To say I lacked enthusiasm for the new work week would have been a severe understatement. I had to check my feet more than once on the walk from the parking lot to the building just to make sure I hadn’t accidentally tied cinderblocks to my ankles.

I dragged myself into my office and was relieved to see that Rory was away from her desk. She had a tendency to want to spend the first five minutes of the morning catching up on our weekend activities. Of course, the ratio was always four minutes to one minute, her weekend to mine, because she had a glowing life and mine was always lackluster. For a change, I had enough adventure to fill the four minute slot, only my heart wasn’t in it. Mostly because I’d left it behind, tattered and torn, at the Silk Stocking Inn.

Once I’d gotten over the initial sting of having Turner leave the inn without so much as a good-bye, I’d driven away with a heavy head and heart. The moment I’d turned away from the coast and headed in the direction of the freeway, I’d lost sight of the inn and Barbary Cove completely. Everything began to look familiar again, and I easily found my way back home where I promptly sat down at the computer to search online for more information about the Silk Stocking Inn and Barbary Cove. I couldn’t find a darn thing. It was as if they’d never existed. The only real proof I had was the pink bakery box with the Silk Stocking Inn label and the sublime cupcakes packed inside. Of course, in my sullen state of mind, I’d left the box sitting on the kitchen counter.

I circled around to my chair. I turned on my computer and watched anxiously for it to start up. I sat back with disappointment as my regular desktop popped up. I had no idea why I thought the Silk Stocking Inn website would appear or how seeing it would help my mood. It seemed, more than anything, I just wanted to know that it had all been real, that I hadn’t just slept through the weekend and participated in a really long dream.

I picked up the files I’d left on my desk for Monday morning. The best way for me to shake off the dark mood was to throw myself into my work. I reminded myself more than once that the weekend had been just a fantasy filled few days of great food and amazing sex. I’d deserved it. And if I could just get Turner out of my head, I could tuck away my unusual weekend as a really fond memory.

I clicked on my digital day planner and groaned at the pop-up reminder about the ten o’clock meeting. It was definitely one of those days where I’d have preferred to sit alone with my ideas and thoughts, working on designs.

Rory knocked and entered with a cup of steaming coffee. “It’s extra strong today,” she started and then stopped when she reached my desk and got a good look at me. “And from the looks of it, this won’t be the only cup of the morning. What’s wrong? Bad weekend?”

As she spoke, some of the other staff members hurried past my office, talking in excited voices.

I turned my focus back to Rory. “Actually, I had the best weekend of my life.”

Rory’s face lit up as she plopped into the chair in front of my desk. “I only have five minutes, but don’t leave out one sweet detail.”

I shook my head. “It’ll take longer than five and I just can’t. Not now, anyhow. I’m sort of trying to piece it all together first.”

She leaned forward. “Ginger? What on earth? You look almost stricken as if you’ve lost your best friend or something. Which I know can’t be the case because your BFF is sitting right here in front of you. We’re going to need to talk. I’ll order lunch to be delivered so we can eat here at your desk.” She hopped up. “Oh, and some of the board members are going to have a tour of the design center today. Just to let you know.”

My shoulders sank right along with the rest of me. “I wish they’d just stay in their penthouses and on their yachts and leave us alone to do our work.”

Two of the assistants from the mail room went rushing past my door.

“Where the hell is everyone running to?”

“Huh?” Rory turned around just as another group scurried past. “Oh, they’re all heading down to the first floor to watch.”

“Watch what?”

Rory’s eyes rounded. “You haven’t heard? A bird flew in through the glass doors and it’s flying around the lobby.”

“Big deal. That’s happened before.”

“Yes, but this time it’s not just a pigeon. It’s a parrot and apparently it keeps calling out ‘pretty girl’.”

I sat there so stunned I couldn’t find my tongue.

Rory blinked down at me. “Are you all right?”

“Did you say a parrot?”

“I think so. But then I’m no bird expert. It’s green and it can talk.”

I shot out of my seat before she could ask where I was going. I headed for the elevator. I heard Rory’s heels clicking over the floor as she hurried to catch up to me.

“I had no idea you were so interested in birds,” she said as the elevator doors opened. Several of our coworkers were inside.

“Is the parrot still flying around?” I asked, out of breath from anticipation.

“No, the bird has been caught,” Patty from the mailroom blurted as she stepped off the elevator.

My heart sank, and I wondered if it was just a bizarre coincidence.

“But you should see the dark haired hunk who caught the bird, or I guess maybe he owned the parrot because it flew right to his shoulder.”

“Turner.” I dashed into the open elevator. Rory followed with a look of concern.

I smacked the lobby button and the doors slid shut.

“Ginger, what the heck is going on? You’ve got me worried sick.”

“I’m sorry, Rory, but this weekend I met a man—” The doors slid open cutting short my rushed attempt at an explanation. I stepped out. Only a few of the early spectators were lingering. Most had returned to their offices and their desks. The one face I wanted to see was not anywhere to be seen.

I looked frantically around but there was no parrot and no Turner. I headed toward the glass doors wondering if he was asked to leave the building. It would make sense.

I raced outside and turned instinctively toward the parking lot.

“Awk! Pretty girl!” Dexter screeched from behind.

I spun around. Turner looked completely out of place on a busy city sidewalk with his long hair and slight swagger.

“I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye,” Turner said.

I shook my head. “Coco said you had gone out to help another fishing boat.” I walked toward him. Rory and a few of our coworkers had stepped outside to see where I’d run off to. She shot me a questioning look as I passed her.

I reached Turner and realized my heart was pounding so hard I could almost hear it.

“So, is that all you’re here for?” I asked. “A good-bye?”

“Yes.” He took hold of my hand and pulled me closer. “But I was hoping it wasn’t a permanent good-bye.”

“I’m hoping that too.”

“Good. Then, I guess this is hello too.” He kissed me to a round of applause from my coworkers and encouraging squawks from the parrot on his shoulder.