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“He’s taken an extended leave of absence,” Kostya answered.

“Voluntary or involuntary?” Landon asked.

Gideon turned around in his seat to glare at Landon. “Don’t ask questions like that.”

“Landon, I think that our boss just made it a voluntary leave of absence.” Ryker smiled.

The rumble of his Harley gave him a sense of peace. Ryker desperately needed it after the last five days. Well, six days if you counted the twenty-four hours of sleep he’d copped in his townhome.

He took the long way up to D.C. starting with the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. When he stopped at Bethany Beach for fish and chips, he called Amy’s number. Of course, he got her voicemail.

“Amy, it’s Ryker. I’d really like to see you in person. Sweetheart, I think that the woman I got to know so well would understand why I would. I’m taking a bit of a road trip up your way to clear my head. I’ll be staying for two nights at the Kimpton Hotel Monaco in D.C. starting tonight. Since it’s Sunday, and tomorrow is your day off, I’m hoping that it’ll work in with your schedule. I know the bar there has happy memories for Kostya and Lark, so I’m hoping you’ll meet me there. You have my number.” He chuckled. “Boy, do you have my number.” Then he hung up and looked down at his phone. This was it. Amy was either the woman he thought she was or she wasn’t, but either way, he’d find out.

He got up from the picnic table and threw away the remains of his lunch and got back onto his bike. He looked up at the blue sky. It was a beautiful fall day. He needed to remember that even if Amy didn’t call. He needed to remember that there would be a tomorrow, and another tomorrow, and other beautiful days.

Amy listened to Ryker’s message again. Then pressed the button to listen again for the twentieth time in an hour, but somehow managed to press delete instead.

“Oh no!”

Her hand trembled as she thought how not to delete the message. She scrolled through her phone and found the message in deleted messages.

“Don’t clear all. Just don’t clear all.”

She’d just stumbled into her apartment, and all she could think about was Ryker McQueen. It was nine o’clock, after the dinner shift, and she looked like something the cat dragged in. She pulled a lock of her hair and sniffed it.

“Ewwww,” she made a face. She smelled like fish and garlic. Even though it was her restaurant, she was still sometimes stuck serving food, go figure.

She looked down at her feet. She’d carried her heels up the inside stairway as she hobbled up to her door. Her feet had already swelled up two shoe sizes—there was no way she could shove them back into the stilettos. Thank God, walking home meant she only had to walk up two flights of stairs now that she, Beatrice, and the bank owned the building.

She tried to hurry into the little bathroom, but her legs were trembling so badly, she wasn’t sure she was going to make it. Hell, her whole body was trembling. Was it possible she hadn’t missed her shot with Ryker?

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Was she even the same woman who stopped taking Ryker’s phone calls? Her head dropped.

I am.

For two months she had been regretting how she’d left things with the man, then the longer she didn’t take his calls or call him back, the worse it got. Then it got to the point where she knew he hated her, and she didn’t blame him. No wonder he showed up at her restaurant and made fun of her. Who could blame him? She deserved it.

She backed out of her bathroom and looked at her new apartment—with the new address that her mom didn’t know about. Two months of no middle-of-the-night harassment had really helped her get clear about what she wanted out of life. So had a few long talks with Lark. She wanted what her friend had, and her gut had been telling her that Ryker might be the one all along. Now with some time and distance, she could clear the air.

She stepped back into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror again.

“You’re a big girl. You can do this.”

Amy looked over at the wall next to her bathroom door. She remembered when she used to have 2x4 cards with self-affirmations written on them and stuck there so she would see them every morning. You’re Worthy was always the top one. She was worthy. She was worthy of taking a chance.

She stripped fast and dove into the shower.

“Damn!” She got out before she’d turned on the water and rummaged under her sink for her expensive peach shampoo and conditioner set, then she hopped back into the shower. Her bathroom was so foggy, by the time she was done, it was a wonder that she could even see the floor, let alone the mirror. Luckily, she knew how to handle her hair with her eyes closed. First the blow-dryer with the diffuser. With her blow-dryer and the good product, her hair should come out looking good.

Amy looked at her nails. They were plain and short, but that’s what she needed at the restaurant, so that’s how they’d remain. While she was blow-drying her hair, she started thinking about what she had in her wardrobe. Something that she could wear with strappy shoes, since her feet wouldn’t fit into another pair of closed-toe stilettos.

By the time she was done, Amy looked at herself in the mirror and gave herself a satisfied wave goodbye, and ran out the door to grab her Uber. She texted Ryker that she was on her way and that she would meet him in the bar. She immediately got a thumbs-up back.

He was such a guy.

“Here’s an extra five on top of the tip on the credit card,” Amy said as she handed over the bill to the driver. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Thanks, Miss.”