“Okay, well that’s everything.”  Jane lugged her suitcase down the stairs and set it in the hallway.

“You should have let me help you carry that down,” Amy said as Jane followed her into the kitchen.

“You were in a car accident two days ago.  You need to rest.”

Amy poured some tea into two mugs before passing one to Jane.  “I’m fine.  I have some mild bruising from the seat belt and that’s it.  Where’s Luke tonight?”

Jane sat at the island and sipped at her tea.  “He’s helping your dad fix their washing machine.  Luke wanted to just buy him a new one, but your mom refused.”

Amy laughed.  “That washing machine is older than me.  I swear.”

“He had dinner with Mark earlier and he invited him to come by your parents,” Jane said.  “Apparently, your dad has started watching hockey now and wants Mark and Luke to get into it too.  Mark had other plans though.”

Amy didn’t reply.  Her stomach had clenched painfully when Jane mentioned Mark’s name.  She wondered bleakly if she’d ever stop having such a visceral reaction to hearing his name.  God, she was already dreading the family dinner tomorrow night.  Before he left Friday morning, Mark had asked her if she was okay with him joining them on Sunday nights again.  She had said it was fine.  A decision she was regretting immensely.  Maybe she could beg off from dinner this weekend, say she was too sore.

“Amy?”  Jane’s warm hand covered hers.  “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

She pressed her lips together.  “Nothing’s wrong.  Just tired today.”

“Are you – is everything okay with Mark now?  Luke told me he stayed with you after the accident.  Are you, uh…”

“Everything’s fine with us.  We’re not fighting anymore.  In fact, we’re back to being friends like nothing ever happened.  Like we have no idea what each other looks like - ”

To her horror and shame, she burst into tears.  Jane hurried around the island and put her arm around her shoulder.  “I’m sorry, honey.”

She rested her head on top of Amy’s.  “I know you don’t want to talk to me about Mark, but if you ever change your mind – I’m here and I’m a good listener.”

Amy wiped at her face and stared at Jane for a moment.  “I want to tell you.”

Jane kissed her forehead and squeezed her shoulder.  “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“You can’t tell Luke.”

It was just over an hour later.  After telling Jane everything, little tendrils of regret were already worming their way into her stomach.  What had she been thinking?  Jane was Luke’s girlfriend.  Of course, she would tell him.  She’d been desperate to tell someone, she was so tired of keeping her love for Mark a secret, but she should have told Valerie. 

“Amy?”

She jerked when Jane touched her hand.  “What did you say?”

“I said not to look so worried.  I won’t tell Luke.”

“I shouldn’t have told you,” Amy said.  “It’s not fair of me to ask you to keep something like this from Luke.”

Jane shrugged.  “You might be his sister but that doesn’t mean he has the right to know every detail of your life.  I’m glad you told me, and I promise I won’t say a word to your brother or to anyone.”

“Thanks, Janie,” Amy said.

“You’re welcome.  Now, are you sure that Mark really just wants to be friends again?”

“Yes.  I told him I would play at the club with someone else and he – he was fine with it.  All he said was to tell him, so he could find the right Dom for me.  Remember?”

“I remember,” Jane said.  She tapped one short nail against the island.  “But I’m doubtful he meant it.  There’s only one way to find out.”

Amy’s mouth dropped open.  “You think I should test him?”

“I’m saying it’s an option,” Jane said.  “Unless you really do want to just experiment and want to move on from Mark?  In that case, maybe pick a different BDSM club to experiment.  It would get weird if Mark walked in on a play session.”

“I – how much of this lifestyle do you know?”

“A fair amount, actually,” Jane said.  “A few of the girls I worked with at Teasers were into BDSM.  I don’t think they went to Secrets though.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully.  “I can’t remember the name of the club but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Secrets.  Anyway, they weren’t shy about sharing what happened and I was curious.”

“Have you ever tried it?”  Amy asked.  “Wait, sorry, that isn’t any of my business.”

Jane grinned at her.  “I don’t mind and no, I haven’t tried it.  It’s not really my kink.  But that doesn’t mean it’s weird or sick.”

“I know.”

“Do you?  Because when you were telling me how this all started and what Tom said to you, you looked like you might barf.”

