“Yes, sir.”

  As if he can sense that I’m still lost in thought, Ryder guides me up the brightly lit steps.

  Inside, six plush leather chairs guard the windows; the letter “R” is engraved on every headrest. A frosted glass door stands near the back, flanked by a wraparound sofa and a liquor bar.

  “Give me one second, please.” Ryder disappears into a side room while the flight attendant steps in front of me.

  “I’m Anna,” she says, shaking my hand. “I’m honored to be at your beck and call with whatever you need. Would you like something to drink before takeoff?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  She nods and picks up a blanket, draping it around my shoulders. Then, as if she doesn’t believe the words I’ve said, she hands me a steaming cup of tea.

  “This way.” Ryder returns, slipping his arm around my waist. He walks me to the back and pushes the frosted glass door open.

  “It’s a seven-and-a-half-hour flight to Miami, and then two and a half from there to New York.” He hits the lights, revealing a beautiful grey bedroom. “After that, you’ll return home to me. I’ll call you with further instructions at each landing.”

  “Wait… You’re not coming with me?”

  “No.” His voice is deadpan. “I can’t.”

  “Are you banned from those cities?”

  “Feels that way at times.” There’s a hint of pain in his irises. “It’s a long story.”

  Not pushing it, I nod and walk over to the bed.

  “When are you planning to give me an official employment contract?” I ask.

  “Never,” he says. “Do I seem like the type of man who believes in paper trails?”

  “You could make me an exception.”

  He smiles and sets my duffle bag on the dresser. “There’s a shower to your left, and a private sofa and bookshelf behind the door on your right.”

  “Noted. Thank you.”

  “Have a safe flight.” He turns around to leave, but then he looks over his shoulder. “Oh, and Autumn?”

  “Yes?”

  “About not seeing ‘anything’ when you opened my briefcase without permission…”

  “What?” My cheeks flush red. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “That’s quite unfortunate,” he says. “It’s your signing bonus…”

  End of Episode 20

  Episode 21

  Autumn

  “We’ve now arrived at our destination,” Ryder’s pilot announces over the speakers as we land in a pitch-black Miami.

  The flashing lights from a distant cell tower are the only sign of life outside the window.

  As he steers the plane down the tarmac, I press pause on the seventh episode of the ‘Stories with the Mob’ podcast and slip into the bathroom.

  What the hell are you doing? I question my reflection.

  It’s obvious that the ‘Autumn’ in the mirror is utterly different from the woman I was a few weeks ago.

  Hell, even days ago.

  That woman had never experienced an earth-shattering orgasm with nothing more than a man’s mouth between her thighs, never felt a pleasure so raw and primal that she was forced to drop all her inhibitions.

  Then again, that Autumn was still married to an asshole.

  Splashing my face with water, I attempt to shake away the two words from Ryder that have run on a loop in my brain since he left.

  “The latter…”

  According to every podcast episode and article that I’ve devoured during this flight, they all say the same thing about dating a man like him.

  “Domineering.” “Incapable of love.” “Not worth the inevitable heartache.” “Get out while you can…”

  Stop thinking about it, Autumn. Not now.

  As I’m pressing a towel against my cheeks, my phone buzzes against the sink.

  Unknown number.

  I hit ignore, but it vibrates again.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “I’m sorry to call you at this hour, Autumn.” It’s a female with a high-pitched voice. “Please don’t hang up on me. Please.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s me,” she says as if we’re long-lost friends. “Heidi.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  “I’m Nate’s girlfriend. We met briefly at Resno’s a little while ago, remember?”

  Right. I roll my eyes. “What do you want, Heidi?”

  “I’m at the hospital with him.” She sniffles. “Some thug attacked him when he got home. He’ll have to breathe through tubes for weeks.”

  What?

  “I hate to ask you this…” she says, still sniffling. “Do you know anyone who may be angry enough to do something like this to him? Besides you, of course.”

  “No,” I say. “No, I don’t.”

  “Okay, well…” She lets out a breath. “The doctors say he should heal fine with time, but they’re asking me medical questions that I don’t have answers to. Can you help me?”

  I say nothing.

  I’m resisting the urge to hang up in her face.

  I don’t owe Nate anything.

  “Autumn?” She clears her throat. “Do you know his blood type?”

  “B-positive.”

  “Is he on any current medications?”

  “Sectral for his blood pressure, and Topiramate for his migraines.”

  “Thank you. Has he ever had any serious health issues?”

  “Just a subpar cock that he couldn’t keep to himself.” I shrug. “Oh, and Compulsive Liar Syndrome.”

  “Ugh, look.” She groans. “I’m trying to be cordial here. I love him to pieces, so there’s no need to toss jealous insults my way.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I know you’re jealous of me,” she says. “I’d feel the same if I were in your shoes, losing the man who gave me everything.”

  I blink a few times, certain that I’m imagining this entire conversation.

