Hailey was ten minutes early on purpose.

Like any meeting where power plays were key, this one was made even more so by being in a restaurant of Serena’s choosing and at her request.

“I’d like to talk to you alone,” she’d said when she’d phoned Hailey the day before. “Can we meet?”

“Of course.” Hailey had affected a blasé tone, even as she’d made an oh-shit face to a gesticulating Max. “Where would be best for you?”

Of course Ethan’s polished fiancée would choose the Ritz-Carlton, scene of Hailey’s most recent embarrassing moment. Or moments, if you counted the ass-over-head maneuver and her entanglement with a sexy Genie who refused to stay in the ‘client’ box she’d repeatedly tried to shove him into.

It had been a few days since Ryder had crowded her against the doorjamb, and every time her mind wandered, it was to a place where he’d taken the moment further.

Every time she wondered if she’d have let him. If she should, if only to prove to herself Ethan didn’t hold that much power over her. Ryder, with the mischievous eyes and the teasing, slow grin, promised pleasure with every caress.

She bet he tasted like sin and mangoes.

Luckily, there had only been a brief mention of the charity auction in the Genie gossip newspaper, the Star, the winner’s name printed without any more information. Nothing about her background or where she worked, thank God.

Even so, Hailey still had had to buy out every copy for a week at the newsstand closest to the office, just in case of any follow-up articles. Megan adored the rag and had loudly complained of it being sold out.

Hailey was now living on beans after forking out a hundred dollars for papers, but she wasn’t ready to deal with what her friends would say about her bidding on—let alone winning—a wish. Such an impulsive move. Not like her at all.

Then they’d look at Ryder. And then they’d think they knew everything, when even Hailey had no clue where and when her life had leapt off course.

It made her jumpy, wondering when he of the amber eyes was going to pop up. He was the unexpected, and considering the reward riding on this wedding, she couldn’t afford to be sidetracked by humor, honesty, a dimple, a cute butt, nice pecs, a wicked laugh, knowing hands . . .

Ahem. Not sidetracked.

After a pep talk from Max, who had threatened to accompany Hailey—as if she was ten and needed her mom to come with her—Hailey had headed into battle.

She’d decided to walk to work off the sins she’d indulged in over the past few days, especially when the temperature hovered around a refreshing sixty. The day was washed with autumn colors, a palette of orange and green, red and gray. In the air hung that crisp just-rained scent, though it wasn’t forecasted.

It cleared her head enough that by the time she was seated in the Ritz’s restaurant for high tea, a favorite of hers, Hailey had her business head screwed on. She felt calm, rational, completely unbiased. Her hair was smoothed into a simple twist, her makeup emphasized her eyes, and she wore a skirt suit of graphite gray. If she had had a label, it’d read understated, elegant businesswoman.

Postscript: Take your pity and shove it where you’ve had fat sucked out.

Maybe not completely unbiased.

Hailey smiled at the waiter who brought her sparkling Perrier. “Thank you.”

She took a sip and swallowed, trying to bash the nerves into submission, but it was a little like playing Whack-a-Mole. To distract herself, she passed the time by discreetly snooping on the other patrons.

The restaurant was the height of elegance, business people schmoozing clients and high society taking a break, doing lunch. Nothing louder than quiet chatter would be accepted here, not when it was a little past noon and high tea was happening.

On reflection, it was the perfect place to come. Serena, after all, cared far too much about appearances to make a scene in a crowded restaurant. Or whatever she planned to do that she needed Hailey to meet her alone.

Nerves tiptoed into her belly and she took another gulp of Perrier.

Never let them see you sweat, Hailey May.

Well, then, she needed another distraction, fast.

Hailey was musing on Ryder’s muscles—namely how many there were and how they’d feel under her fingers—when Serena walked in.

She saw the Choos first, a stunning pair of silver heels that made Hailey’s already-green eyes darken with envy. They elongated Serena’s already-stunning long legs and perfectly accented the white sundress she wore. The diamond on her finger flashed in the light that bathed the room as she waved away the hostess. More diamonds at her ears sparkled in her dark hair, a pair of designer sunglasses perched in the perfect waves.

“Bitch-Face,” Hailey muttered as she pushed back her chair to stand. Why must there be women who existed to make others feel inferior? She forced her lips into what she hoped was a smile and not anything that resembled constipation. “Serena. Nice to see you again.”

“Hailey.” Serena nodded as the waiter pulled her chair back. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course. Erica Pearce is a full-service company dedicated to you and your wedding.”

