“Two months.”

“Reasonable.” He pulled out his phone. “Let me check with him.”

“You do that,” she said.

He headed outside into the parking lot. Through the window, she saw him talking on his cell. She watched him pace between her car and his SUV. Finally, he pocketed his phone and came back inside. “No dice. He wants a face-to-face meeting.”

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t. “No.”

“I thought you wanted to get rid of him?”

“More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“Then offer him something he can’t resist. Other than yourself.”

She exploded out of her chair. “When did I get to be so fricking irresistible? Will you tell me that?”

“I’m not the person to answer. Not that I don’t find you charming.”

She bared her teeth. “I don’t want to talk to him!”

“I understand. But this is a negotiation.”

It was madness was what it was. “Two free months of IT, and I’ll do his employee background checks for a year. One full year!”

“Now you’re talking.” He slithered out into the parking lot again. She sank behind her desk. They’d made a pact to torture her.

On the other side of the window, Heath was talking. He braced a hand on his hip, pushing back the front edge of his sports coat. Talked some more. Finally, he came back inside.

“He turned you down.”

“Of course he did,” she said bitterly. “He hates to lose so much he’ll do anything to win, no matter how unconscionable.”

“Not the kindest assessment coming from a woman in love.”

She stared at a point right above his eyebrows. “I’m not in love. And you need to leave.”

“I could do that, but… it seems Annabelle’s stuck her nose in this whole affair, and she’s decided you and Coop need some kind of closure. I don’t know what it is with women and closure, but there you have it. I should warn you that dealing with me is easier than being forced to deal with my wife. I know she seems decent, but inside, she’s a desperado.”

“Annabelle wants me to do this?”

“She’s real big on that ‘closure’ thing.” He sounded regretful. “If I screw this up, I promised I’d call her, and she’ll be over here right away.”

Piper collapsed. She could fight the men, but not Annabelle.

A wave of weariness came over her. “I’ll meet him, but only in public.” She slumped back in her chair. “Big Shoulders Coffee tomorrow afternoon. And only if he gives me his word of honor that he won’t try to contact me again afterward.”

Somehow she’d pull herself together enough to get through it. The coffee shop was well lit and small enough for conversations to be overheard, so he couldn’t get too heated, and she’d be guaranteed to keep her clothes on.

“Hold on.” Heath whipped out his cell.

She wanted to scream. Or cry.

This time the Python stayed inside. “Coop, she’ll meet you, but only in public-Big Shoulders Coffee tomorrow afternoon-and only if you agree not to contact her again after that.” Heath listened, tapped his foot. “Uh-huh… Uh-huh… All right.” He hung up and looked over at her. “It has to be today. And not at Big Shoulders. He has a meeting at city hall, so he’ll see you in Daley Plaza right afterward. Two o’clock. It doesn’t get much more public than that. I think you should take the deal.”

How could winning matter so much? He already had her heart. Now he wanted to stomp it to death.

“Agree?” Heath said.

Her shoulders slumped. “Agree.”

“I’ll never complain about livestock again,” he muttered as he crossed to the door and let himself out.

She shot across the rug, flung the door back open, and yelled into the parking lot. “I hope you choke on your blood vegetables!”

He turned and gave her a thumbs-up, whatever that meant.

23

Piper marched toward the Daley Center as if she were heading to her execution. Anger would have been a more useful emotion than the panic that held her in its grip. She needed to get through this with at least a shred of dignity intact. No matter how much she loved him, how much she’d yearn to fall into his arms, she’d have to hang tough.

An alien-like Picasso sculpture dominated the large plaza in front of the thirty-one-story Daley Center building. Picasso himself had donated the sculpture to the city, and once an artist of his stature handed over such a thing, nobody had the nerve to return it. As Piper approached, the sculpture’s two metal eyes glowered at her, and she glowered right back. Glowering was better than running away.

The wind cracked the American flag, and women’s long hair blew backward. Her zippered sweater wasn’t warm enough for such a cold, damp day. She should have worn her puffy coat, but that would have required thought.

Coop was already there. He stood in the shadow of the Picasso with his head down, unrecognized by the people scurrying past. For a moment, she forgot to breathe.

