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      I bent down to look at him once more. Just once. Give me that. My willpower didn't stretch to slamming the door shut behind me without looking back and striding into the workplace now so boring and mundane by comparison.

      Those eyes.

      "Have a nice day, Holt." He winked up at me, reached for the inside door handle.

      Ask me to stay. Once more. Ask me and I'll do it. How the hell have I managed to say no to you so many times? I hate my job. It was okay. Then there was you. Now it's... Ask me to stay. Hell, I'll quit my shitty little job altogether if you want. All you have to do is ask.

      I took a deep breath. Made it a slow one, just to give him time.

      Nothing.

      Summoning acting skills of which Hilary Swank would be proud, I grinned. "And, uh... thanks for the ride, Carson."

      And like an automaton, my body straightened, let the door go, watched him pull it shut then turned and marched into the diner.

      While Leo Carson drove away with some indescribable, unnamed piece of me.

      "Girl, what is your problem today?" Karen, one of my workmates, asked that afternoon as we took a brief lunch break in the staff room. "You're in a world of your own."

      "Am I?" I tried to look nonchalant but it required such effort in the end I gave up and yawned. And no wonder, after so little sleep. The fluorescent strip lights in the poky chamber lulled me closer to sleep with each intermittent flicker.

      "Yes. Come on. Tell all. Splitting from that slurping douchecock hasn't taken such a toll on your emotional wellbeing that you're losing sleep over him, has it?"

      "Was he really that bad?" I asked, suddenly curious. "I mean, was I making a tit of myself going out with him? No, wait." I pushed my plate aside, having left most of my macaroni cheese to waste. The ache just below my ribs wasn't hunger pangs and couldn't be cured by a plate of pasta.

      "No, no, he's a looker. I'll give you that. You know how to pick 'em, but..." Karen tutted and her black brows knitted together. She leaned across the Formica-topped table, balancing on her elbows and I mirrored her stance, sucked in to her conspiratorial mood. "You came into work a few times frowning. And when anyone asked what was up, you'd say Andrew in that voice of yours—"

      "What voice?"

      "That 'don't fuck with me, this is bigger than PMT' voice." Karen's lips thinned to a bleached line. "Makes me wonder why anyone goes out with a fella who pisses them off so much. I could see the end coming you know." She sat

back, a stern look on her face.

"Far be it from you to say you told me so, huh?"

      "Oh no, no, no. Well, yeah. I was waiting for the day you'd split. You didn't smile much when you were with Andrew, did you know that?"

      "No, no. I didn't. Not at all?"

      "Oh in the beginning, when it was new, yeah. But in the end?" She shrugged. "Not so much. Crisp?" She offered a mini tub of Pringles but I shook my head, no.

      "Not hungry."

      "Hmm. You have got it bad, whatever's eating you. If it's not Andrew."

      "Hell no." I shook my head. "I haven't thought about him in ages." I sipped my can of coke and set it down again. "I haven't forgotten anyone's orders today," I pointed out. "Or dropped anything."

      "No, but you haven't smiled either, which is why I thought Andrew was messing with your brains."

      "Nope."

      "Okay." She stretched back in the plastic chair, drumming the tips of her fingers on the table edge. "Then what's his name?"

      "Who?"

      "Don't fuck with me, Holt. The only thing that could make a woman drift around her workplace like you're doing today has a cock and balls and—"

      Snorting with laughter, I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. "Karen!"

      "Oh, like you're not used to such crude talk. Do me a favor."

      She hadn't mentioned the black Jag or enquired after its driver so I assumed she hadn't seen Leo drop me off. Or perhaps she hadn't made the connection, which was unlikely as how many people with Jaguars did we know? They'd be bound to stand out. Especially if she'd seen me clambering out of one. In a way I was glad of her lack of Jaguar-specific interrogation, because if someone made enquiries I'd want to talk about him so much that once started, I'd find it impossible to shut up.

      "I'm just tired, that's all," I said, hoping she'd drop it. Knowing she wouldn't.

Her raised eyebrows and crossed arms told me so.

"Honestly. I haven't had much sleep."

      "Hmm." If it were possible, her eyebrows inched even higher and she rearranged her crossed arms under her ample bosom in a positively sarcastic way, tilting her chair on its back legs as she did so.

      "Karen. Stop it."

      "Stop what?"

      "Stop looking at me like... okay, okay, I give up. I've been shagging all weekend."

      "Ha!" she screeched, letting the chair drop and jabbing at me with one finger. "Thought so! What's his name?"

      "Karen Lynch. What makes you think I got his name?"

      "Nothing would surprise me. So come on, 'fess up."

      "Don't you have a life of your own?"

      "With that joke of a husband? Are you kidding? No. I live my social life vicariously through tarts like you."

      "Thanks a bundle."

      "Ah, I mean it as a term of endearment," she said with a wave of one hand. "I haven't been out on the piss in ages."

      "I wasn't drunk, you know."

      "Was he?"

      "We only had one drink."

      "Hmm. Fast worker, eh?"

      "I didn't pick him up that night. I knew him beforehand."

      "How long for? Twenty-four hours?"

      "Oh, excuse me, I think I just prolapsed my sphincter muscles laughing so much."

      "Yeah, yeah. I know. That's long term for you, isn't it?"

      "A week."

      Karen whistled through pursed lips. "So you met a dude after your split from Andrew and you've already spent the night with him?"

      "Nearly the whole weekend."

      "Ooh. Bit of a stud was he?"

      "Shame, I'd love to stop and chat but break time's nearly over."

