"That stage is a work of serious genius," Reece said, holding up a beer in toast.

"Hear, hear!" Brent added, clinking glasses with Tyree, who was starting his second bottle.

"Are we allowed to do this?" Cameron asked. "I mean, it's after two." He shot a glance toward Tyree. "And you once told me you'd fire my ass if I sold a drop of liquor after closing."

As soon as he finished speaking, he winced, then tilted his head toward Casper, the cameraman, as if Cameron had made a major faux pas on tape.

Casper, however, appeared completely uninterested. That wasn't his name, of course. But on the second day of filming, Mina had announced that since they weren't supposed to know either cameraman's real name—and since the men were supposed to be invisible to all of them—they'd name them appropriately. Thus, the shorter cameraman was Casper and his taller counterpart was Nick.

"Nick?" Cam had asked, and Mina had rolled her eyes. "As in Nearly Headless? A ghost, right? Like invisible. Fades away."

Cam, Brooke noticed, was still eyeing the beer suspiciously. Tyree, however, was unconcerned. On the contrary, a wide, delighted grin split his face. "And that's why my boy here is going to be getting that weekend assistant manager gig," Tyree said, directing the comment to Spencer and Brooke.

Then he waved his hand, indicating the spread of beer and liquor covering the desk in his office. "But this, my law-abiding young friend, is my own private stash. No sale, no problem. But don't drive home."

Cameron laughed, obviously relieved. "Fair enough."

Mina, who was sitting on the desk, pushed out her foot and bumped Cam's chair. "You are way too law-abiding."

"Just being careful," Cam protested, but he looked down immediately, and not for the first time Brooke wondered if he'd ever get up the nerve to tell Mina how he felt. Maybe if he downed a couple more beers...

It was after hours on Sunday, and the impromptu party was in celebration of the completion of the sectional stage. "I am completely willing to take a bow," Spencer said. "And I can do it with complete and total humbleness since it wasn't my brilliance that designed the thing. That would be the lovely Brooke Hamlin."

"Thank you, thank you," she said, taking a bow as they all applauded. "I honestly can't believe the contest is only a few days away."

Tyree nodded. "It's amazing how much you two have gotten done."

"Not just us," Brooke said. "You guys and your staff all helped." In the interest of the show, they'd decided to forego hiring laborers when they needed an extra pair of hands. Instead, when Brooke or Spencer needed help, management or one of the waiters or kitchen staff kicked in. And so far, they hadn't needed to pull in outside contractors like plumbers or electricians.

"We did," Brent agreed. "But you two still make a great team."

"Yeah," Spence said, hooking his arm around Brooke and pulling her in for a quick kiss, "we do."

"I think you have a pretty good shot on Wednesday," Jenna said to Spencer. She was drinking club soda with lime, and took a long sip before continuing. "I saw more than a few of our lunchtime regulars watching you work the last few days."

"Can't blame them. He looks hot in a T-shirt," Brooke said. They'd decided to work through the lunch hour in order to keep the show interesting by having customers in the place. "Especially with the sleeves rolled up to show off his ink."

"Which is excellent, by the way," Reece said, raising his glass in another toast. Considering the beauty and intricacy of his own tats, Brooke figured that was high praise.

"Right back at you," Spence said.

"I figure you'll score some points with the tats," Mina said.

"Wait." Brent frowned. "Wednesday? Points?"

"That's right," Jenna said. "You missed that conversation. Spencer's competing for Mr. February."

Brent laughed out loud. "Oh, man. Better you than me, buddy."

"Please. You are so getting on that stage one of these days," Jenna countered.

"Hell, yes, he is," Reece agreed.

Brent, however, merely pointed a finger at both of them and shook his head before turning to Spencer. "Good luck with that."

"Hey," Spence said. "I'm gonna own that shit." He flexed his muscles, and they all cracked up.

"Well, my money's on you," Brooke said.

"Mine's on Cam," Mina said. "Come on, Cameron. You know you want to."

"The hell I do."

"You should," she pressed. "We're still one guy short."

Tyree frowned. "Are we?"

Jenna nodded. "We don't have a hard rule that it has to be twelve contestants for each slot, so I wouldn't say we're short. We did manage to get twelve. But then one guy had to drop out. He got called out of town on business."

"See?" Mina pressed.

"Could he do it?" Brent asked. "I thought we were having local celebrities narrow down the applications to the final twelve."

Jenna lifted a shoulder. "I could get his application to them on Monday. I know they'd say yes."

"Um, hello. Right here."

Mina started to say something, but Brent pointed a finger to hush her. "If Cam wants to enter, he can tell Jenna later."

"Fine." Mina lifted her hands in surrender.

"I've had way too many of these," Brooke said. "I'm going to the ladies room. Back in a sec."

She was still thinking about the expression on Cam's face when she left the restroom a few minutes later. Maybe he would enter. She hoped he did. He was damn sure good-looking enough. True, he had a sweet, shy streak that made him seem younger than his years. But toss a little confidence his way, and—

"Oh!" She jumped, then realized that the hard body she'd walked into in the dark was Spencer.

"I was looking for you." Heat infused his voice.

"Were you? How interesting."

"Mmm." He pressed her up against the wall, caging her in. "Wasn't that long ago I held you like this with a completely different motive."

"My, how things changed." She hooked her arms around his waist then rose up on her toes to kiss him. "Did you find me out here for a tryst?"

"Actually, I have news. The tryst is just a perk."

"News?" She heard the excitement in his voice. "Spencer? What's going on?"

"I got an email from Richie's attorney."

Brooke's heart started to beat double-time. “This late? That can’t be good.”

“Actually, it is. She said she was working late on his case and realized she hadn’t given me a heads-up.”

"His case? I thought he was out of appeals."

"He's up for parole." Spencer's voice was tight with hope.

"What? That's incredible."

"I know. He's already had his interview."

"When will he hear if parole is granted?"

"We're not sure." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Fifteen years, Brooke. It's forever, but if he can get out now, he can still make a real life."

"This is amazing news," she said, clutching his hand. "And even if he doesn't make it this time, he's in the rotation, right? So he'll come up again with another chance. They don't always grant the first time."

"I know. I need to call his attorney. I'll do that in the morning. Find out all I can."

"In the meantime, we'll send Richie all our good thoughts."

"Hell, yes." He looked into her eyes, his filled with love and hope and vulnerability. "And in the meantime, I'm also taking a kiss for good luck."

"You don't have to take it," she began. "I'll give—"

But she didn't finish. His mouth closed over hers, gentle at first, but then hard and demanding, as if he could foist his will on the parole board through her. His fingers twined in her hair, tilting her head back, and his other hand went around her waist, pulling her to him so that she felt his erection straining against his jeans.

Her knees were weak, her body tingling, and she clung to him, as desperate for him as he was for her.

A low wolf whistle brought her back to her senses, and she leaped back, banging her elbow against the wall.

Reece chuckled. "You might want to think about getting a room. Before Casper decides to turn on his camera."

Spencer caught her eye and grinned. "You into exhibitionism?"

"Really not."

He shot a quick salute to Reece, who was laughing his ass off. "I think that's our cue to leave. Catch you in the morning. I'm taking this party home."