“So is everything sorted?” she asked. “Deposit paid and all that?”

He seemed to let it go, smiling back at her. “Yes. It is. I have the entire evening of the fourteenth and all of the fifteenth booked, so we don’t have to rush out of here. That’s actually another benefit of this place—no curfew. We can party all night.”

“Sounds fun.”

Stuart held out an elbow, and she took it, letting him lead her toward the door.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Jai wants to cook for you tonight. He thought we could have dinner together, just the three of us. He wants to get to know you a little better.”

“That sounds great,” she said, meaning it. “As long as you have alcohol, I’m there.”

“You know it.”

They walked out into the late-afternoon sunshine, the air bracing. Stuart grabbed her hands, both of them squeezing more desperately than a simple sign of affection deserved.

“Can you believe I’m getting married?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with tears.

“I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his eyes. “It’s starting to seem real now, I guess.”

She squeezed again, and they turned toward his car. As they got inside, her gaze wandered to the tracks in the snow that marked where Maddie had driven away, leaving her here. Her stomach dropped again, and she pinched her eyes closed, trying not to cry.

Chapter Twelve

After Stuart dropped her off at the hotel, Ryann spent the next few hours catching up on email. She also made several phone calls to her board members, all of whom had returned from London without contacting her. She could sound threatening when she wanted to, and she had the power to boot every single one of them, at least individually, out of the company. They knew that. She used her scary-boss tone and managed to get what she wanted: real answers. According to all of them, London wouldn’t budge. The people there still insisted that nothing could happen sooner than the first week in March. Her company had spent a great deal of money to fly all these useless men to London, put them in a nice hotel for four nights, and they were no further than before they went. After an emergency phone call with Ted, they agreed—she had to go herself. But when? He was looking into it, but they couldn’t plan much until Monday, when the London office opened again. The British actually took weekends off.