Winston Sinclair is wearing a dark suit with a crimson tie. His hair is perfectly in place, and the gray at his temples looks far more extensive here than it does under the fluorescent lights of Pine Manor. The man is well over six feet tall, and if I didn’t already know what a horrible person he is, I’d actually think he seems like a decent guy. He looks fit and well-groomed and smart, just like his son. But, I know better. I know, in this case, looks are incredibly deceiving.

The smirk on his face is a good indication of what’s underneath the slick facade.

At first, I’m at a loss. I just stand in the doorway, not knowing what to do or say. Of course, I know what I want to do and say, but now that I’m alone with him in the doorway of my apartment, I’m not sure either would be the best idea. My stomach jumps into my throat, choking me with fear. A hit of fight-or-flight-invoking adrenaline surges through my veins. And yet, I don’t let it take over my body. I don’t move a single muscle. I just stand here, trying to process the hows and whys of his unexpected visit and what I’m going to do about it.

“May I come in?”

This is it. This is the only chance I’ll probably ever have to make him take it back. It isn’t the way I planned, but I swallow my fear and buckle up for the ride. To hell with the risks.

“Certainly,” I answer, but I don’t step aside. I plant my feet into the floor. He hesitates for a moment, examining my face carefully before turning himself sideways and sliding in between my body and the doorframe. I look straight into his eyes as he walks past, catching a quick, intense flash of what’s to come.

I close the door and turn around to find him checking out my apartment. His back is to me as his head pivots and examines the place from top to bottom. He puts his hands in his pockets and turns to face me. “Not exactly Buckingham Palace, is it?”

My stare is unyielding, absorbing every detail his eyes will share. I’m watching his future—studying it—with an energy unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Sinclair?” I move one step closer to him.

“I know what you two are doing, and I want it to stop. I know everything about you, young lady, and I’m here to ask you nicely to walk away from my son.”

He’s here to what?

“I’m certain you don’t know everything about me, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Ahh…but I do know everything.” He nods his head and narrows his eyes. “A man in my position has a very easy time discovering such things. All I have to do is ask the right people, and I can get whatever information I need.”

If his driver is the one who’s been watching me from the black car, then Mr. Sinclair knew Adam was in Philadelphia long before he decided to show up at Pine Manor. Apparently that’s what being a giant political dickhead will get you. The ability to know what you don’t deserve to.

“Even if you did know everything there is to know about me, what would any of it have to do with Adam?”

“Everything,” he says. “He deserves far better than what you have to offer.”

“Is that why you filed the complaint? To get rid of me?”

“I filed the complaint to get your attention.” He takes his hands out of his pockets and runs one of them against the back edge of my sofa. “And if you don’t walk away from him, I’m capable of doing far worse.”

“You don’t get to decide who your son loves.”

“Who he loves? Loves?” His face splits into a gigantic smile. “He doesn’t love you. He only thinks he does because you’re the exact opposite of what his family wants for him. You are his way of getting back at us for whatever he thinks we’ve done wrong. And, while we’re at it, you don’t love him, either. You only love his multimillion-dollar trust fund because you’ve got nothing to your name but a couple sets of scrubs and a guitar.”

I want to kick him in the crotch. “Your informant seems to have missed a few details when they told you about me, Mr. Sinclair.” I sound calm and sweet, even though inside I am spitting fire. “Your son’s trust fund means nothing to me. I don’t care about money. I only care about happiness.”

“Thank you for the refresher course in childish idealism, sweetheart.” He picks his hand up off the back edge of the couch and crosses his arms over his chest. “But I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. It’s just that, if what you say is true, I’m going to need some proof.” His words are slow. Calculated. “So how about this…how about I give you a choice between money and happiness, and see which one you pick?”

Winston Sinclair steps up to me, lowering his face to mine. My gaze drills into his eyes, unwavering and watchful and deep. It’s like a movie, and I’m going to watch it until the end. I won’t look away until I’ve memorized every single detail. I’m absorbing it all.

“You have two choices,” he continues. “One: you can do what I say and walk away from Adam. If you do, I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars, and I’ll let you keep your so-called career. But you’ll have to leave Pine Manor and work somewhere else. End of story. Or, two: you can stay with my son and have your happiness. But if you do, I’ll file a lawsuit against Pine Manor and have your license revoked. I’ll pay one of your coworkers whatever the hell they want to testify they saw you hurt my mother. And when that happens, I have no doubt Adam will be the one leaving you.” He smiles and tilts his head to the side, as if he’s the cleverest thing to ever set foot on the planet. “When I’m done, you’ll never work in this state again. But then, I’m sure your sister would love to have you back in Houma.”

