I open my door and go to my desk, lifting the cover of my laptop and sending a quick text. I’m here. Ready when you are.

  Outside my window, the nonstop traffic pours around the city like a stream around rocks. The pedestrians are already blocking up Broadway, and the sun is making its way up a clear blue sky. I could use a cigarette. My hand goes in my pocket to the plastic pack of gum as a light tap sounds on my door.

  “Hey.” Taron walks in and my brow furrows I don’t like the look on his face.

  “What’s up?”

  “I picked up Marley this morning. He’s settled at his apartment. Sandra’s working on hiring him a private nurse. A temp is with him now.”

  “Good work.”

  “Dubai came in overnight. Sandra’s scanning their signed contracts into the system.”

  “More good news.” But his expression is resigned. “Is that it?”

  “No.” He takes a seat across from my desk, and I’m not smiling now. “We need to discuss this. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for months. I talked to Sawyer over the weekend, and I’ve made a decision.”

  “Okay.” I slip a white square of gum in my mouth and sit in my leather chair, crossing an ankle over my knee. “Shoot.”

  “Raquel is doing very well.” He slides his palms down the front of his jeans, and I notice how casually he’s dressed—jeans and a dark, V-neck tee. “I’m glad she’s fit in so quickly here. When I saw the email she sent to Remi, and their response… I feel confident passing the reins to her.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He lifts his head, green eyes meeting mine. “I’m out. This is my notice. I’m moving to Louisiana, back to the farm with Sawyer. I talked to him over the weekend, and—”

  I’m on my feet. “You’re not going anywhere. I don’t accept your notice.”

  “It’s done, Patton. I can’t work here anymore. Not physically… not even mentally. I’ve got to get out of this place before I… I don’t know. Before I turn into Marley.”

  “You’d never turn into him. You don’t have the personality… or the scars.”

  He pushes to standing as well, meeting me eye to eye. “What do you know about my scars?”

  Snatching a piece of paper out of my desk, I dispose of the fucking gum. Who came up with this concept anyway? Chewing gum. Such a bovine activity.

  “Is this about your back? We can expense the best physical therapist in the city. Get Sandra on it. Whatever you need.”

  “It’s not about my back.” He walks to the window. “At least, not entirely. My back started the wheels turning, but it’s more than that.”

  “What is it? The girl?”

  His eyes flash at me, but I lower my brow. “You did what you had to do, Taron.”

  “Yeah. Marines killing little kids. What a fucking cliché I am.”

  “That is not what happened.” My voice is sharp. I will not let him rewrite history this way or torture himself for doing his duty. “That young woman would have cut your head off if you hadn’t done what you did. She would’ve killed Marley and possibly wounded Sawyer.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Have you forgotten how we found him? What they did? She was in on it.”

  “Or she was kidnapped just like him. She could’ve been left there, confused and afraid.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.” He picks up the photo of us again, like he always does in my office, as if holding it has the power to send us back in time, to right past wrongs. “What I do know is I need to get away from this place.”

  “From me?”

  “From Marley. I can’t watch him spiraling. I can’t pretend like it doesn’t bother me, like it doesn’t make me want to…” He puts the photo down and goes to the door. “Sawyer needs help. It’s honest, hard work. I’m going to see if I can find peace. I’m sorry, Patton.”

  “Sawyer needs help. You’re leaving me short-handed in the middle of our expansion.”

  “Raquel is more than capable of helping you. Jerry’s in LA… You got this.” He pauses at the door, looking down. “You don’t need me, brother. And I need to go.”

  He’s out the door, and I collapse into my chair. I want Taron to be happy. I don’t want to force him to stay somewhere that makes him miserable. But damn, it feels like a kick in the gut for him to leave.

  23

  Raquel

  “Something happened.” Sandra is in my office, sitting on the corner of my desk and grinning like she had a hidden camera in Pigeon Forge. “Patton looks like he just got back from some kind of spiritual oasis.”