  “You could at least play nice since he’s in such a fragile state.” She’s still talking. “You have yet to ask me what type of pain he’s in or anything about his injuries.”

  “Because I honestly don’t care.”

  “Exactly,” she says. “You’re beyond selfish, just like he said. No wonder he left you.”

  “He was fucking us both at the same time,” I say, unable to ‘play nice’ anymore. “He mentioned wanting a baby the night before he was with you at Odette’s. Literally, the night before.”

  She sucks in a breath.

  “Did he ever tell you that?” I ask. “Or, how about how he fought like hell to prevent the divorce?”

  “You’re—” She pauses. “You’re just saying crazy things.”

  “I have no reason to be jealous of you, Heidi. As a matter of fact, I feel quite sorry for you, because you actually believe he loves you back.”

  “He does love me…” Her voice is a whisper.

  “He only wants you because you’re naïve and young.” I recite a strand of my mother’s old words verbatim. “If you want to save yourself years of wasted time, leave him while you can.”

  I end the call before she can respond, and then I block her number.

  That part of my life is over now.

  “Miss Jane?” The flight attendant suddenly knocks on the door. “Miss Jane, it’s time to deplane.”

  “I’ll be out in a second.” I look myself over and adjust my necklace one last time before twisting the knob.

  “Is there any way I could get a bottle of—” My sentence stalls on my lips when I see Ryder.

  What the…

  “Did you enjoy the flight?” he asks, looking me up and down.

  “I thought you weren’t coming.”

  “Change of plans,” he says, stepping closer. “I stayed onboard after takeoff. I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t come out to see me once.”

  “You could’ve knocked on the door.”

  “It took a high level of restraint not to.” A smile tugs at his lips, but he doesn’t let it stay. “Anyway, I need you to carefully listen to my instructions.”

  “Nate is in the hospital,” I interrupt him. “Someone beat him up so badly that he’ll be in recovery for quite some time.”

  “What a shame,” he says. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Are you really?”

  “No.”

  “Were you involved?” I ask.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Autumn.”

  “I think you do.”

  “Then I’m afraid you’re making an assumption.” The look in his eyes makes it all too clear that he’s well aware of what happened.

  Staring at me, he tucks a few strands of hair behind my ear. Then he trails his thumb against my cheek.

  “You can’t be two places at once, so I’ve decided to handle the second job that’s just come up.” He changes the subject. “The first one is far more important anyway.”

  “I don’t want to ask you about Nate again, Ryder.”

  “I don’t want you to either.” A smile returns to his lips. “It would actually make my day if you didn’t.”

  Silence.

  “The steps are ready now, sir.” The pilot clears his throat from behind us. “Ground transportation has arrived, as well.”

  “Let’s discuss things outside.” Ryder motions for me to move in front of him.

  “I’ll be right back,” he says to the pilot. “Tell Anna she can change the cabin for my return trip.”

  The pilot shoots me a wary glance before following the order.

  Ryder presses his hand against the small of my back as I make my way down, and then he leads me to a Tesla with tinted windows.

  “You have until daybreak to drive to the Fort Lauderdale airport.” He opens the driver’s side door. “There’s a first-class ticket to New York’s LaGuardia in the glove box and your duffle bag is already in the trunk.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Tell me which part I need to repeat.”

  I look around and realize that we aren’t near a private hangar or an airport.

  We’re in a deserted field and there are no other buildings around us. No other people either.

  There’s nothing.

  And suddenly, this sudden jaunt to nowhere, all to fly somewhere else, is making me question everything again.

  Why couldn’t I fly directly from Seattle to New York?

  “Because that’s not how this job works,” Ryder says, reading my mind. “Anyway, when you do get there, my most important asset will be delivered to you.”

  “Can you give me a description?”

  “You’ll know it when you see it,” he says. “A private jet will bring you back to me.”

  “Can you tell me how to find your jet, then?”

  “You’ll find it easily,” he says.

  I blink, more confused than ever.

  “Don’t talk to anyone, and call me if something goes wrong.” He looks into my eyes. “Are there any other questions about what I’m telling you to do?”

  “I want to hear what the second job is,” I say. “I think I need to trade.”

  “That’s not an option.” He looks amused. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah.” I take a step back. “Tell me what I’m really doing for you and don’t hide it behind one of your metaphors.”

  “Okay.” He brushes a few hair strands from my forehead. “You’re helping me with something crucial, and the only person hiding things is you.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I think that’s part of the reason why I’m so intrigued by you.” He slips a hand around my waist. “You’ve spent so much time trying to convince me that you’re out of your depth, but I don’t think you are… I think you’re a lot more cunning and complicated than you’re letting on.”

  “Thank you for blatantly ignoring my request about metaphors.”