Anger surges through me, ripping apart my self-control. I’m sorting out what to say when he adds, “And if you tell Adam about any of this, you won’t have a choice at all. Everything will be gone. I’ll take it all away. I will ruin any chance you’ve ever had for happiness or money.” He uncrosses his arms and puts his hands back in his pockets, rocking back on his heels as he does. “You and I both know people who hurt the elderly never fare well in the prison system, K’acy.”

The words don’t come to me fast enough. Nothing does. I’m frozen. But in that moment of absolute stillness, I finally see it. I see everything there is to see. The movie in his eyes ends, and all the bitterness and fear instantly drain from my body because I know something Winston Sinclair does not.

“I’ll take the twenty thousand dollars.”

After the words are out, a huge smile settles across my face. And his.

“So much for childish idealism. Looks like money wins again.”

“Imagine that.”

“You’re smarter than you look, young lady, I’ll give you that.” He nods in smug satisfaction. “I’ll withdraw my complaint first thing tomorrow morning, and my driver will drop off half of your cash at noon. You’ll get the other half at week’s end, just to be sure you’re holding up your end of the bargain.” He offers his hand to me, and I take it, knowing what will happen when I do. The instant our palms connect, fire pulses though my veins, initiating a jacked-up, menacing version of “Soul to Squeeze.” Raw and aggressive bass notes burn through me, igniting my soul with strength and purpose. Confirming that I’ve made the right choice. “I’ll give you a week to leave Pine Manor. And my son. But you might not want to wait until the last minute. In my experience, quicker is always better.”

“I’ll do my best.”

He lets go of my hand, and the music inside my head instantly falls silent. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” When he reaches the door, Winston Sinclair turns and faces me before twisting the knob. “You probably wouldn’t have wanted to be with Adam for much longer anyway. He’s going to be a very different man as soon as he manages to grow up. One that doesn’t give a damn about happiness.”

“A man like his father?”

He smiles at me one last time before walking out the door.

* * *

Jarrod is on his way to work when he answers the phone.

“Hey, Kace.”

“Hey.”

“What’s up?” I hear skepticism in his voice. He’s clearly wondering why I called. There’s no real reason; I just needed someone to calm my nerves until I hear from Adam.

“Great gig last night, wasn’t it?”

“Yep.” He pauses for a second before he asks, “Is everything all right? You never call me from work.” He knows Sundays are a busy day at Pine Manor because we’ve talked about it on many occasions.

“I got suspended.”

“From work? Why?” His surprise is front and center. Unmistakable.

“Adam’s father didn’t like something I said so he filed a complaint.”

“Are you kidding me? The dude had you suspended because of something you said? Who does that kind of shit?”

“Guys like Winston Sinclair. I told you he was not a nice man.”

“Wow. What the hell did you say that pissed him off so much?”

“He was being a jerk to his mother, so I reminded him that she has Alzheimer’s. And then I told him he should probably go back to Seattle sooner rather than later.”

“Aww, man!” He chuckles under his breath, as if he finds it funny. “That’s awesome!”

“No, it’s not. I must’ve really made him angry because the guy lied and said that not only did I talk disrespectfully to him, but I also mistreated his mother.”

“That’s a hell of a thing to lie about.”

“Yep. And now I’ve been suspended until the investigation is complete.” A lump of sadness rises into my throat, causing my voice to choke with emotion, even though I know for a fact all of this will be over by the week’s end.

Jarrod must hear my sadness because he abruptly changes from playfulness to sincerity and understanding. “They know you there, Kace. They know you would never hurt anyone. I bet you’ll be back to work by the end of the week.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Do you want me to call off work and come over to your place? We can drink beer and plot your revenge all day long.”

It doesn’t sound like a half-bad idea.

“You know I’d love to, but Adam is already on his way. He went over to his dad’s this morning to try to talk some sense into the man. I doubt he had any success, but it was sweet of him to try.” In reality, I hope Adam was completely unsuccessful. Because I hope he was long gone by the time his father even got back to the hotel room.

I don’t tell Jarrod about Mr. Sinclair’s visit, of course. He doesn’t need to know about what else Mr. Sinclair has done. He doesn’t need to know about the man’s ultimatum. Because it doesn’t matter anyway.

“Well, I hope Adam manages to fix this for you.” We’re both quiet for a few seconds before he thoughtfully adds, “Be safe, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Jar.”

“You bet. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I wait for two full hours, folding laundry and nervously organizing my apartment, before I finally hear from Adam. He calls to ask me if he can come over because he doesn’t want to tell me what happened over the phone. My gut sinks low when I realize he did, in fact, talk to his father today. I listen for hints in his words and his voice, but I get no indication of what transpired.

Adam rings my doorbell a little after three o’clock. He’s borderline chipper when he kisses me on the head and says hello. He looks energized and content. Both bode well for the outcome of the story he’s about to tell.

