Lola Cambridge gawked as people in the executive suite lobby of Cambridge Studios broke into applause. Had she crashed a party? All eyes were suddenly on her. “Yikes!” she whispered, backing away. Someone heartily clapped a hand on her shoulder to stop her retreat. Someone else shoved a flute of champagne at her, and the lukewarm bubbly sloshed her designer shoes.

Shouts of “Congratulations!” rang out. They were talking to her. She hated being the center of attention. Fake smiles everywhere. Cameras flashed. A D-list actor flourished Happy Birthday, Lolita across a glossy headshot, and things started to make sense. Lola juggled to catch the autograph she hadn’t requested.

“Thanks, but that’s not my...” She trailed off as Actor Guy smirked and pivoted. “Name,” she finished lamely to his back. Her father’s executive assistant danced from behind the front desk in a pink plaid oxford shirt and bright green tie, and Lola narrowed her eyes. “Alright. What’s going on here, Shaun?”

“Just best wishes for the birthday girl!” he gushed, setting aside a paper plate of half-eaten cake.

Shaun forced a massive bouquet of roses into her arms. Out of nowhere, a gift-wrapped box tied with gold balloons popped up. Another photo op. More cameras. Lola felt anything but best wishes. The only element missing from the birthday greeting was a rain of confetti. Oh, and Dear Old Dad.

Lola pasted on her best made-for-TV smile. “Dad and I have a brunch date,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “Tell me he didn’t cancel on me. I called and scheduled it with you and everything.”

Shaun looked skyward with a dramatic sigh. “I know, honey, and I am SO sorry. Your father’s on a call with the producers of Wild Adventure Family. Oh, my gosh, I LOVE the show, but you know how THEY are. Want to leave a message?”

He grabbed a pen but something told her the message wouldn’t reach John Cambridge until late that evening when her father deigned to emerge from his workaholic daze. Lola glared at his office door.

“But, it’s my twenty-fifth birthday,” she mumbled.

And, everyone was eating cake without her. She straightened her shoulders and dropped the roses on the desk next to the gift, marching to her father’s office.

“Oh, sweetie! You can’t go in there,” Shaun called after her.

Lola tried the knob, and the door swung open. She thanked her lucky stars. It would’ve looked even more pathetic if the door had been locked. She was ninety percent certain one of the folks up front still had a phone aimed her way to capture embarrassing footage for social media. Such was the life of the daughter of a major studio executive.

“Dad, we need to talk,” she said as she barged into the stylish corner office.

“I’ll have to buzz security!” Shaun hissed behind her.

She rolled her eyes and tossed back, “Don’t bother. Dad?” She tapped her foot impatiently.

John looked up from the conference call he was engaged in, his dark eyebrows in a frown above his hawkish nose. “Yeah, Dan, I’ll have to call you back.” He hit a button to end the call and rose from the sleek black desk. He was rakishly handsome, and he didn’t look like anybody’s father, but he was. It was time he acted like it. “Close the door, Lola,” he sighed.

She slammed it behind her and parked her hands on her hips, pinning him with a look. At least he had the decency to drop his gaze. “Did you really think you could placate me with a half-hearted office party? Dad, we talked about this brunch for weeks! How could you flake on me? I know you’re a busy man, but—”

“I am busy, darling, and you’re far too old to throw these kinds of tantrums.”

Lola’s eyes bugged. “How would you even know how old I am? This happens every year, by the way. For as far back as I can remember. All I asked for was one hour of your time.” She was close to real tears.

“Now, don’t get histrionic on me. I said I’m sorry,” John replied sheepishly.

“You didn’t,” she pointed out. She squeezed the bridge of her nose and turned away, but her father drew her into an awkward hug. Her nostrils filled with the light scent of his expensive cologne. Still, the embrace lacked any emotional connection. It was as scripted as the attention in the lobby.

