The plane pulls over to the terminal in JFK, but the seatbelt light stays on. “Please remain seated until we’ve come to a complete stop,” the pilot says over the intercom. I shift in my seat. How much longer is this going to take? I need to get going. It’s been three days since I’ve even heard McKenna’s voice, and the wait is driving me crazy.

I called her to tell her I was getting back early, but she hasn’t picked up. She can’t still be mad over the move . . . Can she? No, she’s the logical one. Now that she’s had a chance to think about it, she’ll understand I’m just doing what’s best for her company.

“I hope you had a pleasant flight, sir,” one of the stewardesses says, stopping by my seat. She looks at me through lowered eyelashes. “Is there anything else I can do for you before we disembark?”

I wave her away. “No, I’m perfectly fine.” I just want to get off this damned plane.

The blonde in the seat next to mine sighs dramatically. She mentioned about five times during the three-hour flight that she’s a professional model. “Flying is such a drag. I’m glad I at least had you for company. We should get drinks,” she adds, with a flirtatious glance. “At my hotel.”

Any other trip, any other day, and I would be taking her number—and the stewardess’s, too. But there’s only one woman consuming my thoughts, and she’s sitting at her laptop somewhere.

The seatbelt light goes off with a ding. I spring out of my seat and grab my bag from the overhead. Miss Model sidles over behind me. She tucks her hand into my suit jacket pocket before I can pull away.

“In case you ever want to get in touch,” she says with a coy smile.

Not likely. The second I’m in the airport walkway, I tug the slip of paper out of my pocket and toss it in the trash. I hurry on to pick-up area, where my chauffeur is waiting.

Dropping into the backseat, I get out my phone. Maybe my assistant knows what’s going on.

“Hey, Jack,” Hallie says when she picks up. “How’s Florida treating you?”

“I’m back in New York, actually,” I say. “Negotiations wrapped up a day early. Hey, have you seen McKenna lately? I’ve been trying to get a hold of her . . .”

“Hmm.”

When Hallie makes that sound, I know something’s up. “What?”

“Well, I have gotten the impression she’s still kind of upset about the whole ‘spring a surprise office move on her’ situation. And I can’t even say I blame her. You really didn’t talk to her about it at all?”

I grimace. “You know how I work. I get in there and get moving. That’s why people want me investing in them—they know I get things done, and fast. When I’m putting a million dollars into a company, I’d better be able to make some calls on my own.”

“Sure,” Hallie says. “But you’re not just McKenna’s investor. You’re also her boyfriend, unless I’ve totally misread things. And boyfriends aren’t supposed to trample all over their girlfriend’s dreams as if they don’t even belong to her anymore.”

“Oh.” I . . . hadn’t thought about it quite that way before. “I suppose I let my investor side take over without realizing a little more balance might be necessary.”

“I’d say so.” Hallie sighs. “You really are hopeless, Jack. It’s a good thing you pay so well.”

I smile. “Just so you know, I am absolutely glaring at you from very far away right now.”

“I feel the burn. So do you want to fix your epic mistake?”

“I take it you have some suggestions?”

“Nelle Castle came by for McKenna’s interview yesterday and set up a photoshoot over in Central Park. If you head straight over there, you should be able to catch her.”

“Got it,” I say. “And thank you, Hallie. I’d be lost without you.”

“Believe me, I know it,” she says with a sigh.

I lean forward to give the chauffeur our new destination. Central Park. A photoshoot? I’m not sure how that relates to whatever story Nelle is cooking up, but I guess I’ll find out when I get there. When I finally see McKenna again. Damn, I have some major apologizing to do. I can offer for us to go over the job candidates together. And then take her out for a very nice dinner. Finish it off with a long session between the sheets that’s totally dedicated to her, and hopefully, all will be forgotten.

“Just cruise around the park for now,” I tell the chauffeur. He nods and eases up on the gas as the first trees come into view. We’ve made it about halfway around when I spot Nelle Castle and a guy holding a camera. “Here. I may need you to swing by again later.”

“No problem.”

I get out and head over, scanning the park grounds for McKenna. My gaze catches on a figure with familiar black-framed glasses down the path near the fountain, side by side with a guy I’ve never seen before. I do a double take.

Yes, that’s definitely McKenna. And she’s laughing now at something the guy said. I don’t like how close he’s hovering. Or the way he touched her shoulder just now. What the hell is going on here?