Amy groaned and rubbed her hands against her thighs.  “I – I don’t know.  I always knew I was somewhat submissive, you know?  I had a couple boyfriends who would kind of pin me down during sex if I asked, and I liked it.  One guy even slapped my ass a few times.  He didn’t do it hard - he couldn’t seem to work up the nerve to do it hard - but holy crap, it turned me on.  I mean, embarrassingly so.  I couldn’t hide how much it turned me on, and I think that kind of freaked him out.  He broke up with me, like, two weeks later.”

She suddenly blushed.  “I’m sorry, this is really TMI.”

“I don’t mind,” Jane said.  “I know I give off a good girl vibe, but I worked at a strip club for years.  Nothing you say can shock me.”

“Anyway, I’ve never had a boyfriend even remotely interested in this kind of thing and I’ve always thought I was a bit of a freak for even liking the idea of being,” she paused, “spanked.”

She peeked at Jane, looking for disgust on the woman’s face.  Jane just smiled and made a go on gesture.  Feeling a little more confident, she said, “When Mark said he was into impact play, that he, um, liked to leave marks, it turned me on.  A lot.  But I don’t know if it’s only the idea of being spanked that turns me on or the actual act.  You know?  And Mark made it clear that he doesn’t do vanilla sex.”

She stood and paced back and forth.  “Even if I could convince Mark to try the, uh, more hardcore stuff with me, what if I didn’t actually like it?  Our chance at a relationship would be over before it even started.”

“But what if you did really like it?”

“I still couldn’t be with Mark,” Amy said.  “It’s only one of the reasons he won’t have a relationship with me, remember?  He’s convinced himself that we won’t work out and he’ll lose my parents and Luke.  Or, even if we did work out, he’ll lose Luke because Luke is so overprotective of me and won’t approve of us dating.”

“He has a point about the overprotectiveness,” Jane said.  “Remember when Pierre and Julien were hitting on you?”

She suddenly giggled.  “Oh man, I had my hands on both Mark and Luke that night, trying to stop them from killing those poor French boys.  They have no idea that they have me to thank for keeping them from being murdered.”

Amy dropped into her chair.  “It’s pointless to even think about being with Mark.  I agreed to just be friends with him.”

“Okay, well, back to my earlier question – are you interested in seeing if you want more of the BDSM?  I mean, you can’t have Mark, but that doesn’t mean you can’t investigate the lifestyle.  If you’re truly only going to be friends with Mark, then maybe finding a Dom to show you new things isn’t a bad idea.  It might help you forget about Mark.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“But I don’t think you should go back to Secrets,” Jane said.

“Mark doesn’t care,” Amy said.  “He was so casual about it, like it didn’t matter to him at all that I would be with someone else.”

“Again – you believe that?”

Amy hesitated before nodding.  “Yeah, I think I do.  There was this – this almost finality about the conversation, you know?  Like, Mark had finally, once and for all, closed down the idea of us being anything more than friends.  He had a taste of what we could be together and that was enough for him.”

“I still don’t think you should go back to Secrets,” Jane said.  “I can text Candy and ask her the name of the other club.”

“Sure,” Amy said.  “Thanks, Jane.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

“I’m sorry to dump this all on you.”

“You haven’t,” Jane said.  “Honestly, I’m really glad you did.  Keeping it bottled up like that isn’t healthy.  Any time you want to talk about Mark or your feelings, or what it was like getting your butt spanked, you just text me.”

Amy gaped at her before laughing.  Jane grinned at her and took a sip of tea.  “Any time, honey.  I mean it.”

 

* * *

 

“Amy?”

She glanced up from the mannequin in her office and pasted a smile on her face.  “Hey, Mark.  Come on in.”

“You have a minute?”

“I do.”  She pinned another piece of fabric to the mannequin’s body and tried not to stiffen when Mark stood next to her.

“That looks good.”

“Thanks.  What’s up?”

He lowered his voice. “Are we still good?”

She gave him a quick glance.  “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t been at the family dinner for two weeks in a row.  If it’s uncomfortable with me there, I can stop going.”

“What? No, it’s fine,” she lied.  “I didn’t go the week before last because I was still a little sore from the car accident, and last Sunday I had plans with Valerie.”

