“You’re a man possessed.”

Dahlia breezes into my office with lunch on a tray. I normally insist on leaving the office at lunchtime—it’s the only way I can stand to work there for weeks on end—but today I want to be buried in work. Today I want to jump in to projects so deeply at the office that it wipes away the memory of Kennedy hesitating in that alcove at Westbury Manor.

I overreacted like an idiot, and I know that. There was no way in hell she was going to skip out on her friend’s wedding reception to be with me, no matter how strongly she feels about me.

“I’m a man who has work to do.”

Dahlia sets the tray on the free side of my desk, and we both look down at the arrangement. It’s a sandwich from the building’s cafeteria, a BLT that’s slightly lopsided, and a cup of vegetable soup.

“I have work to do,” I repeat again.

“If you don’t want the sandwich, say so.”

“I don’t want this sandwich.” In fact, the last thing I want to do is eat this sandwich.

Dahlia perches on the edge of the desk and waits until I look at her. “Do you want me to order in from somewhere else?” 

I glare at her. “Don’t patronize me.”

She shakes her head, a slow, measured motion. “I’m not patronizing you. You’re acting weird, and I want to know why.”

“And you think I should share that kind of personal information with my executive secretary?”

Raising a hand to her chest, she clutches at her heart, flinging her head back as if she’s been shot. “I never thought you’d say such cruel words to me.”

I sigh theatrically. “I know you’re not just my secretary.”

“I’m your friend, Gideon, even though you never take me on exotic vacations with you, like you do with your other friends.”

“I took you to Hawaii last year.”

“Yeah, but that was before I broke up with Sarah, and the memory—”

“Is tainted,” I finish for her. “Let’s go out to lunch.”

There’s a steakhouse down the block, and as Dahlia slides into the booth across from me, I rub both hands over my face. “I’m overreacting.”

Dahlia opens her mouth wide and gasps, hand flying up to her face. “You don’t say.”

“Do you want to hear about it or not?” I snap.

She straightens up in her chair, folding her hands on the table. “Obviously.”

I tell her what happened at Westbury Manor. It’s not a long story.

When I’m finished, Dahlia sits back in the booth. “Gideon.”

“What?”

“You’re being an idiot.”

“I know.”

“Let’s hurry up and order. You have things to do in the office.”

“I know. I’m trying to get all of the monthly reports out of the way before I leave for—”

“No.” Dahlia shakes her head. “You need to get back to the office, send her some flowers, and then plan something nice for the two of you for the instant you touch down wherever you’re going. Stop letting Andrea get the better of you. It’s been too long for that.”

I keep my face stone-cold for as long as I can, then I grin at Dahlia. “You always have a plan, don’t you?”

She grins back. “At least one of us does.”

It’s Monday, and as far as Kennedy knows, we’re taking off on Friday after work. Those plans are set in stone, and I’ve already booked a hefty chunk of the resort where we’ll be staying. It’s another private villa, on its own stretch of white sand beach, and I have no doubt she’s going to love it.

But after what happened at the wedding, I need to go even farther. I need to go bigger. And lunch with Dahlia was enough to clear my head. I know what to do. 

First things first, though, and I need to send her a message.

Not long now, pretty thing.

It takes her almost twenty minutes to reply, and I wonder if she’s been at lunch or if things are in high gear at the agency. If it wouldn’t be a huge pain in the ass, I’d buy the agency out right now so I could give her all the time off she wanted, but being a billionaire doesn’t always make mergers and acquisitions go any faster. Certainly not by this afternoon, which is when I really would like to have Kennedy on the plane and ready to go—in more ways than one.

Four days is a long time...

We could leave tonight.

You could leave tonight…I have a job that needs my attention :/

Is it the busy season?

It’s always a busy season, but this week everybody wants their winter plans finalized.

What about fall?

Only the last-minute emergency fall plans. 

So they’d miss you if you left?

They’re already not pleased that I’m leaving on Friday.

I’m pleased that you’re leaving on Friday.

I’m more than pleased to be leaving on Friday. I’m EXCITED!

I hope you’re not being sarcastic...

Ha!

Don’t worry about packing.

Thank God. I was worrying about packing.

I love sending messages to Kennedy. She’s got a drier wit via text than she does in person, and getting to experience it is one of the nicer pleasures on days like today.

Come stay at my place tonight.

That’s a bad idea and you know it, Gideon Hawke.

It sounds like a good idea to me...

It sounds like a good way to get fired to me.

You think I won’t give you a ride to work?

I think I won’t LET you give me a ride to work if I come over tonight. I’ll be too tired in the morning to even THINK about going to work, after a night in your bed...

Who said anything about my bed? I said my place.

You should have been a stand-up comedian.

It doesn’t pay as well as being the CEO of my own business empire.

But it would be more fulfilling, right?

I laugh out loud. Dahlia pokes her head in from the outer office. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great. Thanks to you.” She narrows her eyes. “Really. You’ve transformed my mental attitude for the better.” Another message comes in from Kennedy.

I’ve got to get back to work.

Me, too. I’m planning a surprise for you.

Now you’ve ruined it...

Ruined what?

The surprise.

You have no idea what it is. How could it possibly be ruined?

Because I know it’s coming. Don’t you know anything about surprises?

I guess not. But I know about you...

Keep your mind out of the gutter.

Never.

Fair.

Talk to you soon, pretty thing.