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Ander had moreexperience with the world than any man she’d ever met. He must have expectedsomething to happen.

She’d stammeredout some sort of explanation, concluding with how she couldn’t be his clientanymore. As she’d spoken, Ander’s expression had grown more and more shuttered.

“I’m sorry,”she’d said shakily, trying to counter the way Ander was closing himself off asshe watched. “It just doesn’t feel professional to me anymore. I just can’t.”

“Lori, itdoesn’t have to be—”

“It’s allmessed up,” she interrupted, terrified of what he might say. She wasn’tprepared to hear anything that might come out of his mouth. “There’s no way itwon’t be messed up between us now. I don’t feel the way I should.”

“I don’t feel—”

“Ander, please.I’m so sorry.” His attempts to speak and the expression in his eyes was sendingher into a panic.

She didn’t knowwhat he wanted to say, but she’d been picking up little signs and clues fromhim for months. And finally, after the intensity of the night before, thepieces were all falling into place. She didn’t know exactly how he felt abouther, but she knew she wasn’t the only one with strong feelings. But shecouldn’t let him say it, not even what she was longing for him to say. “Anythingyou say is going to confuse things even more. I can’t be with you anymore.”

Then she addedin a weak mumble, since she couldn’t stand the sound of her last words. “Notnow, anyway.”

Ander’s facehad frozen into an empty calm, and she knew he would no longer try to argue.

“I’d like to befriends,” she’d added, even knowing his expression boded the worst. “If...if youthink it’s possible. I know things have been not quite right between us, butyou mean a lot to me. And I’d like...I’d like to be friends.”

When he didn’trespond, she said lamely, “I’ll email you. We can just...just see.”

Ander wassitting mostly naked in the bed, the sheet draped over his lap. And it had beenthe hardest thing in the world for her to put her shoes on and get ready toleave him.

She hesitatedbefore she left, the world unbalanced beneath her feet. “I...I’m sorry. I don’tknow if I need to pay you for last night.”

And that hadsnuffed any slim possibility of a fond farewell.

That morning, Lorihad been working on fear, on self-preservation, on the need to recover any partof her security. But she’d screwed everything up. She’d handled it terribly.She emailed Ander later that day to apologize and try to explain herselfbetter, but he hadn’t yet replied to her email.

She was prettysure now he wasn’t going to.

She was certainabout her decision. She wasn’t sure of the nature of Ander’s feelings, but shewas pretty sure he saw her as more than a client. She and Ander, however, hadonly ever related in ways that were unnatural or artificial because it hadalways been about her paying him. While they’d managed to bond despite thecircumstances, she couldn’t see it leading to a healthy relationship.

They had totake a step back before they could ever take a step forward, and now any stepforward seemed impossible.

An assistantmanager came out to return her overnight bag, and after Lori thanked him hesaid, “Your friend is in the bar, if you’re looking for him.”

Lori blinked.“My friend?”

“Yes. Yourfriend. He’s in the bar. Your pardon, ma’am, I thought you were here to meethim.”

She mumbled outthanks and walked through the lobby and toward the hotel bar. It was almostseven in the evening but the bar wasn’t very crowded.

Lori stood inthe entrance and stared at a man seated alone at one of the pub tables with hisback to the door.

He was lean andurban in well-tailored trousers and expensive leather shoes. He had one swallowof scotch left in his glass. And he was completely bald.

Withoutquestioning the instinct, Lori walked over to him. She pulled a chair up nextto him at the table and perched on the edge.

Ander twitchedin surprise at her appearance, but that was his only reaction. He took a sip ofhis scotch and looked at her steadily without speaking or smiling.

“Hi.” She gavehim a tentative smile.

“Hi.”

“You didn’treturn my email.”

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