I should have listened to Muriella. I’d spent the last few hours in her apartment lamenting over the conversation with Daniel. She’d been level-headed and logical when it came to him and that autopsy, whereas I’d bulldozed through it straight to the wrong conclusion. I had to try to make it right.

My feet carried me up the stairs from M’s apartment to Daniel’s door. I raised my fist to knock and then thought better of it, digging in my purse for a pen and a piece of paper. I scribbled the words ‘I’m sorry’ on it and slid the note under the door. I couldn’t stand that I’d hurt Daniel, and even if he wanted nothing to do with me, I needed to apologize.

The elevator doors opened, and Giselle stepped out. I’d have preferred being struck in the head with a blunt object.

“Vivian,” she said brightly, her smile so friendly that a wobbly one formed on my lips. “Daniel didn’t mention you were coming over for dinner. He’s not home yet, but if you’d like to come in…” Her offer was genuine. She took out a set of keys and opened the front door. “Vivian? Are you all right?”

“I have to go,” I croaked, pressing the call button for the elevator, which mercifully was still there.

I stepped inside and leaned against the side wall for support. Muriella and I were wrong. He was serious about her. She had a key to our house.

My heart beat frantically in my chest. It was hard to breathe, but somehow I pushed air in and out of my lungs. Calm down, Vivian.

“Why? Why the fuck should I calm down?” I asked out loud as the elevator came to a stop on the ground floor. The doors slid open, but my feet didn’t move, and Daniel stepped inside, starting when he saw me huddled in the corner.

He stiffened, his expression turning arctic. “I told you to be gone.”

Those words injected me with anger, and I straightened, stepping into his space. “I know what I accused—”

“Assumed,” he interjected. Our eyes warred with one another.

“Assumed earlier. For that, I understand why you’re upset with me. I’m sorry. I’m not going to stand here and feed you all the excuses for why I came to the conclusion I did. Regardless of how you feel about me now, I know that hurt you, and I can’t stand I did that,” I said, softening my tone.

Daniel said nothing, an unreadable look on his face.

“But I refuse to let you treat me as if I’m rotten garbage. You left me out of the blue. Under the circumstances, I think I’ve handled it pretty fucking well. Until you tell me exactly what happened, don’t speak to me like I’m nothing. Like we didn’t just spend nearly a decade sharing a life. Because we did. You haven’t forgotten that. You’re just really good at pretending it didn’t happen.”

Still nothing from him.

“So go on upstairs, but we both know, when you walk in that door, you’ll wish it was me on the other side. When she kisses you, it will be me you’re kissing. When you go to sleep, it’s me you’ll be holding in your arms.” I struggled to hold myself together as images of him with another woman pierced my mind. “I’m wrong about a lot of things, but not about us. What we have doesn’t just die. I know you feel our separation. Right here.” I put my hand on his heart, and he stopped breathing, like he did when we first met. He gripped my wrist, panic in his eyes. My pulse throbbed against his fingers. “Even if we never see each other again, it will never be over. Never.”

I pressed a button on the panel, and the doors opened on the lobby. Daniel released my wrist abruptly, and I ignored the pain that spread across my chest. Without looking back, I exited with my head held high when all I really wanted to do was curl into a ball on the floor. Outside, I was so lost in thought from the roller coaster of the day’s events, I didn’t notice the pickup truck slow to a crawl beside me until I heard the hum of the window roll down. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I saw who was behind the wheel.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Need a ride, stranger?”

The passenger door was opened from inside, and I climbed in. “Nice choice in music,” I said. Johnny Cash blared about going down in the ring of fire. A calloused hand turned down the volume a notch. “And you’re the stranger.”

Stone Jacobs gave me the panty-melting grin that had won over the women of the world when he flashed it on the big screen. In person, it was even more devastating. The hottest thing in Hollywood leaned over and kissed my cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Vivian.” He was a native Texan, a connection that had bonded us from the start.

