? That makes no sense, Graham.”

“Yeah,” I say, thinking on my feet. “My mother will be there, both my sisters. Alison and Danielle and a couple of her friends. I thought it would be nice if you went. I know it would mean a lot to Lincoln too.” That last bit is a stretch. Lincoln won’t care. He’s only worried about Danielle and making her happy. Bingo!

“Dani isn’t from here,” I say, laying it on thick. “She doesn’t have a lot of friends here and I know Lincoln really wants us all to come out and support her.”

“I don’t even know her,” she points out.

“Yeah, but she’s heard us all talking about you.” I gulp and prepare to wind a little more truth to this. “It would mean a lot to me.”

She sucks in a breath, warring over her decision.

“Please?”

“Fine,” she exhales. “I’ll do it.”

“Great! I’ll—”

“Not so fast,” she says, waving a finger at me. “I’ll go on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You go to yoga with me tonight.”

“Mallory,” I groan. “Be reasonable.”

“I think this is very reasonable. I’m considering accompanying you to a wedding and a bridal shower for someone I don’t even know. That’s a lot I’m giving you, Graham. You can certainly give me an hour of yoga.”

“I don’t yoga.”

“You’ll yoga just fine.” She stands, nestling her hand in the crook of her hip. She knows what she’s doing because she smirks. “You’ll need to be at the studio by six.” Like the decision has been decided, she takes the insurance papers and bounces to the door. “Oh, and Graham?”

She looks coyly at me.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Don’t be late.”