Nolan carefully poked his head out of his cube to spy on Steve. The man’s door was shut, meaning he was either on a conference call or looking at porn. Nolan glanced at the clock and began quickly gathering his things. He’d heard Steve bitching about having to come in over the weekend, and he knew damn well that the guy would pull rank and try to make him come in as well.

Not this weekend, Satan. I have plans.

Nolan shut down his computer and was gathering up another ream of menus, this time for Foley’s Public House, when his phone rang.

“Hey, Meghan, what’s up?” he whispered into the phone.

“Why are you whispering?” she whispered back.

“I’m trying to get the hell out of here before someone snags me and I have to beat their ass.”

Meghan laughed. “Don’t do anything drastic, Nolan. I was just going say that you can drop off the special Fight Night menus at the front of the bar. Just tell Ronnie to leave them in my office. I’ve . . . got to deal with stuff, but I’ll be here for Fight Night, so don’t worry.”

“Is your dad okay?”

Meghan burst out with a small, hysterical laugh. “Oh, no. He’s not. Um, but we’ll get through it. Thanks for asking, though.”

“If you need anything at all, Meghan, let me know. I mean it.”

“You know any bartenders? I’m gonna need someone soon, I think.”

“Lemme call Cal. He knows plenty of people.”

“You know, you’re a real peach, Nolan. Just a really good guy.”

“Um . . .”

Meghan cackled. “Just get the menus here and you’ll be good. I gotta run. Bye, Nolan.”

“Bye, Meghan.”

Nolan shoved the menus into his briefcase, and with another glance down the hall, made a beeline for the side door. It would take him longer to get out, but he’d have less of a chance of being intercepted in the elevator. He’d made it all the way down the stairs and halfway through the parking lot when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

He feigned not hearing Steve’s insistent yelling, but then he slid on a patch of oil in the parking lot and went down hard. Fuck. And when he’d finished gathering his scattered papers, he stood up and came face-to-face with Steve.

“Harper, I was calling you—what the hell?”

“Oh, sorry. I’m a little preoccupied. What’s up?” Nolan asked through gritted teeth, silently cursing himself for not watching where he put his feet.

Steve huffed impatiently. “I need you to fill in for me this weekend.”

I knew it. “No can do, Steve. My girlfriend’s got a fight, and I need to be there to support her.”

Nolan wished he’d thought to snap Steve’s photo because the look on the guy’s face was priceless.

“You have a girlfriend? Who is a fighter?”

Nolan bobbed his head. “Yep. She’s got a match at the colosseum tomorrow night. I had to miss the weigh-ins this afternoon because I thought we had a conference call.” Nolan gave Steve a pointed look because said conference call was canceled at the last minute at Steve’s behest. Nolan had been livid enough to consider walking out right then, advance permission be damned.

Steve blinked but then shook his head as if to clear it. “Regardless. You need to be here at nine o’clock sharp, and plan on working overnight because there’s a deadline.”

“No. I told you I can’t come in.”

“Well, we need to get this invoicing done, and I can’t do it by myself in two days.”

“Lack of planning on your part doesn’t constitute an emergency on mine.” Nolan hoped to hell he seemed calmer than he felt.

“Look, Nolan, I don’t want to be a hard-ass, but you owe me.”

Nolan barked a laugh. “Owe you. Let’s see—who picked up your last four weekends on? And who still hasn’t gotten his promised trade? No, I do not owe you anything.”

“I’ll have to write you up if you don’t come in.”

“Are . . . are you threatening me?” Nolan scoffed at his team leader. “Because if you are, I quit.”

“I’m not threatening, but I’m just saying that you might find yourself with a lot of free time if you don’t perform your duties”

Nolan stared defiantly at Steve, and then he made a decision. “So let me see if I understand: my job might be in danger if I don’t do your job and cover your ass. Right?”

“Right.” Steve’s eyes rounded as he realized what he just admitted. “No, no, I’m just saying that you knew some weekend hours were expected, and if you don’t work your hours, well . . . I can’t be responsible for any sanctions.”

“Let me make it easy: I quit.”

“Whu, what?”

“I. Quit.” Nolan plucked his passkey off his lanyard.

“You can’t just quit. You have to give at least two weeks’ notice.”

“Nope. I don’t. And don’t threaten me with some bullshit ‘you’ll never work in insurance again,’ because damn straight I’m never going to work in insurance again. I took this job so my work-life balance wouldn’t be insane; it’s not—it’s nonexistent. So I quit.” He reached into his car and ripped the parking hangtag from his rearview mirror. “I quit, Steve.”

“What . . . what are you gonna do?”

“Right now, I’m gonna go kiss my girl’s ass for missing the weigh-in.”

And Nolan got into his car and drove away and didn’t give Steve another glance or the insurance job another thought.

“Hey, babe. Sorry I didn’t make it to the weigh-in today.”

“It’s fine, Nolan.”

“What’s wrong, Birdie?”

Nolan heard her sigh. “Nothing that you can do anything about.”

“Talk to me, darlin’. Please.”

“You don’t want to hear this.”

“Babe . . .”

“Kevin was at the weigh-in.”

Nolan bristled. Dammit, I knew I should have blown off that meeting. “Did either of them do anything to you?”

“No. She barely acknowledged me, other than the face-off, which is worrisome. I don’t trust her at all. Kevin completely ignored me.”

“Good.”

Bridget sighed. “Yeah, it is good. So how was your day?”

“Oh, Steve threatened me, so I quit.”

He held his breath, waiting for her to tell him how foolish he was.

“Finally!”

“What?”

“You were so miserable, Nolan. You were making yourself sick.”

Nolan smiled at the woman on the other end of the line. She was so good for him, so supportive.

“You did the right thing,” Bridget continued. “You’ll find something else soon. I know it.”

“Well, I might have something already. You know I’ve been doing menus and meal prep stuff, right?”

“Yeah?” He could hear blankets rustling, a sign that she was settling into bed. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow night, when they’d be somewhere together, hopefully.

“Well, Cal wants some, too, and C wants me to coordinate with the nutritionist and do some things with the private clients. So . . .”

Bridget squealed. She squealed. “Oh, Nolan! That’s wonderful!” She babbled on, singing his praises until he was blushing, even though they weren’t in the same room for her to see the effect her words had on him.

“Thanks, Birdie.” He heard her yawn. “Okay, babe, that’s my signal to get off the phone. I’ll see you at the fight, all right?”

“You have your passes and everything?” she asked, her voice sleepy.

“Yeah, I got ’em.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Nolan. Love you.”

He sucked in a breath. “Love you, too, Bridget. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hung up the phone and did a karate kick and a fist pump. She said, “Love you.” Holy fuck!

“She said it, Iggy!” Nolan picked up the cat and swung him around. “She said it! I don’t know what the hell to do with it, but she said it!”

“Mrowwp!”