“Prophet! Prophet!” the crazy bald guy with the flowers around his neck shouts as the two security guards hold him back. He’s wearing a long yellow robe with no shoes on, and he’s struggling like crazy to break free from the security guards.

He’s staring right at me as he hollers through the lobby with a panicked look in his eyes. “Tell us the divine words of Franesca and Lukania, blessed Prophet!” he shouts, looking right at me. “Please!”

I’m back at McMillan Worldwide Inc. in the lobby by the elevators with no one around me, but I still look behind my back to see if he’s talking to someone else.

I don’t know this guy, and I’m definitely no prophet, but there’s nothing behind me but the marble walls, which means he’s talking to me.

It’s then that I remember the strange phone call a week or two ago. The nutjob on the phone called me a prophet as well.

I’m about to go over to talk to him when I catch myself and turn back around to the elevators. This is exactly the kind of thing I don’t need. I’m trying to lay low and get back in the good graces of my father before he retires and hands the company over to Nick. Catching me with Dahlia bent over my desk was my last chance. If I was a cat, I’d would have already lost eight of my nine lives, and I’d be walking on a wobbly tightrope in a hurricane, about to lose my ninth.

I have to stay professional, and engaging with a crazy Shaolin monk wannabe in a dress isn’t the way to impress my father.

“Prophet!” he screams as the larger security guard drags him out the door. The smaller guard comes rushing over as his coworker launches the whack-job into the street.

“Mr. McMillan,” he says, trying to catch his breath as he jogs over. “A second of your time please.”

The elevator doors bing open, and I sigh as I lean against them, preventing them from opening back up. “What’s up?”

“There was a break-in last night,” he says, wincing as he stares up at me. “In your office.”

“In my office?” I say, jerking my head back. “Only my office?”

“It appears so,” the guard says, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks uncomfortable. It’s never fun to be the one to give the boss bad news. “It was them.”

“Them?” I repeat, pointing at the crazy hairless fuck who is trying to look in through the mirrored windows from the sidewalk. “Did they steal anything?”

“Nothing that we noticed,” he says, biting his bottom lip. “But perhaps you can check when you get in. I have a police report ready to be filed.”

“No police report,” I say, waving my hand at him. I don’t want this to become a big deal. I still have no idea why they’re so interested in me, but it’s bound to go away if I just ignore them. I have a bad feeling that it has something to do with the night I met Dahlia and we went tearing through Las Vegas. If my father finds out about any of that, my last chance will be over.

“Just keep them out of the building,” I say, giving the weirdo one more look before I slip into the elevator. “And make sure my father doesn’t find out about any of this.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, nodding as the door closes in front of his face.

I take a deep breath, trying to put all of that weirdness out of my mind as the elevator shoots up the floors to the top.

It feels weird to be back home without Dahlia here. Summerland was amazing. I got a glimpse of what my life could be like with Dahlia, and it was pretty incredible.

Being with her for three days was enough to fall madly in love. I can’t stop thinking about her, and I already miss her like crazy.

It still hurts a little that she didn’t say I love you back, but I just have to realize she’s not the type to rush into things like love. It’s going to take her some extra time to come to terms with her feelings, and that’s fine. I felt the connection. I read the signs. I know she loves me back, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.

I look at my blurry reflection in the stainless-steel doors of the elevator and grin. What’s not to love?

The doors bing open on the top floor, and I take a deep breath before walking out. It’s the first time I’m seeing my father since the day of the incident, and I’m still not sure if he’s cooled off yet. He hadn’t been that pissed at me since I threw a house party in grade ten with three hundred and fifty of my closest friends.

“Hi, Mr. McMillan,” the receptionist, Ruth, says as I walk past her desk. “Your father would like to see you as soon as possible.”

“Sure,” I say, flashing her a smile. “I’m just going to check out my office first.” And make sure those wackos didn’t steal anything or sacrifice a baby lamb on my desk.

“He said immediately,” Ruth says, cringing. “’As soon as he steps off that fucking elevator,’ were his exact words.”

I gulp as I turn around and head for my father’s office. Checking my office can wait.

The door is open a crack, so I let myself in. “Hey, Pops!”

He sighs when he looks up and sees me. “Sit,” he says, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. He returns to the paperwork he’s going through as I walk over, feeling like I’m a teenager again and took the car without asking.

I have an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach as I sit down and wait for another earful. He scribbles his signature on the bottom of the paper, puts it to the side, and finally turns to me with his hands clasped on the desk in front of him and a stern look on his face.

“Where have you been?”

“Hiding out.”

“That was a good move,” he says, narrowing his eyes on me. “I should have fired you both.”

