Once the boarding pass prints, I head toward security and brace myself for the worst.

  Please let this work. Please let this work…

  “Stone pickup, huh?” the woman in front of me asks.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “It has to be emeralds or rubies with that type of lock.” She points to the briefcase. “I bet that’s what this guy is having you pick up for his gambling. I’m just dropping off some gold bars. What an easy job, right?”

  “Right…” I nod, watching as the security guards barely check the women in front of us.

  They wave me through within seconds, bypassing any mention of a metal detector.

  Without second-guessing, I rush toward my gate as fast as I can.

  When I arrive, only a few people are waiting, and the screen reads, “Boarding in fifteen minutes.”

  Unable to sit, I walk to a coffee bar and order a latte.

  Mid-sip, my phone buzzes with a new call.

  Ryder.

  I hit ignore and send him a final text.

  Me: I’ve decided to go with another employer… and another life for now.

  Thanks for all your help with things.

  Hopefully we can catch up someday over coffee.

  He doesn’t respond to that.

  He calls again.

  Refusing to say anything more, I silence the ringer and pull out my burner phone.

  A part of me longs to call my mother, but we need far more than a few minutes to speak. Far more than the time between boarding and takeoff.

  There’s another rift—a smaller one—that I need to patch first. And I need her a little more at this moment.

  My former best friend, Kylie.

  I type her number by heart, hoping she hasn’t changed it.

  It rings once.

  It rings twice.

  “Hello?” Her Italian accent drips over the line before the third ring. “Hey, is anybody there?”

  “It’s me, Kylie. Autumn.”

  Silence.

  “Um…” I say. “I know it’s been a while.”

  “Two and a half years is a bit more than ‘a while,’ Autumn,” she hisses. “You have quite a bit of nerve to call me out of the goddamn blue.”

  “Kylie, I’m—”

  “I helped you move up there, came to visit when all of those snotty housewives ignored you, and I always took your side when it came to marrying Nate.”

  “I know that.” An ache assaults my chest, and I struggle to find the right words to say.

  “I was never his biggest fan, but I never hated him or treated you like the rest of your family did.” Her voice cracks. “All I did was say that he was an asshole for forgetting your birthday that year, and you… You just stopped talking to me. You lumped me in with everyone else.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, years past-due. “I’m so fucking sorry, Kylie.”

  She doesn’t respond.

  “I was in deep denial about who he really was. I should’ve called you long before now.”

  “Yeah, you should’ve.” Her voice cracks again, and my heart does the same.

  We hold the line in silence, and for a moment, I wish that I could rewind time to my senior year of high school. That instead of dropping my symphony dreams for a life with Nate, that I’d played alongside Kylie and found a different ending.

  Then again, no matter how hard I try to picture that, the frame never appears quite clear enough.

  “What did Nate get you for your birthday this year?” Kylie asks, bringing me back to reality.

  “An affair with a nineteen-year-old, a contentious divorce, and tons of wasted love.”

  “Well, damn,” she says. “Now I kind of wish he’d just forgotten about it again.”

  “He did, actually.”

  Silence.

  “I guess my asshole radar is undefeated after all.” Her infectious laughter comes over the line. “No offense.”

  “None taken.” I smile.

  “Okay, no more emotions.” She clears her throat. “You can make up the past two and a half years to me with a weekend sleepover at my brand-new place in Santa Barbara, and I’ll supply you with all the Pralines ’N Cream that your heart desires while you give me every detail.”

  “You don’t live in Buffalo anymore?”

  “No, I moved a few months after we last spoke. Decided I wanted a change, something warmer.”

  Before I get the chance to ask her if any of our mutual friends remain—or if there will be a couch available when I land—she clears her throat.

  “Are you dating anyone new yet?”

  “I don’t know anymore,” I say, feeling my other phone vibrate with another call from Ryder. “That’s part of why I’m calling you, actually.”

  I look over at the boarding timer.

  Four minutes…

  “I knew your love was conditional,” she jokes. “Is this new guy cute?”

  “He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”

  “Really? What about on a scale of one to ten?”

  “He’s a thousand,” I say. “But—”

  “Small penis, huh?”

  “No.” My cheeks heat at the memory of seeing it stiffen in his pants the night he watched me on the sofa. “That’s definitely not the problem. I can’t find anything on him or his background, and before I talk to him again, I need your help with something.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Do you still use your dad’s credentials to look up guys you date?”

  “Of course not,” she says. “Using the FBI database without permission is a federal crime.” She coughs, then lowers her voice. “Text me the guy’s name and address and I’ll look it up this weekend.”

  “Thank you, Kylie.”

  “You’re welcome. Oh, and—shit. I gotta go. Do you think you can make it out to Cali in a few weeks for us to catch up?”

  I hesitate to commit, unsure of my next move. “I’ll have to make sure I’m clear from work and let you know.”

  “If not, I’ll come to you.”

  “Sounds great… I’ve missed you, Kylie.”