“It’s not because of me?”

“Of course not,” she lied again.  “I’m glad you’re coming to family dinners again.”

He studied her for so long that her back started to get sweaty.  “So, you’ll be at family dinner this week?”

“Sure will,” she said.  “How about you?”

He nodded, and she smiled until her cheeks hurt.  “Awesome.”

God, would he please just leave?  There was at least two feet between them, but it was still too close for her.  She pinned the fabric with an aggressive push.  The pin slid through the fabric and into her finger and she winced and yanked her hand away.

“Dammit!”

“Let me see.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just - ”

Her voice died when Mark took her hand and peered at her finger.  “Shit, it’s really bleeding, Ames.”

“It’s fine.”  Her voice was so soft and breathy, you would have thought he was sticking his hand up her skirt.  Her need for him was embarrassing in its intensity.

She tried to pull her hand away and bit her bottom lip when he wouldn’t let go.  “I’m serious.  It’s really bleeding.”

“I have Band-aids in my desk,” she said.

She tugged her hand free and hurried over to her desk.  Mark followed her, and he opened the top drawer and grabbed the little packet of Band-aids.  He tore the wrapper off before grabbing a tissue from the top of her desk.  The blood was already starting to clot but she could feel the pulse in the tip of her finger, throbbing in time with the increasing beat of her heart.

Would she ever not feel this all-encompassing need when she was around Mark?  Would she ever have a moment where she didn’t stand next to him and wish she could touch him?

Mark wiped away the blood, smiling at her when she winced.  “Sorry.”

He placed the Band-aid on her finger but didn’t immediately let go of her hand.  He was standing so close to her now. 

She wanted to smooth her hand over that broad chest.   She wanted to loosen his tie and taste the skin at the base of his throat.  She wanted to slide her hand into his pants and grip the cock that gave her so much pleasure.

She wanted.

“Amy?  Are you sure we’re good?  I know I sound like a broken record, but I - ”

“We’re good.”  The lie struggled from her throat like the thin shoots of a plant fighting to push through the dark earth.

She pulled her hand away and returned to the mannequin before Mark could see the way her nipples were poking against her shirt. 

There was a knock on her door and the head of HR, Maria, stuck her head into the room.  “Hey, Amy?  Do you have a minute to…oh good, Mark, you’re here too.  Can I introduce you to our newest employee?”

“Sure,” Amy said.  She turned around as Maria stepped into her office.  A short redheaded woman followed her.  She was wearing a dark green Dawson suit and she tugged self-consciously at the hem of the suit jacket.  She was slender with the pale skin of a redhead.  Clusters of freckles covered the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. 

Maria smiled at the woman.  “This is - ”

“Chloe?”

The redhead turned toward the sound of Mark’s voice.  Her eyes widened in recognition, and Amy’s stomach knotted when delight crossed her face.  “Mark!”

Mark moved toward her and after a moment of awkwardness, he and Chloe hugged.  The knots in Amy’s stomach would have made a Boy Scout proud.  She put her hands behind her back and clenched them into fists as Mark smiled at Chloe.

“You work here now?”

“Yes,” Chloe said with a quick glance at Maria.  “I was hired last week.  I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Chloe is working on the overhaul of our digital storefront.  We’re still interviewing for the other half of the team, but I knew Chloe would be perfect the minute I saw her resume,” Maria said.  “How do you guys know each other?”

The look on both Mark and Chloe’s faces confirmed Amy’s immediate suspicion.  Mark knew her from the club, and the warm intimacy in which he greeted her meant that he’d probably seen her naked. 

Mark had probably spanked her and fucked her and made her come.

Bile rose in her throat.  She swallowed it down, her nails digging into the palms of her hands.

“Oh, um,” Chloe hesitated, her gaze on Mark clearly pleading with him for help.

“We met through mutual friends,” Mark said.

He was lying.  Amy had known him long enough to recognize it.

“Isn’t that nice,” Maria said.  “Amy, this is Chloe.  She’s working - ”

“I heard,” Amy said.

She could hear the edge in her voice.  Maria cleared her throat.  “Right.  Well, Chloe Matthews, this is Amy Dawson.  I know you know who she is.”  She gave Chloe a little grin and the redhead’s face turned a pale pink.