  “Tell me that I’m wrong then,” he says, bringing his mouth closer to mine, whispering against my lips.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Say that you’re just a divorcee who married the wrong guy and wants to start life over on her own terms. Tell me that’s all there is to you and you’re not hiding a single goddamn thing from me.”

  Silence.

  “I thought so,” he says. “You have as many layers as I do, Autumn. You just hide them differently.”

  Refusing to respond to that, I move past him and settle into the front seat.

  Ryder shuts the door, and I sync my phone to the car’s system.

  Gently tapping on the window, he motions for me to roll it down.

  I oblige, and his eyes meet mine. “Yes?”

  “Welcome to the Former Mob Girlfriends podcast, the place where we share stories of what it’s like to date a man in the mob.” A loud voice blares through the speakers. “All true and verified.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit!

  Ryder tilts his head to the side and my cheeks flush red.

  “Today we’re sitting down with a woman who can tell you the first-hand struggles…”

  I lean forward and violently tap the center screen, trying to change it.

  “Men like this will never love you, will never give it up for you, and—”

  I cut it off before the host utters another word.

  “Interesting choice of audio,” Ryder says, looking amused. “Sounds like exaggerated fiction, though. Let me know if I should add it to my subscription list.”

  “Probably not…”

  “Noted.” He looks at his watch. “You should leave now. You can’t afford to be late again.”

  Without saying another word, I put the car in gear and drive forward, following the directions onscreen.

  I watch Ryder in the rearview mirror, watching him stare at me until I turn onto the main road.

  Not bothering to return to the podcast, I turn on an old playlist.

  Halfway through the third track, Kylie’s name crosses my screen via phone call.

  “Hello?” I answer. “Kylie?”

  “Oh good, you’re still alive!” She sounds out of breath. “Where the hell are you right now?”

  “Miami,” I say. “What’s going on?”

  “A lot. A whole fucking lot.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears. “How long are you planning to be there?”

  “Not too much longer.” I pull into the emergency lane. “I’m catching a flight to New York.”

  “Are you flying into JFK or LaGuardia?”

  “LaGuardia… Why?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “We’re talking at this moment, are we not? And you’re starting to scare me…”

  “I’m currently boarding a plane in LAX. I’ll meet you at LaGuardia.”

  “Kylie, that’s insane. Just tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “It’s about that guy you asked me to look up,” she says. “I’m too fucking scared to talk on the phone about it, okay?”

  “Kylie…”

  “It’s a direct flight. No stops,” she says. “Will you still be in New York five hours from now?”

  “Probably.”

  “Okay, great.”

  “Can you at least give me a hint about what you found, Kylie?” I return to the highway, assuming that “the latter” confession by Ryder is what she means. “I can probably guess.”

  “No.” Her voice is a whisper. “You won’t guess this at all. Meet me at Whimstery in Terminal E, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And after today, you need to swear to me, on your life, that you will never, ever talk to this man again.”

  “Kylie—”

  “I gotta go,” she cuts me off. “See you in New York, and watch your fucking back.”

  She immediately ends the call, and I shake my head.

  I try to focus on the playlist again, but it’s no use. All I can do is wonder what the hell would make her jump out of bed and onto a plane.

  By the time I’ve run through every single scenario my mind can conjure, I’m still an hour away from the airport.

  As I’m crossing a bridge, a black Toyota pulls right next to me.

  It drives at my side for the next mile, matching my exact speed.

  Confused, I slow down.

  It doesn’t join me for that part of the game. Instead, it speeds along, and I can’t help but notice that there isn’t a license plate on its rear bumper.

  There’s only a blank white card.

  Something isn’t right…

  “Please drive the speed limit,” the GPS warns. “You will not reach your destination in time at this rate.”

  I follow that command, but the Toyota is at my side again ten minutes later.

  Looking over, I notice that the tinted windows are far darker than mine, and I’m hoping that this is nothing more than a coincidence.

  Maybe I’m just imagining this.

  I switch to the far right lane, leaving the middle lane between us, and within seconds the Toyota does the same.

  Moving directly behind me, it’s now close enough to touch.

  I purposely make a wrong left turn, then another, sending the GPS into a frenzy, and the black Toyota remains in direct shot of my rearview mirror.

  It never leaves…

  End of Episode 21

  Episode 22

  Ryder

  Final Reminder:

  Dear Mr. Edward Rochester,

  On behalf of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives, we request an urgent meeting with you (or a proxy) at the date and Florida address listed below.

  As mentioned last month, there are some essential things we need to discuss, and an in-person meeting is non-negotiable.

  Thank you.

  I stare at the letter FedEx delivered to my estate hours ago, making a mental note to install another gate on my property.

  Things like this aren’t welcome anywhere near me, no matter how “urgent” they claim to be.

  And the only reason I’m giving it any of my time today is because Autumn was Miami-bound.

  Or so I’m trying to convince myself.

  Folding the notice, I double-check that everything on the plane is exactly how I want it to be for my return trip.