Well, now I feel like a horse’s ass.

She was right to slap me—I deserved that.

I know damn well she’s got a boyfriend.

I don’t like that guy, though. I get that he’s good-looking and a fancy surgeon and all that shit. On paper he’s a good match for Riona. But she doesn’t need somebody stiff and proper like that.

She needs somebody who can make her laugh. Who can help her relax a little. Not someone who’s going to amp her up even more.

I guess that sounds like I’m describing myself—I’m not. I know I’m not the right guy for her, either. We’d probably murder each other. Plus my lifestyle doesn’t exactly leave a lot of room for romance.

No romance—just a whole lot of experience.

I’ve seen a whole lot of ugliness and greed and violence.

But I’ve seen gorgeous things too. I’ve seen the sun setting over Victoria Falls. I’ve ridden camels over sand dunes bigger than any ocean wave. I’ve taken a chopper over a volcano half a day before it erupted. And walked on black sand beaches that look like an alien planet.

I keep a list of the best places. Maybe so I can show them to somebody else someday. Maybe just so I don’t forget them.

I can hear Riona showering and getting ready for the day. I go and do the same, so she won’t have to wait on me.

It takes me a lot less time to shower. Probably ‘cause I don’t have two feet of flame-red hair to deal with. I get ready, then I poach some eggs and put some toast on. And I make the coffee extra strong ‘cause I know Riona likes it that way. It’s a peace offering. I can guess it’s gonna take a lot more than coffee and a good night’s rest to cool her off, though.

Sure enough, she comes sweeping out of her room without even a glance at me. She pours herself a mug of coffee and ignores the poached egg I set all nicely on a piece of buttered toast for her.

“Morning,” I say to her.

“Good morning,” she replies coolly.

“About yesterday—”

“We don’t have to talk about that,” she interrupts.

“I’m not tryna go on about it,” I persist. “I just wanted to say . . . I’m sorry.”

Her green eyes flit up at me for just a second, then look away again. I can’t tell if she’s still mad or embarrassed or what. Maybe just surprised I apologized.

“Just—let’s leave it alone,” she says. “The whole thing was embarrassing.”

“Alright,” I say.

Riona grabs her coat and we head down to the underground parking garage. I check the vehicle over carefully before we enter, including looking under the carriage for any unwanted additions. As we drive up to street level, I can tell it’s an ugly day. Freezing cold, windy, and gray as slate. Little bits of sleet whip against the windshield, fine and hard as sand.