“I’m serious,” Hannah said as she poured a round of Pinot Punch for the table. “Electric toothbrushes. I mean, who would have thought, right?” She rolled her eyes, then continued. “Although I guess I just lack imagination, because apparently the electric toothbrush vibrator craze is going strong. I just read this huge article online.”

Shelby pressed her legs together. There’d been no vibrators last night, but abandoning her panties had definitely made for a quality evening. She remembered the way his hands had felt—not to mention the rest of him—as she caught Nolan’s eye across the bar. The air crackled, and she knew his mind had traveled back with hers.

Yeah, she thought as she squeezed her legs together again. Nice to be on the same wavelength.

“It’s getting rowdy over here,” Reece said, grinning as he and Nolan came over to join the table. He put his hand on Jenna’s shoulder, and she reached up to touch it. “What are you talking about?”

“Dental hygiene,” Jenna said, and she, Shelby, Brooke, and Hannah melted into laughter again.

“This is that electric toothbrush thing, isn’t it?” Nolan asked.

Shelby looked up at him, intrigued, while across the table Hannah murmured, “Well, well.”

Nolan held his hands up in surrender. “Fodder for my show, people. Just fodder for my show.” He winked at Shelby. “Unless you want it to be more,” he added, and her cheeks burned so quick and so hot that she had no choice but to kick him under the table. A lame kick with no follow-through that only had him laughing.

“Nolan’s entering the Mr. April contest,” she announced, figuring that was punishment enough.

He sighed, but didn’t argue, and she did a mental fist pump, shoring up her victory.

“Not my idea,” he said, grinning at her. “I lost a bet. But the payment was worth it.”

“It’s all good,” Reece said. “Good promo for the bar and for your show. Honestly, we can’t lose.”

“No,” Nolan said, his gaze burning into Shelby, “you’re right. I definitely feel like a winner lately.”

---

“Hey, Mom,” Shelby said as she punched the button to accept the incoming call through her car’s audio system. “What’s up?” Shelby knew her voice sounded rattled, but it had been a crazy week at work, and now she was on her way to being late for the Young Professionals taping.

It would have been smarter to let her mom go straight to voicemail. The last time she’d talked to her mother, she’d been less than excited about Shelby dating Nolan. And today of all days, Shelby didn’t need anything negative in her head.

“I’m on my way to that Young Professionals thing I mentioned last week,” Shelby added, hoping her mom would understand that this was not the moment to mess with her daughter’s head.

“You’ll do great, sweetheart. No, I just called to let you know that I listened to Nolan’s show this morning.”

Shelby’s hands tensed on the steering wheel as she waited for her mom to continue, but the silence lingered for so long she was afraid the call dropped. “Mom? Are you there? What did you think?”

Mentally, she banged her head against the steering wheel. Considering Nolan’s usual routine, that was really not a question she ought to be asking her mom. Ever.

But especially not today.

“Well, honestly, I wish I’d realized how, um, racy it is. I wouldn’t have listened with your father in the car.”

“I didn’t listen this morning,” Shelby admitted, her stomach twisting a little. Surely the one time her parents listened wasn’t a time when Nolan went even more over the top. Was it? “I was prepping for a client meeting and this interview. But what did he say?”

“Oh, it was funny,” her mother said, but entirely lacking in conviction. “Just … raw. All about toothbrushes and electric shavers and—”

“Oh, God.” Shelby was going to kill Hannah for ever bringing that up. Honestly.

“Well, that was my reaction, too.”

Shelby winced; she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “It’s his brand, Mom. He does a raunchy morning show. It gets the audience going, makes drive time more fun.”

“Hmm.”

Shelby squirmed as her underarms started to sweat from nerves—and not nervousness about the upcoming show. “Listen, I need to go. I have to do this interview, and—”

“I know. I just worry. Alan was so devastated when you turned him down, and now you seem to have gone a little off the rails. I mean, these stories Nolan tells about him and this Paradox woman—that’s just him making up vulgar stories for his audience, I assume? I mean, Shelby, he’s not talking about the two of you, is he?”

“Mom, I don’t even know what stories you’re talking about.” Which was so not an answer, but maybe her mother with her genius level IQ, multiple degrees, and MENSA membership wouldn’t notice the obfuscation. “Listen, I’m almost to the library and I want to listen to some meditation tapes before the interview. Clear my head the way you told me to that time, remember?”

“Right. Of course. Good luck. You’re going to do great.” She’d half-expected her mother to insist they finish the Nolan-track of the conversation, but she should have known better. Her mom would never mess with her head before a professional event. Not on purpose, anyway.

As for Shelby having a great interview, she hoped her mother was right, but as she turned into the library parking lot and hurried to the community room that the organization had booked for the interview, she had a sinking feeling that her day was cursed.