  “As if Patton would go to a spiritual oasis.” The very thought makes me want to laugh.

  “He was smiling.” She leans forward. “Smiling!”

  I dig in the new banker’s box I just inherited from Taron. He stopped in this morning to say it was his last day. I had a small panic attack, but he was strangely calm. He said I did such a great job communicating with Hastings & Key and supporting him last week with Abu Dhabi, he was passing all his files to me. He vaguely mentioned having something else lined up, but he didn’t elaborate. I didn’t feel right pressing for details.

  Long story short, I guess I’m the new Taron in the office.

  The door to Patton’s office opens, and my stomach tightens. My insides buzz in anticipation of seeing him again, but only Taron walks out. My shoulders fall, and I return again to the banker’s box.

  Sandra laughs, looking from me to Taron. “Are you disappointed?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shaking my head, I keep my eyes fixed on my work, even while my cheeks grow hotter.

  A light tap on the door draws my attention. Taron’s there, and I can’t help thinking he’s such a handsome man, I’m sure he’ll land on his feet wherever he goes. “Sorry to interrupt…”

  He steps inside, and I stop what I’m doing. “It’s okay. I was just looking through the new files.”

  “I know it feels like a lot all at once, but it’s really all maintenance. You can call me if you have any questions or if you need a sounding board.” He glances over his shoulder. “I know Patton isn’t always the most approachable.”

  A relieved smile breaks across my face. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” He pats my arm and heads for the door. “Good luck with… your future endeavors.”

  That seems generic enough.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  Sandra hops off the desk and follows him out. “I’ve got those forms you wanted…”

  They’re gone, and I sink into my chair, my head spinning. I can’t imagine Patton is happy about Taron leaving, especially with Marley in such a fragile state. Still, Dubai is onboard. We’re in a really great position for me to figure out my place here.

  Sandra has been on me like white on rice trying to figure out if Patton and I are more than just colleagues. I cannot let her find out I slept with him… repeatedly—especially not now that I’ve been promoted to Number 2. If that’s what I am.

  I’m about to get back to work when my phone buzzes. “Rocky, I need to see you in my office.”

  My stomach jumps. Patton sounds pissed, but he called me Rocky… that has to be a good sign, right? Picking up my phone, I walk down the short hall to his closed door, ignoring Sandra along the way.

  Knocking softly, I open the door and step inside, closing it behind me. Patton’s in his chair with his back turned, looking out the window.

  He doesn’t move, so I clear my throat, speaking quietly. “You wanted to see me?”

  I hear him exhale, and he puts his foot on the floor, turning to face me. His eyes are on the papers on his desk, and I notice something new.

  “You’re chewing gum?” Disbelief is in my tone.

  For someone who despises all black, I can’t imagine chewing gum is acceptable behavior.

  Dark eyes cut up to me, and he is not smiling. “It’s nicotine gum.”

  I hold my expression steady even though my insides are doing a little happy dance. “Is it helping?”

  “Not really.” He holds out a cream card with black calligraphy engraved on it.

  I take it, quickly scanning the words of the invitation. “What’s this?”

  “Big investor’s gala. They have it every year in New York. This year it’s in LA. I want you to go with me.”

  Now my insides are really jumping. “But… Isn’t Jerry in LA?”

  “Jerry can attend, but he’s not representing me. This is a very big event.”

  “Okay.” I nod, studying the date… this Thursday. “Won’t the office be short-staffed if I go with you?”

  “You’ll only be out two days. Anyway, I need you in case I need a translator.”

  “If it’s a gala in LA, I’m sure everyone will speak English.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want to go?”

  Am I? I think about this a moment. I think about Sandra’s obsession with finding out what we’re doing. I think about our weekend in Pigeon Forge, and my toes curl. We came so far. We shared so much.

  The answer is really easy. “I’d love to go. I just wanted to be sure—”

  “We’ll leave Wednesday afternoon.” He lifts the cover of his laptop and starts to type. “I’ll RSVP for both of us.”

