“You never will.” I head toward the door. “I’ll send a proxy for this next time.”

  “Wait.” She jumps in front of me before I can push the door open. “Wait.”

  “Yes, Miss Poole?”

  “I don’t want you to take this personally, but I have a compulsive inner drive that lets me get to the bottom of every case—no matter how cold it is—and there’s nothing I love more than beating a man who thinks he’s smarter than me.”

  “Well, I don’t expect us to have any problems,” I say. “I know I’m smarter than you. But if it’s any consolation, I find you entertaining. A waste of my time, of course, but mildly entertaining.”

  She rolls her eyes and tucks a pen into her pocket. “Can we speak off the record for a minute?”

  I glance at the clock that hangs on the far wall.

  Autumn should land in New York soon…

  “You have exactly one minute,” I say, preferring thoughts of Autumn to anything else this woman has to say.

  “I’m sure you get stressed a lot in your line of work, so if you ever get lonely or could use some female companionship…” Her tone is now high-pitched, like a teenager. “I could help you out with that in Seattle. And depending on how good things get, I could also convince my boss to drop all these suspicions.”

  “Are you attempting to hit on me for sex?”

  “Only because we’re off the record.”

  “Then let’s get back on it,” I say. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yeah.” She blushes. “Anything.”

  “Can you get the hell out of my way now?”

  “Welcome back aboard, Mr. Rochester.” The pilot tips his hat at me as I finally return to my plane.

  I walk past him without a word, stopping at the sight of Chester.

  He’s sitting in my favorite window seat, glaring in my direction. Since he’s always had a deep-rooted fear of flying, I blink a few times to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

  “We have a problem,” he says. “Actually, we have two problems.”

  “Is one of them the fact that you’re trespassing in my chair?”

  “Funny.” He crosses his arms, and I take a seat across from him.

  “What’s the easiest one to fix?”

  “The final Canada delivery was short,” he says. “The trucker we vetted months ago stole part of the payment.”

  “I’m assuming that he left a suicide note after doing so.”

  “No, he’s running.” He holds up his hand. “And before you say it, yes, we know where he is already. Everyone is simply waiting for you to make the next move.”

  “What’s the second problem?”

  “You and your dick,” he hisses.

  “I don’t recall ever mentioning any issues with that.” I smile. “Maybe you’re projecting.”

  “Mr. Rochester…”

  “We have a full-time doctor on our staff, Chester. He can prescribe Viagra.”

  “There was never a real ‘job’ here in Miami,” he says, not taking my bait. “And I doubt you flew all the way here to personally blow off those assholes from ATF, so I popped a few anxiety pills to see the reason for myself.”

  “Maybe I just wanted to get away.”

  “Or maybe you’re full of shit.”

  I raise my eyebrow. “What did you just say?”

  “You escorted your brand-new courier on a nonexistent job.”

  “It’s a personal job that ends in New York,” I admit. “It’s also her first day at work.”

  “So?”

  “She needed to be put at ease,” I say. “She thinks I’m a criminal.”

  “Smart girl.” He looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

  “I agree that she’s highly intelligent.” I quickly change the subject. “How much did this trucker steal from me?”

  “Eighty-thousand.”

  “That’s it?”

  “He probably thought the amount wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things,” he says. “Should I tell the guys to fall back?”

  “Yes. I’ll handle this betrayal myself.”

  “Sooner than later, I hope.”

  “Sometime next week.” I wait for the pilot to settle into the cockpit. “Glad we’re on the same page about everything now.”

  “Are we?” He taps his fingers against the armrest, looking more upset by the second. “Riddle me this, Mr. Rochester,” he says. “How do you honestly see this arrangement working long-term with you and Miss Jane?”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to answer that.

  “The moment she finds out that you already knew who she was, when she discovers how you knew her name…” He pauses. “Whenever that darkness comes into the light, I doubt she’ll stick around, so there’s no point in her being anywhere near you now.”

  “She’ll never find out.”

  “Then what happens if she gets close enough to see what keeps you up at night, what weaknesses—”

  “I don’t have any of those,” I interrupt him. “And if you think I didn’t carefully weigh all my options before dealing with her, then you don’t know me at all.”

  Silence.

  “I’m worried.”

  “You shouldn’t be.”