The room was set up like a classroom, with two empty chairs for the speakers at the front, and rows of already-occupied chairs for the audience. The camera stood on a tripod in the middle of the aisle and focused only on the two chairs where Shelby and the host would be sitting.

“Hi!” A short woman with dark curly hair and a bright smile hurried over. “I’m Melanie. We talked on the phone.”

“Great to meet you.”

“Do you need some water? We’d like to start right on time. The library has something following us this week and they want us out exactly at a quarter ’til.”

“That’s fine,” Shel said, and the woman walked her through how the session would go. Intro. Chat. Q&A. Conclusion.

“Easy enough, right?” Melanie asked, and Shelby nodded, hoping it was as easy as it sounded and trying to ignore the portents of doom that had gathered in the car. Soon enough, they were settled, the camera was rolling, and Melanie was diving in.

“Good afternoon and welcome to Young Professionals Chat. I’m your host Melanie Hancock. For those of you just now discovering this channel, we’re a social media education and networking resource for young professionals, just like our name suggests. Our interviews stream live, but you can always find video at our website.”

She smiled broadly, then continued. “Today, we’re talking to Shelby Drake, a certified public accountant who works in consulting and client management at Brandywine Financial Consulting here in Austin. Shelby, thanks so much for joining us.”

“Happy to be here.”

“You took the CPA exam relatively young. Can you tell us about that?”

As soon as the question was out, Shelby realized her worries were unfounded. She could talk about being a CPA until the end of time.

Melanie continued. “A lot of our viewers are college students still trying to decide on a career, so we like to talk with our guests about both the work and play aspects of their lives. I imagine a high pressure job like that means that you have a limited social life.”

“Well, accounting tends to come in waves, with the most crazy times being around tax season. And that’s often true even if you’re doing work that doesn’t specifically entail filing tax returns for your clients. But because of those built in highs and lows, there are periods where evenings and weekends are reasonably free.”

“Now, you’re not married, so I’m going to assume that you date. Do you tend to date within the profession?”

“Oh, not necessarily.” There was really no reason for trepidation, but Shelby had the strangest sense that the chat was about to go off the rails.

“Are you seeing anyone in particular?”

“Um, well, that’s—I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about getting that specific on a live show.”

“Understandable. But we’re really interested in how a professional like yourself deals with things like client relations if his or her partner has a job or a personality that lacks a certain decorum.”

Her mouth went dry. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Well, you and Nolan Wood have been seen together a few times, and I believe he escorted you to the DTRR benefit recently. And anyone who’s lived in Austin for more than five minutes knows that his show can get a little raunchy. The name of the show itself is a double entendre, Mornings With Wood.”

“I don’t think any of my clients judge me by my friends. And I’d say most of my clients have a good sense of humor, too.”

“But what if you and Mr. Wood were dating?”

“You want me to discuss hypotheticals? I didn’t think this was that kind of program.”

“It’s a program for helping young people navigate professional pitfalls. I hope you don’t think we’re crossing a line, but since the rumors are that you’re dating Nolan Wood—and since you’re a professional woman with some very conservative clients—we’re wondering how you separate, from a professional point of view—your work life from your private life, especially when it crosses into his and into the public.”

“I—” She had no idea how to answer. Worse, all she wanted to do was bolt.

“Like this morning’s episode, for example. He did a whole schtick on toothbrushes as vibrators. And when…”

Melanie’s words faded out, overpowered by the memory of the disgust in her mother’s voice when she talked about this morning’s program. And the memory of just how racy last night’s conversation at The Fix had become.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, interrupting Melanie. “Maybe you’re trying to skew this program toward a tabloid audience and you’re using me to do it, but I really can’t speak to the subject. Nolan and I are friends. That’s all.” Not true, but also not Melanie’s business. “And,” she added, rising to her feet, “I think we’re done.”

She walked calmly out, knowing damn well she was still on camera. And though her shirt was damp with nervous sweat, she felt pretty damn ballsy for sticking up for herself.

That feeling vanished the moment she got home, intending to change her sweat-stained blouse before heading back into the office. Something was off. Just slightly askew. It took her a second to realize that the sweat jacket Nolan had left draped over the arm of her love seat was gone.

Not exactly a portent of doom, but seeing—or rather not seeing—sent apprehension flooding through her.

“Nolan?”

No answer. Not that she expected one. He should still be at the studio, prepping for the next day’s show. She headed back to the bedroom, ostensibly to change shirts, but really because she hoped he’d be back there, sitting on the bed waiting for her.

He wasn’t. But the drawer he used was open and empty a single sheet of white paper was on the bed, a message written in Nolan’s choppy scrawl.

Heard the show.

Need some time.

N.