“Probably,” I say, shifting in my seat. “Thanks for keeping us around.”

“How could you do something so stupid?” he asks, staring at me in disbelief.

“I love her, Dad,” I say, trying to play the romantic card. “Don’t you remember what it was like when you first met mom and you couldn’t take your hands off her?” Gross.

His eyes tighten as he leans back in his chair. “I don’t recall being so in love that I felt the need to whip her. At work.”

“Well, then you couldn’t have been that much in love,” I joke. He’s not in the mood for jokes. “I’m kidding,” I say quickly, showing him my palms.

“This is serious, Tyler,” he says, deepening his tone. “Do you really think I’m going to put the company in the hands of someone who thinks pulling a stunt like that is a good idea? What if you had my position and something like that came out in the media? How do you think that would make the company look? Do you think it would be easy to raise money from investors or the banks with a sexual perversion like that hanging over your head? Do you think the employees would respect you if they knew you were getting freaky in your office? How would you be able to discipline them when you got caught doing something even worse? This is serious.”

I swallow hard as my eyes drift down to my lap.

“It won’t happen again, Dad.” I mean it this time. It won’t.

He takes a deep breath as he watches me with his eyes full of disappointment. Maybe I’m not cut out for the top position. Maybe it would be better to hand it off to someone else—as long as it’s anyone but Nick.

“I’ve given you too many chances already,” he says, looking exasperated. “This is your last straw, end of the road, rock bottom, very fucking last chance. You got that? You’re on thin ice.”

“I won’t blow it, Dad,” I say, really hoping that I don’t blow it.

“I mean it,” he says, glaring at me. “You’re on thin ice and carrying cinder blocks in your hands. Got that? If I walk in and see you drinking coffee at your desk without a coaster, you’re done. Understand?”

“I do.”

“One more screw up and I’m giving the company to your cousin Nick.”

My body tenses at the sound of his name. This has gone on long enough. Why can’t my father see that my cousin is no good? He’s always quick to point out how I’m no good, but he’s oblivious when it comes to Nick.

“Dad,” I say, feeling my pulse speed up. “He’s stealing money from the company.”

My father drops his head and sighs. “Do you have any proof of this?” he asks, looking up at me with hard cold eyes.

“I’ve gone over the numbers, and there are large amounts of money disappearing from his departments,” I say, trying to make him see.

“Do you have conclusive proof?” my father asks in a firm not-fucking-around voice.

I sigh. “No.”

He stands up, looking furious. “This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he shouts, throwing his pen onto the desk. “Wild accusations. Slander. You’re always trying to bring down your cousin instead of lifting yourself up.”

“Dad. Just take a look at the numb—”

“Enough!” he shouts, shaking his head as he walks to the window. “I don’t want to hear about this anymore. Your cousin is a good man and an even better businessman. He would make a fine leader of this company. I just wish I could say the same about you.”

My chest stings like I was just punched in the heart.

“One more chance, Tyler,” he says, looking old and tired as he stares out the window. “I want to retire, and I want my son to have the company. It’s the American dream.”

He turns and looks at me with exhaustion in his eyes. The old man worked hard all of his life and deserves to retire. He deserves to have someone responsible to leave the company to, so he can spend his golden years relaxing without a care or worry.

“I want you to have it, son,” he says, his voice softening. “Really I do. But this company is bigger than you and me. We have to look out for our employees and make sure they’re taken care of in the years to come.” He sighs as he turns back to the window. “I just need you to prove to me that you won’t screw up.”

I leave the office hoping I won’t let him down but I seem to be screwing up a lot lately. I’m walking back to my office, wishing that Dahlia was here with me, when I bump into my cousin Jason.

“Tyler,” he says, looking up at me with a smile. “I looked over the proposal that you and Dahlia wrote up for the legal office in Alabama. Very impressive. You married a smart cookie.”

I smile for the first time this morning as he shuffles through the files in his hands and pulls out our proposal. A compliment like that from an intelligent hardworking and professional guy like my cousin Jason means a lot and makes me feel great.

“I made a few minor corrections that I would like to go over with Dahlia,” he says, looking at the papers in his hands. He has some notes carefully written in the margins.

“I’ll fly her over on the next flight,” I say, feeling my pulse start to race in excitement. I’ve been looking for an excuse to bring her back here as soon as possible, and now that I have one, I’m thrilled.

“She doesn’t have to fly all the way over here,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll just call her about it.”

“But in person is so much better,” I answer quickly. “We can bounce ideas off her.” And after work, she can bounce up and down on my dick.

He grins as he looks up at me. “Are you missing your new wife?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say with a grin. “This is purely business.”

“Sure,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But I do have some other ideas to discuss with her if she does come.”