  The muscle in his jaw moves as he types, and I hesitate before speaking. “I’m sorry.” Confused eyes look up at me. “About Taron. I know you must be unhappy he’s leaving, and I just… I’m sorry.”

  He blinks back to his computer screen. “Taron is free to do what he wants.”

  I’m sure he’s more upset than he’s showing, but I have to let him come to me in his own time.

  With a nod, I start for the door when he stops me. “Are you staying at my place tonight?”

  “No.” I look at him confused, my voice lowered to a whisper. “Patton, we can’t—”

  “Wednesday, then.” He continues typing. “It’s formal. We’ll find you something to wear once we’re out there.”

  My brow lowers, and his dark eyes cut up to me. A hint of a grin curls his lips. “Don’t fight me on this one.”

  “Patton, I really don’t think it’s appropriate for you to buy my clothes.”

  “Can you afford the type of dress you’ll need for this event?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not even sure what type of event it is.”

  “Exactly. I’m not buying your clothes. It’s a business expense. You’re working.”

  “Working.” My voice is pure skepticism.

  “Of course. If I wanted to take you to LA for sex, I’d take you to LA for sex. The investor’s gala is work.”

  Such a typical Patton response. I want to point out this is not what I consider sorting out our relationship. It feels like muddying the waters even more, but he picks up his phone. “I’ll see if Jerry can set up a few meetings with our west coast brokers. Maybe we can see a few properties on Thursday.”

  When he puts it that way, it does sound like a business-only trip. Still, I know it’s going to be more than that.

  “Jerry? Rock… ah, Raquel and I are coming out for the gala.” I pause at the door, glancing back as he speaks. He puts his hand over the receiver. “Read up on our LA clients over the next few days. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  He returns to the phone, and I step out into the hall. Looks like I’m going to LA for a gala. I need to call Renée. Only I’m a little scared of what she’s going to say. I left her advice so far behind, I can’t even see it anymore.

  Just before I close the door, I glance back at his square jaw, his dark eyes focused on the computer screen, his hands quickly typing… I’ve fallen for the devil, and there’s no turning back now.

  I’ve always heard Los Angeles is a big smoggy mess of traffic and fake people, but when we touch down at LAX on Wednesday evening, I couldn’t be more excited. The sun is shining and the sky is clear and blue. We left Nashville at the same time as we arrive, which slightly messes with my head when we disembark after a three-hour flight.

  “Time zones…” I muse, but I don’t feel tired at all.

  “I’ll see if our car is here.” Patton takes my hand, lacing our fingers.

  The minute we stepped on the plane, his demeanor changed. All week, he’s been very professional in the office. Almost too professional considering how close we got in the mountains. Still, I’ve been sleeping at my place and reporting for work like we’re strictly coworkers. He’s been following suit.

  Now it’s like we’re on another mini escape—even if he’s calling it business. It’s my first time in the city, and I can’t wait to walk around downtown and hopefully see some of the famous Los Angeles landmarks. Leaning into the window of our black Lincoln towncar, I look up at the skinny palm trees clustered in the breaks on the Interstate.

  “We’re on our own for dinner tonight.” Patton is checking emails on his phone with one hand, my hand still clutched in his other. “Tomorrow we can head down to Rodeo to find you a dress.”

  “Rodeo Drive?” I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman… without the whole prostitute thing, of course.

  “Jerry will meet us at the gala. He’s bringing a plus one.” His voice goes down, and I think the same thing. Great. “It’s being held at the Griffith Observatory.”

  “Oh, yay!” I jump around in my seat. “That’s in La La Land and Rebel Without a Cause…”

  “Didn’t you read the invitation?” He chuckles at my enthusiasm. “I showed it to you.”

  “I guess not.” I wasn’t able to focus on anything Monday. My head was still spinning from our weekend. Kind of like it is right now.

