Other than responding to a few random texts, I hadn’t spoken to my best friend since my birthday. It was the longest I’d gone without hearing his voice since the day I’d met him. With each passing day that I didn’t answer his calls, my heart hurt a little more, but I kept telling myself this was how it had to be. Hurt a little now to avoid more pain later. It would get better. I would get over this infatuation.

I repeated those words each night like a mantra, but the next morning I would wake up, and the pain would seem to double.

In the hotel restaurant, it wasn’t hard to spot the redhead sitting at a corner table, two bulky men in suits across from her. I weaved my way through the other patrons and tables. When she noticed my approach, her green eyes brightened, and she stood to embrace me.

“Nova,” she greeted, her arms going around me in a tight hug that was kind of comforting. I’d met Emmie Armstrong when Lyric married Mila, and she came to visit often with her husband and Lyric’s parents. Apparently, back before my mom had married my dad, she had worked for the Armstrongs as their nanny. It was weird imagining my mom working for rock royalty, but there were pictures to prove it.

“How was your trip?” she asked as she pulled back, her eyes skimming over every inch of me in a way only mothers seemed to do. From the first time I’d met Emmie, I’d been comfortable around her. There was just something about her that set me at ease. Maybe it was that she exuded the same kind of strength most of the adult women in my life did. After the way she’d taken charge and put together Mila and Monroe’s double wedding in just a week, I’d witnessed just how much power she could wield with only a few clicks on her phone. “I’m so sorry you had to take a commercial flight. I ended up having to do the same since the company jet was being used to pick up the guys. I figured it was easier for them to fly private so I could at least attempt to control the situation.”

“It was an experience,” I said with a laugh, taking the seat beside her when she motioned me toward it. I couldn’t ever remember flying commercial before. Ryan always made sure the jet was available if I needed it. If I’d told him I was traveling, he would have sent his pilot to collect me.

But Ryan had no idea I was anywhere but home. Or maybe he thought I was in Paris with Anya since it was the day after Christmas. This was typically the time the two of us would be arriving at the hotel, and then we would have had a light meal before she put me through my paces. Guns. Knives. One stressful situation after another until she was sure that I was leaving with more finely honed skills than I’d arrived with.