“Okay, then, I’m sorry,” John’s voice rumbled in her ear. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll fly you to Tahiti this weekend. Get a couple of your girlfriends together. I’ll tell Shaun to make reservations now.” He set her away as if someone had yelled ‘Cut,’ and Lola sucked up her tears and shook her head.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a busy woman, too. I’ll be working at the hospital all weekend because I took off to be available for this brunch. I don’t know why I bothered. I just wanted to see your face for my birthday. So, hi and bye, as usual.”

Her father gave a rueful quirk of his lips. “You sound like your mother.”

Lola snorted a laugh as she headed to the door. “According to you, I sound like, look like and act like Marie Cambridge, but you know I’m cut from the same cloth as you.”

He peeked at the wall clock above her, and her shoulders slumped. “One of these days when I leave, I might be gone for good,” Lola added. John didn’t respond; however, a dull ache filled his eyes, and she knew her statement had called to memory the ex-wife who had left him to raise a young daughter alone. But, the moment was brief. He was back to his desk, hitting redial before her hand reached the doorknob.

“Can we chat about this later?” he asked.

Sighing, Lola slipped from the office and didn’t bother stopping at the front desk for the gift or the flowers. She continued out the revolving doors. Her sports car was waiting for her when she made it curbside. She tucked a tip into the valet’s hand and hopped into the vehicle.

She nosed her car out of the studio parking lot, taking surface streets through the slow city of Baton Rouge. She pondered whether to spend the day out or go home. She wasn’t in the mood to celebrate alone, but she didn’t have any girlfriends to chill with in Tahiti. She didn’t have any girlfriends, period.

“Guess I’ll head to work,” she muttered.

The research hospital where she was completing her residency saw more of her than her own apartment. Lola had no life outside of work, and that bothered her. She didn’t want to end up like John Cambridge; on the other hand, it felt like her destiny, pre-written by genes and upbringing.

Well, a pity party is better than no party at all, she thought wryly. Her stomach rumbled, and she envisioned the adorable bistro where she had planned an afternoon with her dad. “Maybe just a bite of cake,” she reasoned, making a detour.

Fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the cobblestone courtyard where a charismatic fountain gurgled. Lush plants in oversized flower pots enlivened the entrance to the vintage building that doubled as an antique shop and indie art gallery. She could almost taste the yummy coconut crème she ordered whenever she visited.

Lola parked and climbed out of the car, catching her reflection in the window. Soft blond curls framed her face. Doe-like blue eyes dominated her features, but dimples stole the show when she smiled. Her upturned nose and slightly cleft chin added character. John was right. She looked like her mom. She occasionally worried she had inherited more than her mother’s good looks because, just like Marie Cambridge, she yearned for adventure and escape.

Lola wrinkled her nose at her mirror image, reminding herself she liked her ordered and predictable life. She strolled onward through the courtyard and noticed a dowdy old woman at one of the patio tables with trinkets for sale. She didn’t have time to stop and peruse the wares. Besides, it was hot out.

She ducked into the cool, dark interior of the bistro. “Let me get a slice of your coconut crème cake,” she ordered. Hearing her demanding tone, she softened and smiled at the teenager working the register. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be brusque. I’m kind of in a hurry to get to work.”

“Not a problem. One slice of coconut crème cake,” the girl smiled. “It’ll be about five minutes. Would you like a table while you wait? I’ll get it to you as fast as I can.”

Lola gnawed on her bottom lip and glanced at her phone. Then, she realized she was acting exactly like her father. Too busy to stop and enjoy the fresh baked bread smell of her favorite restaurant. She inhaled deeply and exhaled, nodding. “You know, I think I might wait outside and enjoy some sun.”

As she stepped out, her skin prickled with pleasure from a balmy breeze that swept through the courtyard. She slid designer shades from her hair and covered her eyes, and she squinted in the direction of the elderly woman she had noticed on the way in.