The first thing he does after greeting me is apologize for taking so long. Apparently he stopped back in to see his grandmother for a quick visit before he came to see me. He says he felt badly about leaving her in such a hurry this morning. She was fine, though. In fact, he doesn’t think she even realized he was gone.

As Adam talks, he walks across the room and sits down on my couch. When he gets there, he motions for me to sit down next to him. The moment my bottom hits the cushion, his arm is around me, pulling me in close. I rest my head on Adam’s shoulder, wondering what he’s going to say.

“You’ll be happy to know my father has changed his mind. He’s going to drop the complaint tomorrow.”

I sit bolt upright, as if I’ve just heard the biggest surprise of my life.

“Really?” I pour as much enthusiasm into my voice as possible. I hate lying to him, but for now at least, it’s my only option.

“Yes, really.” Adam leans back against the couch, props his feet up on the coffee table, and puts his hands behind his head.

He’s obviously quite proud of his perceived victory. I might as well stroke his ego while I have the chance. He’s a pretty modest guy, so who knows when I’ll get another opportunity. “My hero,” I say as I lay my head on his chest, on top of his heart, and listen to it beat. It’s strong and reassuring.

“I sat on the floor outside his hotel room for an hour and a half before he showed up. And when he finally got there, I just started talking and I didn’t stop until I got what I wanted. I can’t believe the man actually listened to reason, but he did. I told him either he accepts you, or he loses me. I told him the ball was in his court because you aren’t going anywhere.”

I’m proud of him for standing up to his father, even if the outcome was predetermined. “That’s amazing. Really. I can’t thank you enough.” I snuggle in closer, enjoying his happiness. And mine.

“You’ll be back with Gram, and everyone else, in no time at all.” He pulls one of his hands out from behind his head and starts playing with my hair. His silence tells me he’s thinking hard about something. After inhaling a deep breath he adds, “I’m sorry, K’acy.”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry my father is the kind of asshole who would do something like this. And I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“The things that hurt the most are always the things that make you stronger.” Words I hope he remembers himself in a few days, when it’s his turn to hurt.

He twists his fingers through my hair. They work their way to the base of my neck and then gently tilt my head upward until my gaze meets his.

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

I smile at his words. “Copy that, and send it back.”

His mouth covers mine, and for a moment, I forget about what the next few days will bring. I forget about his father and his grandmother and all the complications of life. It’s just his mouth kissing mine, devouring me with thoughtfulness and love. Each time his tongue meets mine, a chorus of notes flits between us, inciting my body and rousing my senses. As his hands wander across my skin, they conjure Miriam Hansen’s promise and remind me of the importance of us.

Adam lifts my shirt up over my head and lays me down on the sofa, covering my lips and neck with kisses. He tugs my bra straps down off my shoulders and reaches around my back to unhook the clasp. His hands are smooth and sure as they pull my jeans and panties down over my hips and drop them onto the floor. He’s hovering over me, caressing me with his eyes and his fingers, tempting me with his light. Adam kneels on the floor and takes off his shirt, using his mouth to tease my breasts as his hand glides down my stomach and between my legs. I lift my hips to meet his hand, relishing every stroke of his fingers, wishing they could go deeper into me. Light sliding into dark. Yang disappearing into yin.

An orchestra of sound weaves its way through my body, every note echoing through my nerve endings and lifting me higher. I am vibrating with want, wrapped in Adam’s song—his symphony—and silently asking him to never stop.

I reach down and unfasten his jeans, taking him into my hand and feeling his stiff warmth in my palm. His hips push forward against my hand as I sit up on the sofa. He rises to his feet and cups my head in his hands, guiding himself into my mouth and filling it with his hard flesh. My mouth latches onto him, sucking and teasing until I know he’s aching for release.

But before release comes, Adam steps back and drops out of my mouth. He pulls me up off the couch, grabs my hips, and lifts me until my legs are wrapped around his waist. He turns and puts my back against the wall, entering me and taking what is his to take, what’s always been his to take.

Our souls dance together as our bodies fall into a vibrant and chaotic syncopation. Eventually, release spreads through us, one in chorus with the other, our minds littered with euphoria and ecstasy. Love.

Adam carries me to the bedroom and we lie there together, each of us lost in our own mind. But after the endorphins fade, my thoughts only bring questions, doubts.

For a brief moment, I wonder what will happen if I’m wrong. What if what I saw in Winston Sinclair’s eyes isn’t the truth? What if Adam somehow finds out about our deal before it happens? He won’t understand how things are. He won’t understand my choice. Or my gift. Everything will change if he finds out.

But then I remember I’ve never been wrong before. I’ve always seen the truth.

Why would this time be any different?