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The drive seems to take forever, and Fall Out Boy’s “Irresistible” blaring through my speakers sums up exactly where I’m at. Like second-hand smoke, I breathed Sloan in when we were together, but I don’t know what the hell she’s doing to me. I’m twisted in knots.

By the time I arrive at the charming inn on the coast, guests are taking coffee on the lanai overlooking the ocean. Keeley leads others through a morning yoga session. Maxon kisses her as he heads for the office he shares with his brother, Griff. But his raised brow and his WTF expression tell me to brace myself.

I’ve barely gotten out of the car when Nia slams out the front door and marches straight for me, rounding belly and all. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

What’s the right answer here? It would cool her down if I admitted fault, but I hate to show weakness. Besides, look how well that worked out when I tried to talk to Sloan yesterday.

Nope. I need another strategy—and a genius one occurs to me a split second later. I can disarm Nia and get some intel at once. “Probably, but I could use your help. I thought I spoke female pretty well, thanks to my sisters, but I misread this one.”

Nia rolls her dark eyes, and the flush staining her umber cheeks tells me she’s pissed as hell. “We’re all still on the same team. Right?”

Is she questioning my loyalty to Evan and Stratus? “Of course.”

“Just checking. After your trip to Dallas, I wasn’t sure,” she jabs again, then softens. “I didn’t sleep much last night. I’m cranky. Follow me.”

She leads me around the main house to the ohana, set back in a private garden with a secluded bench swing. When she climbs the stairs and opens the door, I look past the rumpled bed with the robe draped across the corner to the spectacular ocean views that fill every window.

“This is our war room for the next three days,” Nia says, gesturing me to a bistro chair in the corner. The accompanying table has been moved to the lanai outside. In its place sits a card table, where her laptop is already humming.

“Three days?”

“Until Evan boards his flight home, we’ll be here supporting him in every way we can—facts, reports, charts, and whatever else Wynam wants—so we get them to sign on the dotted line. Don’t count on a social life until then.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Especially since I haven’t been able to shake off my fascination with Sloan.

“Don’t plan on sleeping much, either. We have tons of work to do, starting with a damage-control strategy.”

I’m sure work piled on my desk during my absence, but nothing is more important to Stratus’s future than securing the Wynam deal. “I’m all yours.”

She settles into the chair across from me. “Good. Before we start figuring out how to untangle this mess, tell me how we got here in the first place. Evan was vague, except to say that you got played. I never thought I’d see the day a woman pulled one over on you.”

Yeah. Me, either.

I fill Nia in, minus the juicy details. Not that I want to vomit up this crap, but she’ll keep after me until I do. Besides, whatever I don’t tell her, Evan will. Explaining just speeds up the process so we can root-cause this bad boy and figure out how to untangle my disaster. And I’m hoping Nia can help with my Sloan problem. After all, she’s savvy. She’ll be able to interpret the fiery redhead.

When I get to the end of my story, she simply shakes her head. “I’d ask if your balls are bigger than your brains, Shaw, but I already know the answer. No wonder she’s gone scorched earth.”

The reason seems obvious to Nia…but I didn’t foresee this much anger. “I should have expected it?”

“Of course. God, men can be so dumb. She’s coming for you and she’ll destroy whatever’s in her path.” Nia sighs and makes her way into the kitchenette. “I haven’t been drinking coffee during my pregnancy, but I’m going to need some for this day.”

“Is Sloan doing it because she’s vindictive?” I can’t picture that. She’s got a good heart.

Nia shoves a pod in the single-cup brewer and presses the button. “Are you really that lost?”

Isn’t it obvious? “Spell it out.”

“She’s angry, right?”

“Furious. I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I tried to mess with her business.”

Nia shakes her head. “No. Well, you did. But Stratus has been doing that simply by competing for a while now. She didn’t come after you—or any of us—guns blazing, then.”

Nia has a point. “So you’re saying she’s coming after me now because I made it personal.”

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