“Ha! I still got it!” I jumped up from the chair and did a little dance around the office where I’d set up shop in the house. I didn’t care that Erik and Esme could see me shaking my groove thang through the live video stream.

“You’ve definitely got something . . .”

My tweaks to the security system had rendered it impenetrable once again, and my top team of internal hackers, along with Esme and Erik, had failed miserably.

“What I don’t understand is why you won’t take one of the hundreds of offers we get for you to do this for other companies? Do you have any idea how much money you could make?”

“She’s already got plenty of money. Why would she want to go work for someone else and follow their rules, even if it were on a contract basis?” Esme pointed out.

“This is something I do for my personal satisfaction, not for money.”

“But . . .”

“No buts. On to the next subject.”

“Speaking of butts . . . did Mr. Hot Former Cop grow a pair and talk to your brother today to get permission to bang you?”

Esme’s question sent a wave of heat up my cheeks. “We’re not talking about that either.”

Heath texted me this morning to tell me that he and Rhett were having breakfast at ten. A glance at the clock showed that it was now noon and I’d received no updates. Not that I was expecting one, or, you know, Rhett to show up with a giant bouquet of flowers and toss rose petals all over my floor as he led me to bed.

Actually, that would be creepy, despite what I thought when I was eighteen. Officially scratching that one off the fantasy list.

But what if we took that next step and it didn’t come anywhere close to living up to what I’d imagined? I’d expended an undisclosed amount of brain power on how it could be between Rhett and me, and the more I thought about it, the more I was terrified of the possibility of disappointment.

“Uh-oh. I recognize that face. I don’t see it often, but that’s the face of hesitation. Maybe even second thoughts,” Esme whispered.

It took all the adult willpower in my body not to flip off the screen. Both Erik and Esme read me too easily.

“What if . . . what if something happens and . . .” I pressed my lips together, not even wanting to put my fears out in the universe.

“What if it’s not as good as you’ve always hoped it would be?” Esme suggested.

“You think you’ve built this guy up to have a Jack-in-the-beanstalk-level magic cock, and he might just have regular beans?” Erik asked.

Neither waited for me to respond, opting instead to discuss it amongst themselves.

“He can’t suck,” Esme said. “I’ve seen pictures of that guy, and he looks like the real deal.”

Erik speared her with a skeptical look. “Oh, and your track record with identifying winners is so good?”

“Shut up. That was one internet dating experience gone bad. It’s not like—”

I hit the End button on the screen and wondered how long it would take them to realize I’d hung up on them.

I gave it three, two, one . . .

They popped up onscreen again.

“Hey, not fair.”

“Moving on now.”

After knocking out a long list of items I needed to discuss with Erik and Esme, I clicked out of the video conference and looked at the time. Two more hours had passed, and still no word from Rhett or Heath.

Okay, I’m just pathetic. I’ve got plenty of things to do to keep me busy, and none of them involve mooning over Rhett Hennessy.

Years ago, I’d spent way too much time up in my tiny room, staring out the window at the Hennessys’ driveway and front yard, hoping for a glimpse of Rhett coming or going from school or practice or . . . ugh, on dates. Instead of studying and preparing to rock my future life, I’d make up stories about how Rhett would scale the chimney and sneak in through my window and tell me he couldn’t live without me. Followed by him carrying me out of my childhood bedroom and down the stairs without getting shot by my dad.

Needless to say, that had never happened. What did happen was watching Rhett bring his senior prom date, Valerie Hebert, to his parents’ house after picking her up so his mom could take pictures of them in front of the blooming magnolia tree out front. The day before, Valerie had spent a good twenty minutes preening in the girls’ locker room after PE, smiling smugly about how Rhett Hennessy was going to try to hit a home run after prom, and she was thinking about letting him.

She still had that smug look on her face before he led her to the passenger side door of his dad’s classic Corvette and helped her inside.

I’d been near tears and ready to give up my hopes and dreams about all things Rhett Hennessy at the thought of them together in some hotel room, when the long skirt of her pink princess dress had touched the exhaust pipe running under the door. It melted instantly, ruining her perfect look and causing a bloodcurdling scream to echo through the neighborhood.