“I know you haven’t been in town more than five minutes without calling us,” I scolded, and then my face fell as I realized I’d referred to me and Daniel as a couple when we no longer were.

“Where’s the big man?” he asked casually.

I swallowed hard, unable to mask my reaction. My heart felt like it had been punched by a fist with brass knuckle rings. “We broke up.”

He took a few beats to just stare at me. Then he finally asked, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

Stone flipped up the center console, hooked an arm around my back, and pulled me to him, pressing my head to his chest. Underneath all that sex symbol, celebrity status was just a good old country boy, who was a decent and simple man. Daniel had met him six years ago at a poker night put on by one of the studio executives. They’d hit it off over expensive whiskey and their disdain for social functions with virtual strangers, both finding themselves at the party out of professional necessity. Whiskey was the great unifier, or at least reason enough to become friends, and Daniel invited him to our home for dinner in an unprecedented move. He’d been part of our inner circle ever since.

Stone had been busy over the last couple of years, so we didn’t see him as often as we’d have liked. We’d gone on annual trips together, but lately his schedule was so jam-packed, he’d had to cancel. Seeing him now, it hit me how much I’d missed our friend. I hated that his crazy life had caused us to drift apart. I hoped we could rectify that situation sooner rather than later.

“How do you feel about taking a drive?” he asked me.

“Beats the hell out of going to an empty apartment.” He was a godsend. I needed a distraction, and a friend.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Stone said, putting the truck in gear and pulling into traffic.

As he drove uptown for a while, I unloaded the whole depressing tale on him. As I listened to myself, I still couldn’t believe it. “It’s inconceivable to me he could have already moved on, but by all appearances he has.”

“Nah. There’s no way in hell he’s really with this chick. He doesn’t have to say a damn word to communicate how he feels about you, V. That doesn’t just go away,” he insisted, maneuvering around Columbus Circle three times just for the hell of it.

“I don’t know how to get him back. I can’t even get through to him.” I rolled the window down and stuck my head out, letting the cool night air hit my face. Stone used the controls on his side of the truck to begin rolling it back up. “What are you doing?” I yelped, retracting my head inside the cab.

“You’re polluting my truck,” he said before he grinned and powered the window back down.

“You almost chopped my head off,” I protested dramatically.

He ruffled my hair like I was his kid sister. “Aww, it wasn’t that close.”

He laughed, and after a few seconds, I joined him, the sound foreign to my ears.

“Thanks for the distraction.”

“You’re welcome. If you figure out a way I can help, let me know.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “How’s Muriella?”

It was dark, but I could see his eyes shining with interest. He’d never pushed her—partly because Daniel had warned him off—despite having a crush on her since the first time he’d seen her.

“You should call her and ask yourself.”

“I’d rather see her in person.”

I bet you would, Cowboy. “You’ve always struck me as the kind of man who goes after what he wants. What have you been waiting on?” I asked bluntly. It was rare to have a one-on-one conversation without Daniel or Muriella around. I could have said something before—we were close enough for that—but I had been reluctant to put Muriella in that position, even if it was for her own good.

He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “There’s no one way to draw out a skittish horse. Each one requires its own special touch.” Stone turned toward me, his expression serious. “Muriella hasn’t been ready.” I didn’t disagree, but on the other hand, he couldn’t wait forever. “If I’d forced it, I’d have lost her for good.”

“All of that’s true. I don’t want her to get hurt—”

“I would never hurt her,” Stone growled, teeth grinding.

“I wasn’t insinuating you would.” I paused, trying to best explain things without taking away Muriella’s right to tell her own story. “It’s delicate.”

“Daniel’s made that perfectly clear,” he said almost bitterly. “But I’m done waiting. There’s a time when you either take the leap or stay on solid ground and get nowhere.”

I placed a hand on his forearm. “Just—hell, you know what to do. I’m the last person to be giving advice anyway.”

The tension in his face faded, and he gave me a sheepish grin. “Think you could put in a good word for me?”

“I can do better than that.”