  “Whether or not you want to admit it, she’s already far past the ‘just an employee’ or ‘just someone I like’ lines, and that’s never happened before.” His tone is a lot softer now. “I’ve never seen you look at any woman the way you look at her, and I do know you. I know you better than you know yourself.”

  “Then what’s my next best move?”

  “Let her go before this gets ugly.”

  “My second best move.”

  “There isn’t one.”

  He moves from my chair, taking a different seat, and my phone suddenly sounds with a new call.

  Autumn.

  “I need to take this in my bedroom,” I say. “I’ll come back to finish this conversation.”

  “Don’t bother,” he says. “Just think about the last time you had to rush off and take a call from a courier without me listening.”

  “I can’t think of any.”

  “Exactly.”

  End of Episode 24

  Episode 25

  Autumn

  Hours Later

  Ring, ring, ring…

  Ryder’s line sounds in my ear as I step onto the jet bridge.

  If it weren’t for the fact that I overstuffed my duffle bag, I would be running right now. And I would probably break my personal record while getting away from the man at my side—a Wall Street guy who flirted with me the last hour of the flight.

  Multiple times, I tried to end our pointless conversation with a polite laugh or an “Okay, I need to finish listening to my podcast now,” but he’d interpreted that as some type of challenge.

  Yet, no matter how much he showed off his fancy watch or bragged about the exotic places he’s traveled, all I could think about was the man who’d steered me out of harm’s way earlier. The man who was turning my life upside down with ease.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to exchange numbers?” Wall Street Guy asks, smiling. “You’re beautiful, and I’d love to show you a good time while you’re in town.”

  “I’m sure,” I say. “Sorry.”

  “Well, if that ever changes,” he says, pulling a business card from his pocket, “call me. I’ll drop everything in my life for a woman like you.”

  I take the paper between my fingertips, making a mental note to throw it in the trash the moment he’s out of sight.

  “Nice talking to you and I hope you call,” he says, and I answer my still-ringing phone and rush down the tunnel.

  “Are you going to call him?” Ryder’s deep voice catches me off guard.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I say, stepping into the airport. “I should probably keep my options open when dating someone new. He seems like a much safer choice.”

  “Then I’ll take that as a no,” he says, confident as ever. “Head to baggage claim and don’t talk to any more strangers. Then call me whenever you have the asset.”

  “Will I be able to carry it?”

  “I doubt it.” He pauses. “Be very careful with it, Autumn. It’s the most important thing in my life.”

  “Okay.” I wait for him to end the call, but I can still hear him breathing over the line.

  “I finished listening to that podcast episode on the plane,” I say.

  “I hope it got better.”

  “Worse.”

  “How so?”

  “All the women said their boyfriends never looked after them in dangerous situations. And they never had the opportunity to go on real dates.”

  “That’s why I told you it was fiction.”

  “I’m only trying to read between the lines, to get an idea of just how bad dating you might get.”

  “You could always ask.”

  “You’ll never answer.” I slip inside a bookstore. “So, I’m going to give you a chance to prove them wrong whenever I’m not working on a ‘job’ for you.”

  “You’ll need to finish a damn job first,” he says, sounding amused. “Then you can tell me how much of that bullshit they’re claiming is true afterwards.”

  “I also need you to know that you’ll never own me or my time. Do you understand that, Ryder?”

  “The only thing I plan on ‘owning’ in the near future is your pussy,” he says. “And just so you understand, I plan on fucking every single question out of you, until you never feel the need to ask me another one.”

  I stop walking, blushing all over, and he lets out a low laugh.

  “Buy a whiteboard and write, ‘For the Rochester Estate, E.R.’ on it,” he says. “And buy a few magazines, too. It’ll make your wait in baggage claim go by faster.”

  “I’ll do that,” are the only words I can manage.

  “Good.” He ends the call, and I walk over to the wall of bestselling novels.

  As I’m picking up a copy of John Grisham’s latest, I remember Kylie.

  Shit.

  Scrolling down to her name, I hit call.

  “Why do they have to make everyone suffer for one asshole’s mistake?” she answers on the first ring.

  “Huh?”

  “I was just about to call you.” She groans. “Some jerk decided to get up and pull on the emergency door mid-flight, so we’re stranded in Colorado for the day.”

  “Oh…”

  “They’re offering refunds, so I think I’ll just—” She pauses. “I’ll rent a car and meet you in Seattle, okay? Would you mind if I stay at your place while we talk?”