She held her hand out and Amy shook it briefly.  “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Ms. Dawson,” Chloe said.  “I’m a big fan of your work and I - ”

“That’s nice.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy,” Amy said.

Her stiff smile made Chloe’s falter.  The redhead took a step back.  “Of course, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Amy didn’t reply.  Maria touched Chloe’s arm.  “Okay, let’s introduce you to the design team and then I’ll take you back to your office.  Oh, Mark, Kyla is looking for you.  Something about the quarterly reports not on the server.”

“What?  Shit.”  Mark hurried out of the office without saying goodbye.

“See you later, Amy,” Maria said.

“Bye,” Amy turned back to the mannequin.  When she heard the door shut, she crossed the office and nearly fell into one of the beanbag chairs.  She felt sick to her stomach and she closed her eyes, pressing her hand against one flame-coloured cheek.

Images of Chloe, her slender, perfect body sitting astride Mark, as he held her hands behind her back and fucked her, flooded through her almost immediately.  Her eyes flew open and she dropped both hands to the beanbag chair and dug her fingers into the leather.

“Stop it, Amy!”  Her voice was too loud in the quiet.  “Even if he does know her from there, it doesn’t mean he’s been with her.  Just, fucking cool it and don’t be such a jealous bitch.  Even if he has slept with her, it’s none of your business.  He doesn’t belong to you.”

Her voice cracked, and hot tears threatened.  She blinked them back savagely.  She would not cry over Mark.  Not today.

 

* * *

 

“Ma’am?  Your sandwich is ready.”

Chloe smiled at the man standing behind the counter at the café and took the sandwich.  “Thank you.”

She crossed the crowded café and found a seat at a table for two near the door.  She opened her bottle of water and took a drink before unwrapping her sandwich and placing the paper napkin in her lap. 

It was only her second day at Dawson Clothing and she was feeling a little overwhelmed.  The company was large, and she’d met so many new people yesterday, her head was still spinning.  She was barely able to contain her excitement at finally meeting her idol, Amy Dawson, but the woman’s reaction had been cold and bordering on rude. 

She bit into her sandwich and chewed slowly as she watched the people scurrying down the street.  Disappointment etched through her.  She’d been so excited to meet the Amy Dawson.  It wasn’t the only reason she had applied for the job at Dawson Clothing, but she’d be lying if she didn’t say it was a big part of it.  Too bad it wasn’t exactly like she’d pictured it happening.  They were right when they said it was better not to meet your idol.

Maybe if you hadn’t pictured you and Ms. Dawson becoming instant friends, it might not have been so disappointing.  Did you really believe that you could somehow work into your very first conversation that you loved to design clothes?  That you’ve dreamed of being a designer for Dawson Clothing practically since the company started?  You’re losing it.  You don’t even have any schooling for design.  You were hired for your marketing skills, remember?

“Chloe?”

She glanced up to see Mark standing next to her table.  He held a bottle of water and a wrap in his hand and she smiled at him.  “Hi, Mark.  Have a seat.”

“Thanks.”  He sat down across from her.  “This place is always swamped.  How’s your second day going?”

“Good,” she said.  “Listen, I’m sorry about yesterday and how weird it got in Ms. Dawson’s office.  I was not expecting to see you there.”

He grinned at her.  “It was a surprise to me too.”

“I didn’t even know what to say when Maria asked how we knew each other,” Chloe said.  “Do you think she noticed my ‘deer in the headlights’ look?”

Mark’s grin turned into a laugh.  “Maybe?  Maria’s a pretty sharp lady.”

“Crap,” Chloe said.

“It’s no big deal.”

“Do they know you attend Al-Anon meetings?”  Chloe asked.

Mark took a drink of water.  “No.  But it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they found out.  Amy knows about my brother, so she wouldn’t be surprised, and Maria is in HR.  She doesn’t gossip.”

“That’s good.  But, uh, I don’t want my new coworkers knowing about the Al-Anon thing,” Chloe said.

“I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.  So, you know Ms. Dawson outside of work?”

