I walked across the room slowly, noting the pictures of him with members of Congress, plaques, a coat of arms, and degrees adorned the walls. To my disgust, the large painting of my mother and me still hung between the two large windows over-looking Fleet Rink.

“That’s going to have to go,” I said, collapsing into Jack's large, black leather chair.

The stack of unopened envelopes was my first order of business, and then I read my company emails. Bored as I was, at least it kept my mind from Jared and the time. Just as the sun began to set, my cell phone chirped.

“Hey Bex,” I said through a yawn, “almost done.”

“Well that’s good news, Sweetheart,” Jared said.

“Hi!” I said, my voice far too high to feign anything but elation. In reaction, I leaned over to look out the window to the street. No black Escalade.

“You’re not coming home tonight, are you?” I said, deflated.

“On the contrary. I will be home at ten. Is that too late for dinner?”

The road noise should have given it away, but I had expected to be disappointed. “Where are you?”

“On the road,” he said.

I sighed. “Do I need security clearance for that answer?”

Jared laughed. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. Bex tells me you had a good night’s sleep last night. Is this true?”

“It is. No bad dreams.”

“I look forward to watching you sleep the whole night through, then.”

“See you soon,” I smiled.

My steps were light as I made my way out of the building, and I couldn’t contain my smile when I sat in the passenger seat of the BMW.

“You talked to Jared,” Bex said with a knowing smile.

“He’s coming home,” I smiled.

“We better go move his stuff around and hide his home gym,” Bex smiled, pulling away from the curb. “He’ll hate that.”

I laughed. “You’re in charge of the home gym. I’ll mix up the forks and spoons.”

“I got it covered,” Bex said with an mischievous grin. “You have dinner plans.”

“Oh. Right,” I said, sinking into the sink with a huff.

Bex sped to Cynthia’s faster and with more precision than any television car chase I’d ever seen, much less been a part of. He jerked the wheel, and let the Beemer slide, counter-clockwise, into the loft’s parallel parking spot.

“One of you will get pulled over one of these days, and I’m going to laugh,” I said, trying to steady myself once my feet hit the pavement.

“Our boss has plenty of money to bail us out,” he smiled.

“I won’t bail you out. I’ll laugh.”

“Even if it was Jared?” Bex said, escorting me up the iron steps.

“Especially if it was Jared.”

“I don’t believe you. And if Claire found out about it….”