“Finally,” Chase said to the man walking toward her.

“Sorry, Ladybug. You know how traffic is out here,” he said as he leaped gracefully over the concrete parking bumper and pulled Chase into a hug.

“Oh my God. That’s Spencer Rome, Sadie,” the midwesterner said to the toddler in her arms as if the tiny girl could understand. “He’s the Hammer. The Hammer!”

The man turned, and damned if Olivia didn’t feel something squiggly in her tummy at the sheer prettiness of the man staring at the woman and toddler with a quizzical look on his face.

Olivia recognized him from the billboard years ago that had made him famous, the one featuring him sprawled in a rumpled bed wearing nothing but a fancy watch, his skin golden and rippling with sleek muscle. The come-hither look paired with the sheer perfection of his body had caused three wrecks within a week’s time. She’d heard the advertising agency responsible for the ad had won a Clio for the sexy billboard that had appeared in Times Square and downtown LA simultaneously. After that, everyone had wanted to know who the watch guy was. He became a sensation, one that even a girl like Olivia had looked at multiple times.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked, looking from Olivia to the midwestern mommy, who now seemed to be in danger of drooling as much as her teething toddler. “You said it was an emergency.”

“It so is,” Chase said, stepping from the curb, seemingly heading toward Spencer’s vehicle.

“Stop, Chase,” Olivia said to the woman’s back, opening the car door and stepping out. She glanced over at Spencer. “She can’t go with you.”

Spencer looked even more confused. “Wait, who are you?”

“She’s nobody. Let’s go,” Chase called back over her shoulder.

“If Chase gets into your car, I’m calling the police, and you’ll be part of this.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Spencer said, holding up a hand. He wore black athletic shorts, white sneakers, and a T-shirt, which somehow looked about as sexy as that past billboard. Almost.

The woman with the toddler had pulled out her phone.

Crap on a cracker. This was about to be an issue.

“Ma’am, can you please put your phone away?” Olivia said, turning to the woman, ignoring Spencer.

“I don’t have to. I know who she is. I see it now. Chase London,” she said, lifting the phone in Chase’s direction. “They pay for this stuff.”

Spencer stepped toward the woman. “Hey, what’s your little girl’s name? She’s a cutie.”

He had to have employed his notoriously charming smile, because the woman lowered the phone, and the expression on her face made Olivia think about rolling her eyes. Instead she turned and followed a determined Chase, who had her hand on the door of a low-slung sports car that was thankfully locked.

“Chase, please. This situation is getting out of control. Come with me, and I’ll take you back to Cedar Point. Or I can call the police. And it’s going to blow up if the police come. Any chance you have to recover and resurrect your career will be gone.”