To kill time, Lola ambled to the table where glass beads and dangly earrings were on display. It was all lovely, but worthless junk. The peddler was a short, round grandmotherly woman with feathery white hair that floated around her jovial face. Although it was hot out, she looked cool and refreshed. Oddly, when she moved, she seemed hazy around the edges. Like a cloud, Lola thought. A soft, fluffy rain cloud.

“See anything you like?”

Lola shrugged, running a finger over a butterfly charm bracelet. “Maybe so. I thought I might treat myself for my birthday. How much?”

“Ah! I love birthdays. You get to be my age, and you learn to appreciate ‘em. Pick out anything. On the house.”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t do that!”

“Trust me, I don’t need the money,” the woman chuckled. “It’ll be my pleasure to give you something, dearie. I’m Ainley, and you are?”

“Lola. Hi.”

“Lola. Yes. You look exactly right for a Lola. Not a Lolita or Lulu.” A ring that was different from the others caught Lola’s attention as the woman rambled on about her name. “That’s a good one,” Ainley added quietly.

Lola arched a brow as she lifted the ring from the crushed velvet cloth. The band appeared to be pure gold, encasing a pale red ruby. At least, it looked like a ruby. Lola vaguely wondered if the piece was stolen. Or, maybe it was from Ainley’s personal jewelry box and had gotten mixed in by accident. It clearly wasn’t craft jewelry like the rest.

“Do you mean to sell this one?”

Ainley nodded toward the bistro door. “I think that’s for you, dearie.”

“Oh, my cake. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

Lola reentered the eatery for her takeout box, not realizing she still had the ring in hand until she went to pay for her order. With a gasp, she shoved a bill at the girl at the register. “Keep the change,” she called out. Lola hurried outside in time to see the old peddler disappearing around a corner.

“Wait a second, Ainley! I meant to pay for this!”

The woman didn’t stop. Lola walked briskly to the edge of the court after her, but when she rounded the building, Ainley was nowhere to be seen. Lola paused in the middle of the sidewalk and scanned both sides of the street. “What utter weirdness,” she murmured.

As she dropped into the driver’s seat, she tossed the ring in the cup holder and promptly forgot about it. With a soft, wistful sigh, Lola opened her slice of cake. But, I do wish I had more adventure, she thought, and more excitement, more friends, more free time. Wishful thinking.

She nibbled a bite, glancing at the dashboard clock. She was wasting a perfectly good work shift. Lola closed the lid on the takeout box and started the car. A little luck, she’d clear all her hours for the day. She floored it.

* * *

“What are you doing here, Hollywood? I thought you were off,” Dr. Panjab said with a grin when she entered the doctor’s lounge.

“Hey, what would this place be without me?”

“A hospital. It would still be a hospital without you,” he quipped. “How was brunch with Dad?”

Lola strolled to her locker as he headed to the door. “Ugh! Don’t ask,” she mumbled.

Panjab made a sympathetic sound. “Well, if it helps, everyone’s planning a big surprise party for you tomorrow. So, act surprised,” he said. Lola giggled as he waved goodbye and left her alone with her thoughts. The lounge was blessedly empty. It occurred to her that her birthday wish was a subtle homage to her mom.

Marie had left her family behind to pursue excitement. Lola didn’t want to end up like her mother, any more so than she wanted to be like her dad; but, that wild streak was in her DNA, too. Twisting her lips and shrugging into her white coat, Lola moved to slam the locker shut, but hesitated when she heard someone else in the room.

Wide green eyes darted left to right as she strained to listen for the sound again. The door hadn’t opened after Panjab. No one could’ve gotten into the lounge without her knowing. Goosebumps pebbled along her skin as she leaned away from the locker to scan the rest of the empty room.

That’s when she noticed the supply closet door was partially ajar. It hadn’t been when she entered the lounge, Lola knew, because she had walked right past it.