“Yes.  Luke is my best friend and has been since we were kids.  I practically grew up with him and Amy.  We started Dawson Clothing together.”

“That’s cool.  Amy’s a really talented designer.”

“She is,” Mark said.  “She’s been designing clothing since she was a teenager.”

He ate another bite of his wrap.  “So, I haven’t seen you at a meeting in a few weeks.”

Chloe could feel her traitorous pale skin turning pink.  “Uh, yeah, I’ve been busy with finding a new job.  Have you heard from your brother lately?”

“No, not for a couple months,” Mark said.  “I drove through the Badlands about three weeks ago and spotted him over by the Dartmouth Motel.  I tried to talk to him, but he ducked into a room and wouldn’t open the door.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said.

“At least I know he’s alive, right?  Or at least he was three weeks ago.”

Mark pushed the rest of his wrap away.  “How is your sister doing in rehab?”

Chloe studied her sandwich.  She didn’t want to tell Mark about Lori.  It made her feel like a failure.

“Chloe?  How is Lori doing?”

“She left rehab two weeks ago.”

“Shit.  I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”  Chloe ripped thin strips of paper from her napkin.  “She was doing so well.  I even visited her at the rehab place a couple of weeks before that.  She looked good, you know?  Even just two months without the booze had made a difference.  She was talking about her future and how she was going to go back to school and…”

Her voice broke and she dabbed at her eyes with what was left of her napkin.

“I’m sorry, Chloe.”

Mark’s hand took hers and she held it in a hard grip before glancing up at him.  “She’s back on the booze.  She’s staying with my grandma again and – and drinking all day.”

Her bottom lip trembled, and she squeezed Mark’s hand again.  “My grandmother just keeps giving her the alcohol like Lori doesn’t have a problem.  She doesn’t care that - ”

She needed to stop talking about this before she wept like a damn baby.  Not that Mark hadn’t seen her cry over her sister before.  But there was a big difference between crying in front of him at an Al-Anon meeting and crying in front of him when he was her new boss.

She sniffed and wiped at her face again.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  They were still holding hands and she stared at their linked fingers as he said, “Is that why you haven’t been to a meeting lately?”

“Yeah.  I’m embarrassed and I feel like it’s my fault that she failed again.”

“It isn’t.  You know it isn’t,” Mark said.  “You need to come back to a meeting.  No one is judging you for your sister’s actions.  We’ve all been there, remember?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Mark reached out and took her other hand.  The door to the café opened bringing with it a swirl of cold air that made her shiver.  “It’s not your fault, Chloe.”

“Thanks, Mark.  I appreciate that.”

She shouldn’t have heard the harsh gasp, not over the babble of voices in the crowded café, but she did.  She glanced up to see Amy Dawson standing just inside the door.  Her cheeks were red from the cold and she was clutching her purse in front of her.  She was staring at their linked hands and when she raised her gaze to meet Chloe’s, there was something very close to hatred in her eyes.

“Ms. Dawson?”  Chloe said.

Mark immediately dropped her hands and twisted in his seat.  “Amy?  Hey, how are you?  You should have told me you were coming here for lunch.  I would have waited for you.”

Her smile was cold, but the heat in her gaze could have melted a rock.  “Hello, Mark.  Hello, Ms. Matthews.”

“Hi,” Chloe said.  “Why don’t you join us?”

“No, thank you,” Amy replied.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t,” Mark said.  “We’ll grab another chair and - ”

“No.  I’ve changed my mind.  I’m not very hungry after all,” Amy said.

“Ames, what’s wrong?”  Mark started to stand, and Amy shook her head before backing away.

“Nothing’s wrong.  Enjoy your lunch.”

She turned and bolted out the door, bending her head against the cold wind as she walked down the street.

Mark sank back into his chair.  “Shit.”

“Did I do something wrong?”  Chloe asked.

“No,” Mark said.  “Of course not.”

Chloe placed her crumpled up napkin on the table.  “Ms. Dawson doesn’t seem to like me.”

“She does,” Mark said.  “Amy likes everyone.”  He took a drink of water.  “Finish up your sandwich and we’ll walk back to the office together.  Okay?”

“I’m finished.”  Chloe pushed the rest of her sandwich away.

“You didn’t eat very much.”