  “I’ve missed you more, Autumn. Always.” She ends the call, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the boarding process for Flight 783 with service to Buffalo is about to begin,” the gate agent calls over the speaker. “We would now like to welcome all first-class passengers and diamond loyalty members aboard.”

  I head toward her with my boarding pass.

  The moment she scans it, I rush down the jet bridge, stopping in front of seat 1A.

  I stuff my duffle bag into the overhead compartment and buckle my seatbelt.

  “You can’t hold that briefcase in your lap, Miss.” The flight attendant quickly steps in front of me. “You’ll need to place it above the seat until we’re in the air.”

  I hold up my wrist, showing off the metal bracelet. “It’s chained.”

  “Well, try to make it unchained.” She smiles, and I give her a blank stare. “It was a joke, Miss. Would you like a drink?”

  “A vodka,” I say, catching sight of a misaligned gap between two links. “And a butter knife, please.”

  “Be back in a few.”

  Awaiting her return, I stand to my feet and place the briefcase at the back of the overhead bin, stretching the chain as far as it can go.

  As I’m positioning where the tip of the butter knife will be wedged, someone clears a throat from behind.

  “Good evening, Autumn.” Ryder’s deep voice forces my world to come to a complete stop. “Is this how you’re really saying goodbye?”

  “Yes.” I don’t turn around. “Goodbye.”

  “Hmmm.” His fingers trail the back of my neck, setting my nerves on fire, disarming me with ease. “I thought we were better than this.”

  “We’re not.” I bite my bottom lip as he blows a soft kiss against my skin. “I barely know you at all… And vice versa.”

  “I’m sure you’ve done quite a bit of research. Have you not?”

  I don’t say a word, and he doesn’t press the subject.

  “I like the way this dress looks on you.” He runs his hands against my sides. “It probably looks a lot better off of you, though…”

  My cheeks flush red, but I keep my gaze forward. “I said this is ‘Goodbye.’ You can leave now.”

  “I’d rather stay.” He grips my waist and turns me around to face him.

  As I turn, the briefcase falls from the bin toward the floor, and he catches the chain before it can tug on my wrist.

  Picture perfect as always, his white button-down shirt is pushed up to his elbows and his blue eyes are locked on mine.

  He looks half-livid, half-amused, and suddenly this plane feels far too small for him. For us.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had to reschedule a job, Autumn,” he says, his voice low. “And I’ve never been late before.”

  “There’s a first time for everything in this life,” I manage. “But I guess you won’t have that problem anymore.”

  “I definitely won’t,” he says, closing what’s left of the gap between us. “I guarantee that this is the last time it’ll ever happen.”

  “Sounds like you’ve found my replacement.”

  “I’m setting some ground rules.”

  I try to look away from him but it’s no use. “I meant what I said about getting coffee together someday. Someday far in the future.”

  “Oh?” He trails a finger against my lips. “That’s all you want with me?”

  No… “Yes.”

  “It’s just a briefcase,” he whispers. “Is that what’s scaring you, or did you try to see what was inside?”

  “I didn’t see anything,” I lie. “And I’m not ‘scared’ of you in the slightest, Ryder.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I’m simply wary of being drawn to a man who thrives off being an enigma and is now treating me like his employee.”

  “You are my employee.” He presses his forehead against mine. “It’s only temporary, though. Once you have the money from your settlement and can take care of yourself, you’re more than welcome to leave.”

  “Because my well-being actually matters to you?”

  “If only you knew how much.”

  Silence.

  I look to my left—where the flight attendant should be making my vodka—and notice she’s not there.

  The cockpit is empty, too.

  “I’ll think about things in the air,” I say, my voice soft. “I think we should move before the other passengers come aboard.”

  “They’ve all elected to take a later flight,” he says. “Someone offered to pay them triple for their tickets. He offered to pay for yours, as well.”

  “Did you pay off the pilot and flight attendant, too?”

  “I suggested that they take a long bathroom break.”

  “I didn’t get that memo.”

  “I’m giving it to you now.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “You have a job to finish for me, and we can’t continue to work together if you insist on being this defiant.”

  “Then maybe we shouldn’t work together at all,” I say, trying to control the conversation. “I’ve heard that you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure anyway.”

  “I haven’t fucked you yet,” he says. “And the only people who believe that lie are incapable of multi-tasking.”

  “At least they know something about each other that makes the risk worth it…”

  His lips curve into a smile. “I mastered the violin at age fourteen, the bass at sixteen, and the cello at eighteen,” he says. “I composed various pieces under a ‘Ry Thales’ pen name, and I was invited to play at Carnegie Hall several times. Is that ‘something’ enough?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of whether you’re a part of the mafia or the mob.” My words hang in the air for several seconds. “Which one is it?”

  “My parents couldn’t afford to send me to Manhattan, so I never had the chance to play in front of that particular crowd.”

  “Mafia or the mob, Ryder…”

  “It’s one of my only regrets in life,” he says. “I really wanted to play on that stage.”