He saw her, but he didn’t approach. Instead, he waited for her to come to him. He wore a dark, formal suit, white shirt, and repp-striped necktie. She stopped a few steps away, far enough to keep from curling into his chest. “You win,” she said stonily. “Say whatever it is you want to say, and then leave me alone.”

He gazed at her as if he were memorizing her face. She waited for something profound to come out of his mouth, but it didn’t. “What have you been up to?” he said.

“Avoiding you. It’s been a full-time job.”

He nodded, as if he were agreeing with her. He was watching her so intensely, she had to look away. “Get it over with, Coop. Why did you send your shark of an agent after me?”

“I needed to talk to you, and you were making that impossible.”

She couldn’t soften in front of him. “I’m here. Say whatever it is you want to say.”

“You might not like it.”

“Then maybe you’d better keep it to yourself.”

“I can’t do that. It’s…” He hunched his shoulders against the wind. “It’s tough, that’s all.”

She thought she understood. “You want to end this on your terms, not on mine, so go ahead. Break up with me. You’ll feel better if it comes from you, and I can handle it.”

“I don’t want to break up with you.”

“Then what do you want?” she cried. “I won’t move in with you!”

“I get that.” A pair of pigeons scuttled between them. “I know you’re not strong enough to say how you feel about me, so I’m going to tell you how I feel about you.”

He was accusing her of being weak. Nobody did that, and she went on the offensive, throwing his words back at him. “You already did. You’re maybe a little bit in love with me, remember?”

“I only said it that way to keep from scaring you off.”

He’d thrown her off balance.

“You’re skittish about us,” he said. “You have been from the beginning, and if I’d told you the truth, you would have run. You still might, because I only think I know how you feel about me. I can read your mind about nearly everything, but not about this.”

She took a bittersweet morsel of comfort from knowing she’d protected herself, at least a little. “I’m not following this conversation, but when have I been able to follow anything you and your agent doppelgänger do?”

“I love you, Piper. I didn’t fall a little bit in love with you. I fell head over heels.”

The wind screeched in her ears, and her stomach pitched.

He didn’t move. Didn’t touch her. A chunk of her hair whipped against her cheek.

“I must have known for a long time,” he said quietly, “but I didn’t understand what I was feeling until that bastard had his gun on you, and I felt my chest crack open.”

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweater, not believing, fighting the lure of hope. “An adrenaline rush can make you feel lots of strange things.”

“I know all about adrenaline rushes, and they go away. My feelings aren’t going to do that.”

The bitterness of reality crept up on her. “It hasn’t even been two weeks. Give it time.”

“Can you really be so cynical?”

She didn’t feel cynical. She felt as fragile as spun sugar. She’d pushed his champion’s back to the wall, and he was fighting his way out in the only way he knew, by brute force.

“Take a risk, Piper,” he said. “I’m not Duke Dove. Tell me how you feel-the truth. Either you love me or you don’t. Dig deep. I need to know.”

She didn’t have to dig deep. But saying it aloud was impossible. Yet, if she didn’t, wasn’t she taking the coward’s way out?

She was hard-core. Hanging tough was how she lived. She shoved her fists deeper in her pockets. “Yes, I love you. Sure, I do. How could I not?” She threw the words in his face. “I love you enough not to let this go any further. We’re too different to have a future, so what’s the point?”

“The only thing different about us is our bank accounts.”

“A big difference.”

“Only if you believe money is all that counts.”

“And fame. And nightclubs. And Super Bowl rings-”

“Which neither of us has.”

“-and Hollywood girlfriends.”

“People say opposites attract. The funny thing about that is we’re not opposites. We’re the same person, different sides of the same coin.” A muscle twitched at the corner of his jaw. “Except I’m clearheaded and you’re not.”

“That isn’t-”

“Here’s what I don’t get: Why is it so hard for you to believe I could love you?”

He was trying to confuse her, and she said the first thing that came into her head. “I’m not beautiful. And you’re famous. And I’m not domestic.”

He turned belligerent. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“And your money.”

“You already mentioned that.”

A group of businessmen had spotted him and began to close in. She spun on them. “Not now!”

For once, Coop didn’t try to make up for her brusqueness with a good ol’ boy acknowledgment. He didn’t even turn.