Serena’s lips twitched in a semblance of a bland smile. “There isn’t need to be so formal. That’s why I asked to speak with you alone.” Without looking at the waiter, she accepted the menu.

Hailey smiled at him as he passed over the other. “I assume you’re full of ideas,” she said, scanning the list of dishes. Something she couldn’t drop on herself or spill or choke on. Salad, it was.

“I am. Would it be corny to say I’ve been dreaming of this day since I was a little girl?”

Oh, so five years ago?

Play nice. Play nice. Play nice.

“Not at all. I think every woman dreams of her wedding.” Hailey’s grip tightened as the words left her mouth. After three years, she definitely had had images of white dresses and peach roses in her head, with Ethan so handsome in a tux at the end of the altar.

Serena did that twitchy smile again. Her nails were French manicured, her ring exquisite. “Yes.”

After they’d both ordered their salads, Serena took a sip of the white wine she’d ordered to go with lunch. She threaded her hands on the table. “May I be frank?”

Hailey scouted the exits as discreetly as she could. One directly ahead, one behind. “By all means.”

“Ethan has obviously told me of your past relationship.”

“Yes.”

“We don’t keep secrets.” Serena’s gaze was steady with a shadow of pity. “He told me why he ended it.”

She’d just bet he had. Turns out, someone’s blood really could boil.

Hailey put a lid on it and tried to simmer down, clenching the cloth napkin on her knee until her fingers whitened. “That was six months ago, Serena. I’m over it.”

“I don’t think you are. I saw the way you were looking at him in the meeting.”

“If I was looking, it was for nothing more than professional interest.” Hailey’s toes curled in their nude heels. “Erica has entrusted me with your wedding and I’m going to see to it that it dazzles you.”

“Hailey, I don’t doubt you will make sure our wedding is spectacular. Erica would allow no less. But I don’t want to see you making eyes at my fiancé every time I walk in the room. It makes me uncomfortable and it makes Ethan uncomfortable.”

Making eyes? If she’d been doing anything, it was trying not to show how bitter she still was. And apparently, she’d done too good a job.

“You’ve talked to him about this?” Hailey said through tight teeth.

Inwardly she began to count. One, two, three . . .

“We don’t keep secrets, remember? He felt very uncomfortable in that room with you. It’s obvious you haven’t moved on, and I understand.” Serena’s words might have been compassionate but her eyes were direct. “Ethan is everything a woman could hope to find. He’s handsome, kind, a dreamer. Someone who makes sure you notice life as it goes by. But he’s mine now. You need to move on and find somebody new.”

The pity was so thick, it choked. That it was coming from Ms. Perfect made it ten times harder to swallow.

Serena was right on one count: Hailey hadn’t moved past the breakup. How could she when she was all too aware of every flaw in her makeup after Ethan’s accusations?

But the idea she still wanted Ethan—a man who’d put himself first, who’d always made her feel like she wasn’t trying hard enough, and a man who’d ultimately had torn her self-esteem into confetti? Well, if this wasn’t the Ritz-Carlton, she might have screamed the place down with laughter.

She wasn’t that pathetic, thank you.

A little pathetic, but hey, small steps.

Serena sighed. “I don’t want to come off as a bitch. I wanted to clear the air, make sure you understand my position in this. And I think, because it’s so clear you still entertain feelings for Ethan, you should only deal with me from now on. Limit your contact before the wedding.” Twitch, twitch went her lips. “If nothing else, it’ll be less painful for you.”

Hailey held on to her composure by her fingertips. She would not resort to name-calling, shouting, spitting, or reaching for any of the five colorful phrases she’d learned from her dad’s navy buddies when she’d been a teenager.

Though if anyone deserved to be called a—

A pair of hands landed on her shoulders. Before she could say “Wha—” she was swiveled in her seat and yanked upward to a pair of soft, warm lips. A familiar, delicious scent snuck through her senses.

Her mind blanked.

She blindly grasped Ryder’s shirt as his mouth coaxed and teased hers into following his lead. Her knees jellied; her grip tightened as she fought to stay upright. Everything disappeared but this kiss and the need for it to never end.

A gasp fled from her mouth to his as she remembered to breathe.

One hand cupped her cheek as they drew back to look at each other. His eyes were honeyed amber brown, sparkling with their own internal lights. Heat rippled to her core.

“Hi, baby,” Ryder said with a lazy grin as she continued to play mute. “I missed you.”