  “We’re staying downtown.” His face turns thoughtful. “It didn’t occur to me you might want to sightsee.”

  “I didn’t know if we’d have time.”

  “What do you want to see?”

  “I’m not really sure. The only things I know about LA are what I’ve seen in movies. But I don’t know where these things are or how long it takes to get there.”

  “Like what?” We’re weaving through traffic, winding through the downtown area past tall skyscrapers mixed with tall, skinny palm trees.

  “The Hollywood sign?”

  “You’ll be able to see that from the Griffith Observatory.”

  “And the stars on the sidewalk—”

  “The Walk of Fame. Not too far from Rodeo.” He’s still holding my hand, and I’m starting to get excited.

  “Venice Beach, Santa Monica, Mullholland Drive… I guess we don’t have time to tour any celebrity homes…”

  “The Hollywood sights are pretty close together. We’ll be right in the middle of it tomorrow. The beaches are probably too far for this trip.”

  I make a sad face, and he lifts our clasped hands, kissing the back of mine. “We’ll have to come back.”

  My breath catches at his words. Have we reached the point of making future plans?

  “Okay.” The word comes out on a breath.

  “We have offices out here now. We’re going to have to make an effort to be on the west coast more often.”

  Oh, right. Duh, Rocky. Cool your over-active imagination.

  He looks out the window, and I feel like a naive little girl. This actually is a business trip. We have clients here we need to meet with and solidify our relationships. This isn’t a sex trip to LA as he so delicately put it back at the office.

  The car pulls up in front of the Ritz Carlton, passing the Grammy Museum and the Staples Center on the way, which I excitedly point out. I step out, looking all the way up to the sky before Patton drags me through the doors into an expansive, beige-stone lobby.

  It’s bright and open, and elegantly dressed couples mix with couples wearing long shorts and too-tight tees with flip flops walking from the bar to the elevators. I wait by the complimentary cucumber water while Patton checks us in.

  “They’re sending up our luggage.” He takes my hand and leads me to the gleaming elevators. I’m still looking all around like I’ve never been in a nice hotel before. Actually, I’m hoping to have a celebrity sighting.

  Patton leans toward my ear as if reading my mind. “The stars stay up in Brentwood.”

  “How far away is that?”

  “Far enough.”

  The elevator dings and we step inside with a few other couples. They’re not celebrities, and I feel Patton’s eyes on me. Glancing to the side, he’s got a mischievous grin on his face. It makes my stomach feel tight. I’m instantly thinking about our moment in an elevator not too long ago and wishing we were alone. That man has the most talented tongue…

  Eventually, it’s just the two of us going higher, and I study the panel. “What floor are we on?”

  “The penthouse suites are on the fifty-first floor. Here.” He hands me a plastic card. “You need it to take the elevator to the top.”

  My chest squeezes. “Sandra put us in a penthouse suite… together?”

  “She booked you a regular king room, but you’re staying with me.”

  A soft tone sounds, and the elevator stops, opening to a small foyer area with four large, brown doors spaced out and leading to individual suites.

  Patton exits the elevator, and I follow him slowly, trying to decide how I feel about this. “I don’t get a say in where I stay?”

  He swipes the door open, and holds it, looking back with that same grin. “Come inside and tell me what you think.”

  Marching across the short space, I’m planning out my comeback when my breath is stolen by two walls of windows with a view of the whole city and the San Gabriel Mountains hazy in the distance.

  “Oh…” It’s a breathless sigh as I walk across the dark wood floors covered in beige carpets to kneel on the sofa in front of the window. “Look at it.”

  The door closes, and I hear Patton chuckle as he goes to the kitchen and takes two bottles of San Pellegrino from the fridge.

  “I remember the first time I saw that view.” Cracking one open, he hands it to me. “I thought you might prefer it here to a smaller room farther down.”

  “You’re right.” I cut my eyes at him, unable to hide my smile. “It’s incredible. So much bigger than I realized.”