  “Kylie, you can just tell me what you have to say about him over the phone.”

  “It isn’t safe.” She lowers her voice. “Can I come to your place or not?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Great. Text me the address.”

  “Will do, but Kylie…” I look over my shoulder, making sure no one is around. Then I decide to play dumb. “Do you think this guy is in the mafia or something?”

  “If it was something like that, I would’ve sent you a text and said, ‘Enjoy the sex,’” she says. “This is way bigger, and it’s about him and Nate.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think I have this wrong. I mean, bits and pieces may be off here or there, but I think…” she starts but stops, and the memory of finding Ryder’s business card in Nate’s dresser drawer suddenly crosses my mind.

  Why doesn’t he want me to know how they’re connected?

  “Text me your address,” she says softly. “I’ll send you my driving updates the whole way.”

  She ends the call, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up all over again.

  “It’s about him and Nate…”

  Just when I think I might be stable, that things might be okay with him, my heart gets thrown into another tailspin.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I send Kylie my address and try not to think too deeply. Whatever she’s found, I’ll know soon enough, and there’s no point in driving myself crazy with anticipation.

  I pick up two more books, grab the latest copy of The Magnolia Journal, and head toward baggage claim.

  Two Hours Later

  The sign that I designed over coffee is seconds away from falling onto the floor.

  I’ve traced the word “Rochester” with every colored marker that came with the whiteboard, and it has done nothing to make time pass by any faster.

  All three of the bestselling novels I purchased feature ‘organized crime’ for their subplots, and I can’t bear to think about that right now.

  That’s what I deserve for not reading the blurbs.

  The bell above the baggage carousel suddenly rings for the umpteenth time—signaling a new flight arrival—and a fresh horde of passengers rushes down the hallway.

  Picking up my sign, I stand and take my place in line with the personal drivers.

  As usual, tons of people pass me without a second glance, and within ten minutes, only a few passengers are left waiting.

  I sigh and pull out my phone, sending Ryder a text.

  Me: This would be a lot easier if you told me what I was looking for.

  His response is immediate.

  Ryder: You’ll know when you see it. Buy another magazine.

  Right.

  A man in dark blue jeans walks toward me, but he makes an abrupt left turn and moves to the woman next to me.

  He sweeps her into his arms and kisses her like no one is watching.

  Before I can walk away and return to my seat, a man dressed in an all-grey suit rolls a massive cello case next to me.

  He sets it upright, and then he walks away.

  “Is this it?” I call out. “Hey!”

  He doesn’t turn around.

  Seconds later, a different grey suit steers a beautiful silver luggage cart in front of me. He places the cello on it, right next to four other violin cases.

  Then he tips his hat at me and walks away.

  Confused, I pick up the top case, checking for extra security locks or seals.

  There aren’t any, so I slide my hand under the buckle and pop it open.

  It’s just a violin…

  I press my fingers against the padding, waiting to feel something that’s hiding, but there’s nothing.

  This is his most important asset? How do I get these to the jet?

  “You’re missing the letter ‘A.’” A beautiful young girl with dark brown hair points to my sign, smiling. “You should always write it with that word.”

  I look at the sign, then back at her. “There’s no ‘A’ in Rochester. Trust me.”

  “There is an A, and an extra ‘R.’” She tilts her head to the side. “I know what the words are supposed to look like.”

  I blink, hoping her parents will pull her away soon. Then again, I could use the company, even if it’s only for a few seconds.

  “My name is Adeline.” She smiles, extending her hand. “But you can call me Adele. I can also teach you how to spell better.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Adele.” I hold back a laugh. “But ‘Rochester’ is spelled exactly like my sign says. Besides, this is what my boss told me to write.”

  “It’s probably because you’re new.” She pulls a red marker from her pocket and presses it against my board.

  Confused, I stare at her as she pens, ‘Here for A.R.’ above ‘For the Rochester Estate, E.R.’

  “See?” She smiles. “The ‘E.R.’ is for him, and the ‘A.R.’ is for me. I’m his daughter.”

  End of Season 1

  Pre-order Season Two, Fated Love with You, by clicking here!

  Flip the page for a sneak peek of my other completed serials to binge in the meantime!

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  Want to jump into another trilogy?

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  This is the second time that she's tried to escape, so I did what was best.

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