Wednesday I go through the motions at my father’s office like a robot, unable to force a smile onto my face. Nobody notices. Or, if they do, they don’t say anything because I’m the boss’s son.

That’s one perk to being filthy rich and related to the man in charge. Nobody questions it if you’re suddenly a numb, soulless husk of a person.

I want this to be over.

I want this drowning, suffering feeling to end so I can move on with my life.

Move on to what?

I don’t know.

I don’t know what’s worth it.

I’ll always have enough money to do whatever I please. I made sure of that long ago, and I assure myself of that every day when I check my investments, make small adjustments, put money here, transfer money there.

That’s not going to be an issue.

But when it comes to women….

Is it worth it?

Carolyn’s face floats up in front of my mind a hundred times throughout the day, and each time it takes my breath away.

I haven’t heard from her since yesterday. I don’t want to hear from her.

That’s not true.

I want to hear from her more than anything. But I’m not getting sucked back in.

I won’t.

I leave the office at five o’clock and walk out without saying anything to anyone. People duck into offices to stay out of my way, which I consider a silver lining. It’s not like I’ve necessarily been rude. I haven’t been anything at all. They must sense that the time isn’t right to have an encounter with Ace Kingsley.

As I slide into the backseat of the Bentley, my phone buzzes, and I automatically swipe across the front to see who the message is from.

Too late, I realize that I’m half-hoping it’s from Carolyn.

I roll my eyes at my own stupidity.

The message is from Eli Pierce.

My first instinct is to ignore it.

You free tomorrow?

Depends.

On what?

Where you’re going

I take it the Swan is out?

He’s very perceptive.

Not in the mood.

There’s another dining club I know. Less exclusive. Dinner and drinks?

You lonely, Pierce?

My wife is the best woman in the world.

Message received. What time?

7:00. I’ll drive.

By which he means his driver will drive. That’s fine with me.

OK

Plans.

At least I have plans.

Noah lets me out in front of the building, and I scan the lobby for any sign of Carolyn. I don’t want to take the risk of running into her.

“She’s not there, boss.”

I don’t know how Noah knows about any of this—maybe he doesn’t, and he knows me better than I thought—but I can’t even bring myself to scoff at the assistance.

“Thanks.”

I get out of the car and cross quickly to the doors, pulling one open with a swift yank and moving into the lobby. I don’t want to look like I’m running from someone—because I am—but I also don’t want to see her.

If I see her, there’s no telling what I’ll do.

There’s no telling what future harm I might end up doing to myself.

I can’t take that risk.

I can never take that risk again.

My heart is in my throat when I punch the button to call the elevator. What if she’s coming down right now, and when the doors slide open, I see her face? What if, when I see her face, I’m so furious that I spit out some cutting comment right here in the lobby, in front of the doorman and whoever else might walk in?

Worse, what if I’m so captivated by her beauty, by the kindness that radiates off her wherever she goes, that I fall right back under her spell, never to emerge again? What then?

Would that be the worst thing in the world? The thought bubbles up before I can stop it.

Yes, I think, but I’m not convinced.

My heart is beating so hard that I put a hand to my chest, then expend all the rest of my energy putting it back down to my side. The last thing I need is for anyone here to think I’m having a heart attack and make a scene.

The doors slide open….

To reveal Mrs. Hensley, the woman who was outside that night, asking about her husband.

“Well, hello!” she cries gaily as she exits the elevator with a slow shuffle. I put my hand on the doors to keep them from sliding shut too early, and she beams up at me.

“You are too handsome, young man.” She wags a finger in my direction as if I’ve done something awful, which I have. But she follows it up with a grin. “Where’s your lady friend, Carolyn? You two are so gorgeous together.”

She’s right, and I hate it. I shake my head, my lips curving upward. “Not here.”

Mrs. Hensley didn’t care much for the answer to her question because she’s already making her way over to the doorman. “Lovely,” she says, maybe to me, maybe to nobody. “Lovely.”

I step into the elevator and the doors slide closed, and once again, I force myself upright.

Yes, accepting Eli’s invitation was the right thing. I’ll need to accept even more invitations if I don’t want this apartment to become a gilded prison like the Four Seasons.

The nagging voice in the back of my mind whispers again. It’s always going to be a prison without Carolyn.

The elevator moves upward and I try to ignore the thought, but it repeats itself like a drumbeat until I want to press my hands against my ears, anything to make it stop.

It’ll take more than that to stop this.

It’ll take everything I have.