I spun around. Yeah?

Nice work.

I grinned. Thanks, boss. And he’d better believe that I was going to cash in on that free lunch that I’d paid for.

But not today.

Today, I had other plans.

Griffith Park covers more than ten square miles at the east end of the Santa Monica Mountains. One of the largest parks in North America, it’s home to such attractions as the Los Angeles Zoo, the Griffith Observatory and Planetarium, and the famed Hollywood sign.

The merry-go-round was located near the Los Feliz entrance, close to the zoo. I found it easily by following the squeals and shouts of happy children carrying over the vast expanse of lawn. I walked around the perimeter, finding an empty bench on the south side, and sat down.

I jangled my knees up and down. I tapped my fingers on the armrest. I whistled off key along with the organ music being pumped in time with the twirling horses.

I looked down at my watch. 12:01. He was late. Okay, one minute late. Which was hardly anything. I decided to cut him some slack and waited.

I blew out a big breath, trying to calm my tightly wound nerves. I tried to tell myself this was nothing, that it would more than likely be a singularly awkward encounter, and we’d both be relieved to go home and forget about each other.

But I knew that was bullshit.

Black had become my best friend. My confidant. As screwed up as my feelings toward Cal were, they were just as screwy toward Black. I mean, how could you fall for someone inside a computer? You couldn’t. No more than you could fall for someone who was just doing his job, just looking out for you because he was being paid to, and then walked away as easily as anything when it was all over?

You couldn’t.

And I wasn’t.

I looked down at my watch. Black was still late.

I watched a kid fight with his sister over who got the gray mare. A couple of teenagers tried to share a horse, the girl falling off the back halfway through the ride, laughing. A guy selling ice cream from a little cart walked by, ringing a bell.

Twelve ten. Still no Black.

Well, hell. I’d been stood up.

Stood up by an internet loser.

Fabulous.

I was just about to take the walk of shame back to the parking lot and call a cab home when I felt a shadow fall over me from behind. I paused, something akin to hope fluttering in my belly.

Knock, knock.

My breath caught in my throat. Black.

My body suddenly froze, afraid to turn around and see the man attached to that voice. Instead, I made my own shaky voice answer, Who’s there?

Dewey.

Dewey who?

Dewey get to meet now?