Ana goes over some of the finer details of the Winter Wonderland Gala before she has to get on a conference call with a hockey player who had a little too much fun in Mexico. I walk out of her office at the same time River walks out of his.

“Good afternoon, Mr. McGowan,” I say as we wait for the elevator.

“Olivia.” He doesn’t look up from his phone.

The McGowans are men of many words.

I hate silence.

“Any big plans for tonight?” I ask.

“A Monday night with two feet of snow in the forecast? No, Ms. Langley, I don’t have big plans.”

I frown. “I meant for Asher’s birthday.”

River looks at me for the first time since we stepped into the elevator. “Today’s Asher’s birthday?”

“Yes?”

He chuckles. “For some reason I thought that he was born in April.”

The doors part on my floor. I’m so stunned that I barely remember how to walk. What kind of father doesn’t remember his son’s birthday? I want to tell him that he should be ashamed of himself, but when I turn around, the doors are shut and River is gone.

* * *

Asher answers the door on the seventh knock. I’m standing in his hallway covered in snow and shivering, attempting to balance a six pack of Stella on a cake box while struggling to hold onto my purse and his birthday present. He doesn’t offer to help. All he can manage is a frown.

“I’m busy.”

“You’re never too busy for me.” I shove the cake and beer at him and invite myself into his apartment, which is welcomed warmth that practically leaves me melting onto his floor.

I kick off my boots before I get too far because I’m considerate and don’t want to track snow into his house. And after I drop my bags onto the counter, I turn back to Asher and give him my come-hither-eyes as I rip off my jacket, revealing my very sexy snowman sweater and fleece-lined leggings.

“Happy Birthday, Mr. McGowan.”

He frowns. “Who told you?”

“I’m very resourceful.”

“Did you go down to city hall and get a copy of my birth certificate?”

“Of course not,” I say. “Francesca told me at spin class this morning.”

He blinks. “You went to a spin class?”

“That’s what you’re most surprised about?”

He snorts. “The amount of money I would have paid to see that.”

“Me bent over a bike?” My lips curve into a smirk as a blush creeps over his cheeks. “Sounds much hotter than it actually was. My legs feel like Jell-O and my vagina—”

“Olivia.”

“Right, sorry, you don’t care about my ailing lady parts.”

His pained expression suggests that maybe he does.

“Should we start with your present or your cake?”