2

Always.

And, according to her, today was one.

“To moments,” I repeated.

She took a drink from her glass, and then she crossed her arms over the table and leaned in closer. “Tell me all about your day. I want to hear every detail.”

I had known this question was coming. That was partly why I’d wanted to cancel. “I woke up, went for a run, and went to work, and now, I’m meeting you. There’s not much else to tell.”

“Alix …”

She didn’t say my name in a reprimanding way.

She said it as though she were encouraging me to talk about it. Because Rose forever assumed I needed to get something off my chest.

“Work was fine,” I said. “The entire shift was rather uneventful, honestly, and for the most part, it was a shockingly safe day in Boston.”

Her face began to relax.

I certainly hadn’t missed how tense it looked.

“And it was a sunny day,” she said.

I nodded. “I’m thankful for that.” I took another sip, hoping I’d satisfied her enough that she would change the topic.

“I have news.”

Relieved that I’d gotten my wish, I reached forward and grabbed a cube of cheese and a slice of prosciutto. “Oh, yeah? What kind of news?”

“I picked a man.”

“What?” I said, chewing the bite that was in my mouth. “You already have a man, so why in the hell would you be looking for another one?”

“He’s not for me. He’s for you.”

I shook my head. “Oh no.”

“You know I’ve been dying to set you up with one of the art directors in my office, and now, it’s finally time. Don’t think I forgot the promise you made me.”

Three months and one week ago, Rose had asked if she could set me up.

I’d told her I would consider it in three months.

She had been smart not to ask me last week.

She was even smarter to ask me now.

I set down the almost-empty glass I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Just as I was about to respond, she said, “I’m not asking you to get serious with the guy. I just want you to meet him for dinner. The same thing we’re doing right now. If there’s chemistry, pursue him. If there isn’t, then at least you tried.”

“You really want to get me laid, don’t you?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

I opened my mouth and then instantly closed it. I needed to think about what I was going to say before something unforgettable came tumbling out of it. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

“Good.” She grinned. “Then, let me get you laid.”

I didn’t know if I’d actually go on the date with the art director. But, to avoid one of Rose’s talks, I smiled and made sure my tone was convincing when I said, “I can hardly wait.”

Two

Dylan

Three Years and Two Months Ago

The first time I had seen Alix Rayne, she had been walking into the restaurant I was dining at. She was there with a girl, who I later learned was Rose, her best friend. I was there with another woman.

I didn’t mean to watch Alix move across the room. My date just wasn’t holding my attention.

And, because I was used to taking in my surroundings, my peripheral vision more sensitive than most, once Alix entered from my direct right, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She was absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Both women landed at a table less than ten yards from mine.

Alix sat, facing me.

Then, she laughed at something Rose had said and glanced down at the wine menu.

“Dylan?” my date said.

I turned my head, staring at her now but listening for sounds coming from the other table. “Yeah?”

“Didn’t you want to order some wine with dinner? I think it should be here soon.”

I didn’t want to be rude, but I no longer wanted to have dinner with her.

Not even if that meant a guaranteed blow job in the backseat while my driver took her home.

I wanted to be with the beautiful woman at the other table. The one with long chocolate-colored hair and a curvy waist and lips that naturally were pouty and pale pink.

Just as I was about to respond, a vibration came from the inside of my jacket. I reached into my pocket and took out my cell. When I saw the name on the screen, I said to my date, “I have to take this.” My finger swiped the phone, and I held it up to my ear, “Yes?”

“I have a situation,” my assistant said.

“Talk.”

“One of the pilots showed up, under the influence. He’s been sent home, and boarding has been delayed. The plane is scheduled to leave Logan International Airport in thirty minutes. I’ve contacted all of the other pilots in the area, and none are available. How would you like to proceed?”

“Where’s it going?”

“Las Vegas.”

She wanted to know if I would fly the plane or if she should book the passengers a commercial flight and issue them a credit for the inconvenience.

My customers used my airline for many reasons.

One of those was that we always got them into the air, and it was never on a commercial vessel.

We figured it out.

No matter what that looked like.

Therefore, she knew my answer before I said, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“I’ll let the airport know.”

I put the phone into my jacket and reached into my back pocket for my wallet. I took out three one-hundred-dollar bills, knowing that was more than enough to cover everything we had ordered, and set them on the table. “I have to go.”

“What? Seriously?”