The moment she spotted him in the doorway of her office, she knew there would be trouble. That was why she gave him the look—the universal one that signified that there was more to the situation than met the eye. After her subtle warning, Brett should’ve backed off and let her handle things in a professional manner, one befitting a place of business. But he hadn’t.

No, instead he’d caused a huge scene in front of her coworkers at the bank that embarrassed her to no end. Not to mention that she almost lost her job over it. So yeah, she’d broken up with Brett and told him that she never wanted to see him again.

Sidney gave him a tight smile. “I’m glad you’re doing well, Brett. It’s good to hear.”

“Thanks.”

She glanced toward her house. “Well, I should probably go inside. Thank you for your help tonight. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I’ll have your car ready in the morning. Would you like me to swing by here and pick you up before I head to the shop?”

“Um, no. I think it’s better if I find my own ride. Thanks for the offer though. If you can just call me to let me know when it’s ready, that would be great.”

“Sure.”

She opened her door and climbed out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride home.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling.

Chapter Three

The next morning, Brett called Sidney to let her know her car was ready to be picked up. While he was still disappointed that she’d refused a ride to the shop, he understood that she wanted to keep her distance from him. They weren’t together anymore, and she clearly wanted to keep it that way.

Just because he’d thought about her every day for the past year didn’t mean she’d done the same. If the new hair and new car didn’t state the obvious, then the fact that she’d been avoiding him for so long should’ve told him what he needed to know. She had moved on.

Serves me right. She deserves better anyway.

Though Sidney had never acted like the spoiled brat she claimed to be, Brett didn’t exactly make a ton of money. That was usually what happened when you worked for someone else. But he was tired of killing himself by working twelve-hour shifts, only to collect a measly hourly wage while the owner of the business kicked his feet up on his desk and counted all the dough his employees brought in for him.