      "You're not getting out of it that easily."

      "Gotta get back to work now."

      "Piper. Stop it. You've got to at least tell me what he was like."

      "Exhausting." I stood, carrying my plate, planning to scrape it into the bin before rinsing and leaving it on the draining board. Staff room hygiene was a little more lax than that of the customer kitchen, but no one had died of botulism in front or back of house, so I figured we were good.

      "Are you seeing him again?"

      I flinched. Felt it happen, hoped Karen hadn't seen it.

      "Well?"

      Persistent little bugger, aren't you? I wanted to ask, without a clue how to answer. Replying in the negative would hurt too damn much. Replying in the affirmative would be untrue because I... just...

      "Don't know." I shrugged, marveling at my shoulders' ability be casual when the heart beneath them most definitely was not. "We didn't make any arrangements to meet up again." The words, bitter ashes on my tongue, made me want to gag. I wanted out of the room, or at least away from Karen and her questions but my feet refused to move.

      "But... if you knew him for a week before you hooked up, he must have got in touch somehow so I'm assuming he's got your number?"

      Warmth spread out from the ache below my ribs and it took me a second to realize what it was.

      Hope.

      "Yes. He does."

      "Maybe he'll call."

      "Maybe he will." Joy rose within me. "Maybe he won't." And dissolved. "Maybe he got what he wanted," I added, knowing there was no maybe about it. Sure he had. What I didn't know was if he was the type of man to be up for a rematch. Oh sure, he could easily have gone again this morning, but the point was, that might have been because I was there. Available. Would he go out of his way to seek me out now the conquest had been... well, conquered? Battle won, challenge met, target fucked, mission accomplished?

      "There's only one thing I can say to all this, Piper."

      "Oh?" I rolled my eyes and sighed. There was no point

in protesting verbally; Karen would say it anyway. An eye roll and a sigh were my versions of rebellion.

      "I just hope he's a better man than Andrew was."

      A sharp burst of laughter sprang out of me. "Oh God, yeah. Jesus..." As I shook my head, tears of hilarity welled up in my eyes. Or at least I told myself that's what they were. "No contest. Absolutely no contest."

      "Good." She winked. "Then Andrew is out of your system, then?"

      "Karen. Andrew was out of my system before he was out of the relationship." Gratified to see a genuine smile on Karen's face by way of reply, I continued. "There's no fear of me backsliding to the days when I thought dating men like Andrew Kincaid was a good idea."

      "Yes, those long gone days of only a few weeks ago?"

      "A lot can change in a few weeks," I pointed out, ignoring the voice at the back of my mind which added, a lot can change in a weekend.

      "All right, all right, hold your bloody horses!" I yelled as the doorbell rang for the third time in quick succession.

      My forehead tightened in an uncontrolled frown but I stopped mid-stride in my hall, stared at the front door and my facial muscles relaxed as I remembered what had happened there not long since, wondering, hoping...

      Steps quickening, I soon got to the front door, unlocked it, hauled it open-

      "Oh. It's you."

      "Piper." That disapproving tone again, making me feel as if I'd done something wrong. "Is that any way to greet your boyfriend?"

      "Exboyfriend."

      "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Andrew shrugged. "Aren't you gonna invite me in?"

      "I didn't exactly invite you to my front door, did I?"

      "Oh, you know what I mean. Now I'm here."

      "You didn't think of phoning first?"

      "Ah, but you could have ignored my calls."

      "And if I had, what would that have told you?"

      He sighed heavily, looking surprisingly childlike. He wore a red fleece jacket with the hood down, jeans and trainers. The uniform of a youth a decade younger than his twenty-five years. "As I'm here..."

      "What do you want?"

      "I believe I left some things here."

      "Such as?"

      Another shrug. "CDs. Couple of books. Nothing important, but..." He took a step back as if leaving, or

considering doing so.

"Oh, fine, fine, come in. And be quick about it."

      "Charming." He stepped across the threshold and I shut the door behind him. "It's not that late."

      "No, it isn't, but..."

      "Expecting someone?" he asked, the hint of a sneer in his voice.

      Instant denial might be a bad idea; better to let him think someone was due round so he wouldn't hang about long. Then again he might be curious about my mysterious (non-existent) visitor. "What did you leave here anyway? Your Judy Garland CDs and penis pump, wasn't it?"

      "Can't we be civil about this?"

      "Oh all right then, if you insist. Not that that's any fun. Go on, you know where the living room is."

      "How do you know I didn't leave any of my gear in the bedroom?" He raised his eyebrows and a half smile touched his lips. Briefly I wondered if this was his attempt at making himself attractive.

      Was he... was he flirting?

      A shudder tickled at the small of my back, threatening to ripple my spine but I shifted, managed to shake it down. "There's nothing of yours in that room, believe me, Andrew." Trying to convince myself he wouldn't do anything, especially given our exchange the night we'd finished, I followed him to the living room, hovered in the doorway, waited for him to say something, do something, break the awkward silence.

      He stood in the middle of my living room with his back to me, looking around the place as if all was new, as if he hadn't been here a thousand times before.

      As I watched him, it struck me; this had always been my place. Andrew's had always been his. We'd never considered moving in together. At least I hadn't. Of course I'd loved him in my own way; I wouldn't have stayed with him otherwise, but I suppose in the back of my mind I'd never seen it as permanent, heading in the direction of being a true, unified couple.

      Damn it, was Andrew a placeholder boyfriend all along? I straightened, no longer leaning on the door frame. Was I that desperate for male company I was willing to stay with a guy I could never commit to, just until something