“Jack!” Nelle says. “I didn’t realize you were in town.” She nods to the apparently happy couple as I come to a stop beside her. “Isn’t this great? What a story to get people excited about Perfect Match. I can’t believe McKenna is still single when she had her own match waiting right there for her. Although from the looks of things, she won’t be single for much longer.”

It takes my mind a few seconds to catch up. “She’s single, you said?”

“Crazy, isn’t it? She said she just hasn’t had the time to take advantage of her own work. But look at how well it’s working out!”

By all appearances, McKenna is outstandingly happy. She and her date stroll around the fountain, her face bright as she smiles at him. He gestures, telling some joke, and she laughs again. My jaw clenches.

“It’s funny, I just profiled Shelby Summers the other week,” Nelle prattles on, oblivious. “Do you know about her? Very traditional approach to matchmaking in everything except the way she delivers it. Do whatever you can to catch a guy’s attention and get him on the hook, give him a chase, that kind of stuff. But it turns out she and Ms. Delaney did their thesis research together in college. Two very different approaches to relationships coming out of the same starting point.”

She motions for the photographer to move closer. “Get us some money shots. It’s almost time to wrap this up.” He jogs over to McKenna and her date.

My stomach had knotted, but now it feels only hollow. “I hadn’t actually heard of Shelby Summers.”

“Oh, it’s probably just too much of a clash in approaches. McKenna is so independent in her work, isn’t she? From what I gathered . . .” Nelle bites her lip. “I couldn’t print this, but the gossip is that Ms. Summers used her techniques on an awful lot of rich men to get to where she is now.”

Is McKenna so opposed to that kind of manipulation? An hour ago, I wouldn’t have considered it for a second. But as I watch, the photographer motions her and her date closer together. McKenna wraps her arms around him to pose for the camera. Her cheeks look flushed—not just from the cold, is it? She ducks her head, playing shy, but then she lifts her chin so the guy can plant a quick kiss on her lips. My hands ball at my sides.

“Here, this is Shelby,” Nelle says. She holds out her phone. I recognize the woman on it in an instant.

I saw McKenna talking to that blonde at the bar last week, after I’d stepped out to take a call. So they are still in contact. Or maybe she was getting tips . . .

My heart sinks. She’d do anything for her company, wouldn’t she? I know that. McKenna pulled out every trick she had to get my attention. Maybe some I didn’t even realize she was using. Why not pull a page out of her old colleague Shelby Summers’ book if it gets her what she wants?

I watch her, my mind racing as everything clicks into place. I thought we had something. I thought she didn’t care about my money or my position. But that was how this all started, wasn’t it? Getting me to invest.

And then the second the deal was sealed, her company moved right into my offices, and she picked a stupid fight and went cold on me.

My gut has clenched. I got so caught up in here . . . I should have known better. Every woman who’s ever chased after me cared more about what I could give them than who I was. How idiotic could I get to think this was any different?

“I’m going to go chat with them a bit and get their thoughts on how the date went,” Nelle says. “Want to join me? You’ll get to see your investment in action.”

That’s the last thing I want to see right now. I’m not sure I could walk over there without taking a swing at that guy—or taking a piece out of McKenna.

No, she doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing how much she got to me. She’s happy now. I’ll be happy, too. We had a fling, and now it’s done. I’m certainly used to those.

“I’ve actually got some things to catch up on back at the office,” I say. “I’m looking forward to reading the story, though.”

“I’ll make sure you’re sent one of the first copies,” Nelle says.

I stalk away through the park. The air is chilly, but I feel hot all over, and not in a way I like. My mind keeps replaying little moments. Locking eyes with McKenna on the cliff face. The way she was gazing up at her date. Her moans in the bedroom at night. I rub my eyes, but the memories hold on.

There’s only one answer. She’s moving on, so I’ve got to do the same.

I call my car around. It’s waiting for me when I reach the south end of the park. “Maverick Capital,” I say. The second we’ve reach the building, I hurry up to office and turn on my computer.

Where is it? I know I kept a record somewhere . . . Ah. The lovely Claudia. My last match from McKenna’s list, the most perfect of them all. It really is a shame she had to cancel on that dinner. Imagine where I might be now if I’d gone out with her instead.

Well, you can’t rewrite the past, but you can decide how you write your future. I pick up my phone and dial the number.

“Hello, is this Claudia? It’s Jack from Perfect Match. I was wondering if it was a good time to reschedule that dinner.”