Now, I hadn’t been rejoicing at any girl’s dream prom getting ruined, but from the way she’d lit into Rhett in front of his entire family, and the way he’d looked skyward as if searching for patience and had accidentally met my gaze through the panes of my bedroom window . . . I knew that he wasn’t going to be scoring any runs that night, and I’d felt marginally better.

Then I’d let myself daydream about what it would be like for Rhett to show up and take me to my senior prom.

Spoiler alert—he hadn’t.

I’d gone with Donny Jenkins, who’d tried to shove his hand up my dress as I walked out to his car. I had to tell him my brother was the top shooter from his academy class and would happily put holes in him if he tried it again. Donny had left me in the parking lot, and I’d had to get a ride home with all the girls who’d gone stag. I’d never heard from him again.

Maybe I should have said something similar to Carlos . . .

To this day, I wondered if Donny had crapped his pants as he’d run to his mom’s Suburban and torn out of the parking lot. I’d never thought about him since.

Ah . . . trips down memory lane. So not useful.

I stood up, stretched my arms behind my back, and shook out my wrists to prevent carpal tunnel. Then I walked into the kitchen to dig up some food before I got back to work.

Waiting on Rhett Hennessy was like hoping your hair wouldn’t frizz up in the Louisiana humidity—pointless and frustrating.

With a bowl of stir fry in front of me, I went back to work, determined to knock out everything on my to-do list before I let my mind wander in the direction of Rhett Hennessy again. Since my track record of being able to stop thinking about him was so great.

Resolute, I shoved in my earbuds and crunched into a piece of broccoli as I opened the document I needed to review to decide whether to invest in a new start-up. They had an app that they claimed would become as addictive as Facebook and Instagram.

I’ve got an empire to build. Watch out, world.

---

I’d lost track of time while being wildly productive, electing to invest a couple hundred thousand dollars in the first start-up and another half million in another company. Reviewing other people’s business plans and proposals always made me proud of what I’d accomplished. Had I taken a different path, I would have been applying to people for angel financing, giving up over half of my equity stake just for a shot at making it.

Instead, I’d taken a big risk that could have blown up in my face. I cashed out my college tuition account and used that instead of fake money during the day-trading portion of my finance class. I was either going to be a dropout or a success, and luckily, I’d learned I had a solid gut instinct and could recognize patterns. I’d tripled my money, paid my next semester’s tuition, and used the profit to hire a couple of friends to help develop my first successful apps.

My phone lit up, its vibrations carrying through the table to get my attention.

---

Unknown Number: Your plane ticket home is in your email. We’ll be discussing the situation you raised last night in person.

---

I’d blocked Carlos’s number on my phone, so while it didn’t surprise me he was texting me from another number, it pissed me off.

Oh. Hell. No.

As I picked up my phone to reply something along the lines of No way in hell am I coming home and We have nothing to discuss because there is no us, Carver came into the room.

“Ms. Sampson? You have a visitor at the gate. Shall I let Mr. Hennessy in?”

I sat my phone on the table and stood. “Rhett Hennessy?” Yeah, as if some other Hennessy was going to show up at my door.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mentally, I tugged up my big-girl thong and straightened my shoulders. “Sure. Let him in. Feel free to give us some privacy, Carver.” My gaze landed on him long enough to ensure he got the message loud and clear. “When Mr. Hennessy is around, I’m not under any security threat, so consider yourself off duty.”

No matter what else ever happened with Rhett, I knew those words were unfailingly true. He would protect me with his life.

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll let him in, and will be in my apartment if you need anything at all.”

“Thank you, Carver.”

“Of course, Ms. Sampson.”

He strode away, and I looked down at what I was wearing. A Namaste in Bed T-shirt that had caught a splash of soy sauce during lunch, and sweats I’d turned into cutoffs with a dull pair of scissors.

Looking hot, Ari.

But I’d been working all day, and part of being the boss meant I got to wear whatever I wanted when I was in beast mode. Which was all the time. I might be a geek, but I’m always a beast-geek.

Rhett was going to get the real me. No makeup, my hair a little wild from putting it up and taking it down as I mulled over decisions, and a hot mess of an outfit. I was too old and too awesome to worry about being someone else.

With that positive thought firmly fixed in my mind, I tried to calm down the flock of seagulls that took up residence in my belly as the doorbell rang. Rhett Hennessy was on my doorstep.

Be cool, Ari. Be cool.

Okay, scratch that.

Pretend.