  I glare at him. “I wasn’t born yesterday, and I don’t care how you feel about questions anymore, because I refuse to keep running around in circles and playing your mind games, so if you won’t—”

  “It’s the latter.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” he says. “The latter.”

  I stare at him, stunned that he’s given me an answer. That the past few weeks—the Uber drivers, the warnings, the bloodstains—all make perfect sense with his admission.

  “Between you and me, the people in this city seem to think it’s the former.” He pauses. “They also seem to think both things are the same. They’re not.”

  “The latter is far worse than the former.”

  “Exactly.” He tilts my chin up with his fingertips. “Is that a problem for you?”

  “It should be.”

  “But is it?”

  I can’t get the word “No” to fall from my lips. All I can do is shake my head.

  “Good.” He brushes his thumb against my cheek. “We’ll resume this conversation—and your job—after I punish you.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not fair to anyone else on my staff if I let you get away with this evening’s blatant disrespect of my time. Don’t you agree?”

  “No.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Not at all.”

  “If you were in my position, I think you’d feel the same,” he says, sliding a hand down to my neck. “After all, as of now, you’ve cost me two hours, and I have to make sure you know better than to ever do this again.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Rather, I need to do something, so you’ll never second guess me on another job or worry about the things I ask you to carry.”

  Before I can process what the hell he’s talking about, he presses his lips against mine.

  His kiss instantly obliterates every thought, every worry, and I lose all my senses under his control.

  As I shut my eyes, he grabs my right hand and lifts it up, placing it on the edge of the overhead bin.

  “Don’t let go of this,” he whispers against my mouth. “Do you understand me?”

  I don’t answer. I’m too overwhelmed by the feel of his tongue taming mine, too turned on by the hand he’s sliding under my dress.

  “Ahhh…” I suck in a breath as his cock hardens against my thigh.

  Pushing my soaking wet panties to the side, he whispers his command again, “Do I need to repeat myself, Autumn?”

  “No…” I flex my wrist to confirm I understand, and he kisses me even harder.

  His mouth dominates mine for what feels like forever, making me want to remain here in this moment for life, but then he abruptly tears away from me.

  Without explanation, he moves his kisses to my neck. Then across my collarbone.

  Slowly unzipping the front of my dress, he trails his mouth between my breasts.

  My toes curl as he flicks his tongue against my nipples, as he leaves them hard and bereft.

  “You’re lucky I don’t own this goddamn plane…” he whispers, moving past my stomach, getting down on his knees.

  Pressing his thumb against my clit, he slides two fingers deep inside me, forcing me to moan even louder.

  “My apologies for not kissing you here first, like I promised,” he says.

  What?

  He doesn’t pause to elaborate. He buries his head against my pussy, rendering me absolutely useless with every flick of his tongue, with every alternating push and pull of his skilled fingers.

  His rhythm is all-consuming, overpowering, and so fucking fast that I can’t hold on for much longer.

  “Ahhh, Ryder…” I say his name as he continues to devour me, as he grips my legs tighter and holds me still.

  “Can you…” I can barely speak between moans. “Can you… slow down?”

  He responds by keeping his intense tempo the same, torturing me with a pleasure I’ve never known and pushing me closer to ecstasy with every perfectly timed kiss.

  My pussy is throbbing against his tongue, and I can feel my knees weakening, but he doesn’t stop. He pushes me far over the edge, driving me toward the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life.

  “Ryder, I’m about to…” My sentence ends the moment he sucks my clit between his lips again, the moment the tips of his fingers hit my most wanted spot at the exact same time.

  I scream his name as I’m forced to let go of the ledge and break the only rule he’s set.

  Holding me steady, he continues kissing me, keeping me taut until I stop shaking.

  “Do I need to worry about you being late or quitting on me again?” he whispers against my inner thigh.

  I’m too breathless to answer.

  “Autumn?” He blows against my clit. “Do I?”

  I shake my head, managing a strained, “No…”

  “Good.” He places a few final kisses against my skin and stands to his feet.

  He looks as if he wants to ask me something else, but he holds back, refastening my dress and smoothing my hair instead.

  Pulling a set of keys from his pocket, he unlocks the handcuff from my left wrist. Then he grabs my duffle bag.

  “We need to go now.” He presses his hand against the small of my back and leads me off the plane.

  When we’re halfway down the jet bridge, he pushes on a “Personnel Only” door, revealing a flight of metal steps that lead to the tarmac.

  “Walk slow,” he commands.

  I oblige, and by the time my feet touch the ground, a black town car is pulling in front of us.

  The driver jumps out to open the back door, and I immediately collapse onto the leather.

  Ryder takes a seat on the other side, placing the briefcase between us.

  Still on a high from my orgasm, I stare out the window as we coast past all the commercial airliners.

  What the hell just happened to me…

  Several minutes later, the car parks in front of a massive white jet.

  “Good evening, Miss Jane.” A suit, the same one I saw weeks ago at Crafts & Notes, opens my door.

  “Good evening.”

  “We have fifteen minutes.” Ryder steps beside me, addressing the suit. “Make sure we’re all set.”