“She’ll be here sometime tomorrow,” I say confidently. Even if I have to send my father’s private jet to fetch her.

“All right,” he says, chuckling as he walks away. “You picked a good one, cuz. Don’t forget that.”

I won’t.

My head is swimming with thoughts of my sexy wife as I head into my office. I look around quickly, but nothing seems to be out of place or missing. I wonder what those weirdos were doing in here.

I get a tingling feeling as I sit down at my desk and reach for the phone. It’s been a few hours since I last spoke to Dahlia, and I’m already missing her like crazy. I dial her office number and wait with my pulse racing as the phone rings.

She hasn’t picked up the phone yet, but I hear breathing on the line. That’s strange.

“Hello,” I say between rings. The breathing stops immediately but no one answers.

Weird.

“Dahlia speaking,” my hot wife says when she picks up the phone. Her voice makes me forget about the strange breathing, and all of a sudden, I’m back in Summerland with my arms wrapped around her, breathing in her delicious vanilla perfume.

“Great news,” I say, grinning as I hold the phone to my ear.

“You got the company?”

“Not that great. You get to come back to Vegas.”

“I thought you said great news. I hated Vegas.”

“Jason said he absolutely needs you here first thing tomorrow. He has to go over your proposal for the legal office in Alabama and positively needs you here.”

“Can’t we do it over the phone?” she asks. “You know how much I love Summerland. I want to enjoy it while I still can.”

“Sorry,” I say with an evil grin that she can’t see. “You definitely have to come here. Jason’s words, not mine.”

“Okay,” she says reluctantly. “Am I staying at the same hotel?”

“This time you’ll be staying with me.”

“This trip is looking better and better.”

“Don’t forget to pack that sexy nightie I like. You know… for business.”

I can hear her smiling on the other end of the line. “Right,” she says. “For business. I hope you’re ready to work… hard.”

My father’s recent warning is still ringing in my ears, so I change the subject, trying to keep it professional. “You can take this opportunity to impress my father with the proposal.”

“I’m not sure if I can face your father yet,” she says, sounding down. “That was the most humiliating moment of my life.”

“He’s over it already,” I lie. “I just spoke with him, and he’s already forgotten all about it.”

“Yeah, right,” she answers. “He’s never going to forget that image. It’s probably seared into his brain forever.”

Unfortunately, I think she’s right.

“Do you hear breathing?” Dahlia asks.

I hold my breath to listen, but all I hear is a click like someone just hung up. Did someone tap my phones?

“I’ll have HR send you a plane ticket,” I say, ignoring it for now. “Don’t forget the nightie.”

“I won’t,” she says as my door swings open.

Shit. Nick walks in with a smug look on his very punchable face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell my wife before hanging up.

“You’ll see who tomorrow?” Nick asks, taking a seat in front of my desk even though I hadn’t offered him one.

“That’s none of your business.”

“This company will be mine very soon,” he says with a smirk, “so it is my business.”

“Well, if you must know,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Dahlia is coming over to get approval to set up the Alabama legal office. Remember? That’s the proposal that you totally fucked up and she nailed.”

“The only thing she nailed was the last nail in your coffin when we walked in on you while you were doing your Fifty Shades of Grey impression. Do you really think that Mack is going to give you the company after that embarrassing spectacle?”

“I’m sure he’d rather give it to me than to someone who’s stealing from the company.”

“This thing again?” he asks, rolling his eyes as he slides his sleeve over the new Rolex watch on his wrist. “You have no proof.”

“Not yet.”

“And what are you hiding?” he asks, eying me with a suspicious look. “Mr. Playboy for life shows up with a wife out of the blue that he’s been dating for two years? I don’t buy it. Something is up.”

“I’m in love.” That’s the truth now.

“The timing is convenient,” he says, staring me down with interrogating eyes. “Mack wanted you to settle down before you got the company, and you just show up with a ready-made wife? Sounds like you picked her out of a catalog or something.”

“Sounds like you’ve lost your mind. A fake wife? Who would stoop so low as to do something like that?” I say confidently, but I’m cringing on the inside.

“Somebody has to know something,” he says, eying me coldly as he gets up. “And I’m going to find out what it is.”

My heart starts pounding as he walks to the door. Isn’t he dating that girl from Hospitech? Emily? I wonder if she knows anything.

“Are you tapping my phone lines?” I ask.

He turns with a raised eyebrow. “Tapping your phone lines?” he repeats with a laugh. “Now who sounds like they’ve lost their mind?”

I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath after he’s gone. Tapped phone lines, constant competition, angry fathers. I close my eyes and dream that I’m back in Summerland with Dahlia where life is nice and simple.

I could get used to nice and simple.