“Neither did you.”  She pointed to his barely-touched wrap.

“I guess that’s what happens when we start talking about our siblings, huh?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“Come to the meeting tonight, Chloe.”

She hesitated, and he leaned forward.  “They help.  You can’t do this alone.”

“You’re right,” Chloe said.

“Good.  So, I’ll see you at seven?”

“Yeah,” she said.  She stood and picked up their uneaten food.  “I’d better get back to the office.  Taking a long lunch on my second day isn’t exactly professional.”

 

* * *

 

Amy stared at the sketch in front of her.  She cursed and tore the piece of paper from the sketch pad with a harsh rip.  She crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the trash.

It was nearly twenty-four hours since she’d seen Mark and Chloe in the café together and she still couldn’t get the fucking image out of her head.  The way Mark was holding her hands, the tender look he was giving her – he might as well have just ripped Amy’s heart from her chest and smeared it onto the dirty floor of the café.  The pain would have been the same.

She snapped her pencil in two and tossed it in the trash before grabbing another one.  It was bad enough that Mark knew Chloe from the club, bad enough that that he had probably fucked her.  But the way he looked at her… like he cared about her, like he…

The second pencil broke between her fingers with the sound of a tree branch snapping in the cold.  She tossed it and grabbed a third. 

“We need to talk.”

The very object of her thoughts strode into her office.  She stared at the blank sketch pad in front of her and made her voice light.  “Sorry, just heading into a meeting.”

“No, you’re not.”  He crossed around her desk and sat on the edge of it.  She automatically rolled her chair away.  “I checked your schedule.  You have no meetings this afternoon.  In fact, you had no meetings yesterday afternoon either when I tried to talk to you.”

“I’m very busy.”  She refused to look at him.  “Can we talk later?”

“No.  Look at me.”

Fuck, he was using his Dom voice on her.  The urge to obey him was excruciatingly difficult to resist.

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Don’t do what?”

“Use your Dom voice on me.”

There was silence, then, “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have done that.  Sometimes it just…happens.”

Her laugh was bitter.  “With everyone or just with the women you’ve put your collar on?”

“Amy - ”

“How do you know Chloe?  The club, right?  Has she been your little slave too?”

The words fell out of her mouth.  Dry and dusty as a tumbleweed in the desert.

“No, Chloe doesn’t go to the club.”

A weight she hadn’t known existed, dropped from her chest.  She took her first deep breath in twenty-four hours and stared up at Mark.  “Then how?”

His fingers grabbed his left earlobe.  Tugged.  “I told you, through mutual friends.”

The weight returned.  Settling back onto her chest with a cheery wave and a have-you-missed-me-old-friend grin.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”  She lowered her gaze to the pencil clenched between her fingers.

“It’s not the club, Amy.  Can you just trust me on that?”

“If it isn’t the club, then why won’t you tell me the truth?”

“I am telling you the truth.”

The weight sunk deeper, threatening her ability to breathe, to live.

“Fine.  Thank you for clearing that up.  Could you leave now?  I really am very busy.”  Her tone was ice cold and she felt more than heard Mark’s sigh.

“I don’t want to fight with you again.”

“We’re not fighting,” she said.  “Everything’s good.”

“No, it isn’t,” he said.  “You’re angry and we need to talk about it.”

“I’m not angry.”  She could almost taste the rage on her tongue.  “Why would I be angry?”

“Chloe and I are friends, nothing more,” Mark said.

“Good for you.”

“Ames, don’t - ”

“Hey, Amy?  I redid the jacket on this design like you asked, but honestly, it still doesn’t feel right.  Like, the shoulders don’t sit right or something.  Can you take a look at it?  Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”  Rachel, one of the members of her design team stood in the doorway of her office, sketchbook in hand.

“You’re not.”  Amy stood and pushed past Mark.  “Mark was just leaving.  Come in and we’ll look over the design together.”

Mark was still standing at her desk and she said, “Bye, Mark.”

“We’ll continue our meeting later,” Mark said.  He headed toward the door of her office, smiling distractedly at Rachel.

“Sure.”  Her voice was careless as she took the sketchbook from Rachel.  “Okay, Rachel, let’s see what you’ve got.