She tiptoed toward the door, heart thumping loudly in her chest as she peered through the crack and saw someone stuffing medical supplies into a bag. Her eyes narrowed. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, dressed in odd-looking gray trousers and something like a black t-shirt. He wore supple black leather boots that came up to his calves. He wasn’t a doctor or any other medical staff she knew.

“There aren’t any drugs in there,” she said, her voice shaking. She swallowed thickly and instinctively raised her hands in surrender as the man whipped around. However, he didn’t move to hurt her.

His piercing blue eyes locked with hers. His face was stunning—all sharp angles, defined cheekbones and bold chin. A five-o’clock shadow gave him rugged sex appeal, not that he needed any help. From head to toe, he was the epitome of Desirable Maleness. Too bad he was a thief.

“I’m serious,” Lola reiterated firmly. “If you don’t leave, I’ll have to page security. You won’t find drugs here, and the pharmacy is under heavy surveillance.” A wave of honey blond hair fell over his high forehead, and he swept it back, casually taking more bandages and syringes. “I don’t want to have to do this, but...”

She dug out her cellphone, and suddenly he was right in front of her. Lola hitched in a breath at his speed. “I’m not taking any drugs,” he said quietly. His voice was Novocain. It soothed like nothing she had ever experienced. He reached for the name badge on her coat, and she flinched. “Dr. Cambridge. I’ll be out of your hair momentarily. Please, put away your phone.”

The device slipped from her numb fingers, and she found herself nodding against her better judgment. He brushed past her, and she breathed in his scent. It was something primal and unbottled, and her body reacted as if struck by lightning. Every part of her tingled.

“I need aspirin or Tylenol,” he murmured, looking around the lounge before returning his gaze to her. “Can you get it for me?” Lola removed her purse from her locker. She gave him the bottle of extra strength pain reliever she kept for headaches. His soft words of appreciation rippled through her. Was she trembling as she backed away?

“I thought you said you weren’t after drugs,” she managed.

He wooed her with a smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Cambridge. Thank you for your help.” The stranger stepped into the supply closet. When he closed the door, Lola felt the pressure change in the room, and her ears popped.

“What the hell?” she whispered. She flung open the supply closet door, but he was no longer there. Nothing was there except the empty gauze boxes that had fallen to the floor in his haste to remove the contents. Lola frowned in confusion and closed the door. She opened it. Closed it. Opened it again. Same results.

She pressed a hand to her forehead and then to her lips as she paced to the other side of the lounge. She supposed this was what she got for begging for more excitement. “Okay,” she said aloud. She was overworked. Maybe she was experiencing micro-sleeps and hypnogogic hallucinations or some such fully explainable nonsense. “Alright. Yeah. Point taken. I need the day off.”

A half-hour later, Lola made it home. She grabbed her things from the passenger seat and noticed the gold ring in the cup-holder. She palmed it and slammed the door. Nervously chuckling to herself, she marched up the stairs to her floor and unlocked her apartment, entering the frigid, air-conditioned living room. To think, her desire for adventure had her seeing things. She couldn’t believe the mini-episode back at the doctor’s lounge.

“Bath, then food, then bedtime,” she murmured. Never mind it was midday.

In the bathroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, and there was a bit of a crazy stir in her eyes. But, she hadn’t seen what she thought she had seen. Had she? She hadn’t. She was certain of it. She turned on the faucet and watched the tub fill with hot, steamy water as she repeated the soothing to-do list to herself. Bath, then food, then bedtime. She’d feel better with a little self-care.

Lola sank into the tub minutes later with a full glass of wine to help her troubled psyche relax. Sipping the dry red, she glanced at the ring she had placed on the edge of the tub. Water trickled down her arm as she picked up the ring to study it.

It was real gold. The ruby might not be real. It didn’t look like any she had ever seen. Too pale. Lola slipped the ring onto her finger, and the wine glass hit the floor with a loud shatter of glass. The plip-plop of the faucet filled the empty bathroom.

She was gone.