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Carla put down her glass and hugged Amy. “And they love you. Thanks for everything. You holler if you need anything.”

“What I need is jewelry.”

“Anything but that.”

Ryker got up and did his normal run before work. He pushed himself harder than normal because he’d asked for a half day of PTO, it was Monday and he wanted to Skype with Amy. He had a plan. He’d had enough of the bullshit and it was now time for Operation Face-To-Face. He was positive he could talk her into a trip west.

By the time he got back to his townhome, he was a sweaty mess, so he took a long, hot shower and plotted out exactly what he was going to say. First, he was just going to go with the flow, then would come the invite. He knew Amy had more than enough time off accrued that she could leave her restaurant for a long weekend. What’s more, part of her was already out the door after some of the bullshit that Noreen had pulled.

After he’d gulped down his protein drink and poured himself a cup of coffee, it was time. He settled in the corner of his favorite leather couch, pulled his laptop onto his lap, and dialed Amy’s number. He didn’t have to wait long for her to answer, but she didn’t show her face.

“What’s the deal? Don’t I get to see Amy-bedhead this morning?” he gently teased.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she asked grumpily.

Ryker laughed. “I took the morning off. I’ve been up for hours, and I would have thought you would have been too. Don’t you have a shit-ton of laundry to do?”

“Go to hell,” she yawned. “I was out late.”

Ryker’s hackles rose. “With who?” He tried to keep his tone mellow.

“Lawrence and a bunch of others from the restaurant had tickets to this new club, Rising Desire, so I went with them.”

She yawned again.

“When did you get home?”

“Three.”

It was eight a.m. Ryker thought about calling back, but he was too jazzed.

“Did you have a good time?”

“The best. I think I found a chef.”

“That’s great! You’ve got to put the video on now.”

“Okay, okay, okay. But I’m warning you, Medusa would look better than me after a late night at a club.”

“I’ll risk turning to stone.”

When the video went on, Ryker did his best not to snort, but it wasn’t easy. She wasn’t kidding, she looked like she’d been rode hard and put away wet.

“I see you trying not to snicker, Ryker McQueen,” she sighed. “I looked in the mirror when I brushed my teeth this morning, I know what you’re seeing. I’ll have you know, I actually finger-combed my hair.”

“It’s not your hair, I love your hair. It looks like freakin’ sex hair! It’s the raccoon eyes that have me laughing. I’m thinking you have a thing for eyeliner.”

“Maybe,” she drawled out. “Now that we’ve judged my appearance do you want to hear about my chef or not?”

“Does this mean you’re finally considering taking Lark up on the loan?”

“This time it’s Lark’s mother, not Lark who wants to give me the loan to start my restaurant,” Amy told him. He could see the gleam in her eyes. Even with all the eyeliner and mascara smudge, her eyes were beautiful.

“Lark told you that?” Ryker asked.

“Nope, Beatrice flew out to D.C. She said she had some symposium she had to attend, but I know she was bullshitting me because she spent all of Monday with me. I don’t know how she knew that Monday’s are my day off, but she knew.”

“Gazillionaires have their ways of knowing everything,” Ryker laughed. “So, you are going to take her up on the loan, right?”