HE odds of finding a magic key tucked in one of the thousands of books at the Pleasant Valley Library were long and daunting. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t look.

In any case, she liked being in the stacks, surrounded by books. She could, if she let her mind open to it, hear the words murmuring from them. All those voices from people who lived in worlds both fantastic and ordinary. She could, simply by slipping a book off the shelf, slide right into one of those worlds and become anyone who lived inside it.

Magic keys and soul-sucking sorcerers, Dana thought. Incredible as they might be, they paled for her against the power of words on a page.

But she wasn’t here to play, she reminded herself as she began dutifully tidying the stacks while keeping an eye on the resource desk a few feet away. This was an experiment. Maybe she would put her fingers on a book and feel something—a tingle, a hint of heat.

Who knew?

But she worked her way through the mythology stacks without experiencing any tingles.

Undaunted, she wandered to the section of books on ancient civilizations. The past, she told herself. The Daughters of Glass had sprung from the ancients. Well, who hadn’t?

She worked diligently for a time, reordering books that had been misplaced. She knew better, really she did, than to actually open the volume on ancient Britain, but it was suddenly in her hand, and there was this section on stone circles that swept her onto windy moors at moonrise.

Druids and chanting, balefires and the hum that was the breath of gods.

“Oh, gee, Dana. I didn’t know you were off today.” With her teeth going to auto-grind, Dana shifted her gaze from the book in her hand to Sandi’s overly cheerful face. “I’m not off. I’m working the stacks.”

“Really?” The big blue eyes widened. Long golden lashes fluttered. “It looked Like you were reading. I thought maybe you were on your own time, doing more research. You’ve been doing a lot of research lately, haven’t you? Finally starting on your doctorate?”

With a bad-tempered little shove, Dana put the book back in place. Wouldn’t it be fun? she thought, to get the big silver scissors out of the drawer in her desk and whack off that detestable bouncing ponytail?

She’d just bet that would wipe that bright, toothy grin off Sandi’s face.

“You got the promotion, the pay raise, so what’s your problem, Sandi?”

“Problem? I don’t have a problem. We all know the policy about reading on the clock. So I’m sure it just looked like you were reading instead of manning the desk.”

“The desk is covered.” And when enough was enough, Dana thought, you finished it. “You spend a lot of your time worrying about what I’m doing, slinking around in the stacks behind me, eavesdropping when I’m speaking with a patron.”

Sandi’s perky smile turned into a perky sneer. “I certainly do not eavesdrop.”

“Bullshit,” Dana said in a quiet, pleasant tone that had Sandi’s dollbaby eyes going bright with shock. “You’ve been stepping on my heels for weeks. You got the promotion, I got the cut. But you’re not my supervisor, you’re not my boss. So you can kiss my ass.”

Though it wasn’t quite as rewarding as hacking off the ponytail might have been, it felt fabulous to just walk away, leaving Sandi sputtering.

She settled back at the desk and assisted two patrons with such good cheer and good fellowship that both left beaming. When she answered the phone, she all but sang out, “Pleasant Valley Library. Reference Desk. May I help you? Hey, Mr. Foy. You’re up, huh. Ah, uh-huh. Good one.” She chuckled as she scribbled down today’s trivia question. “It’ll take me a minute. I’ll call you back.”

She danced off to find the right book, flipped through it briefly in the stacks, then carried it back to the desk to make the return call.

“Got it.” She trailed down the page with her finger. “The Arctic tern migrates the farthest annually. Up to twenty thousand miles—wow—between the Arctic and Antarctic. Makes you wonder what’s in its birdy brain, doesn’t it?”

She shifted the phone as she caught sight of Sandi marching, like a damn drum majorette, toward the desk. “Nope, sorry, Mr. Foy, no complete set of American Tourister luggage for you today. The Arctic tern nips out the long-tailed jaeger by a couple thousand miles annually. Better luck next time. Talk to you tomorrow.”

She hung up, folded her hands, then lifted her eyebrows at Sandi. “Something I can do for you?”

“Joan wants to see you upstairs.” Thrusting her chin in the air, Sandi looked down her tiny, perfect nose. “Immediately.”

“Sure.” Dana tucked her hair behind her ear as she studied Sandi. “I bet you only had one friend in elementary school, and she was just as obnoxious as you are.” She slid off the stool.

Speaking of elementary school, Dana thought as she crossed the main floor, started up the stairs to administration, she herself felt as if she’d just gotten hauled into the principal’s office. A lowering sensation for a grown woman. And one, she decided, she was sick of experiencing.

Outside Joan’s door, Dana took a deep breath, squared her shoulders. She might feel like a guilty six-year-old, but she wasn’t going to look like one.

She knocked, briskly, then opened the door without waiting for a response. “You wanted to see me?”

At her desk, Joan leaned back. Her salt-and-pepper ban-was pulled into in a no-nonsense bun that, oddly enough, flattered her.

She wore a dark vest over a white blouse that was primly buttoned to her throat. The material hung flat, with barely a ripple to indicate there were breasts beneath it.

Rimless half-glasses dangled from a gold chain around her neck. Dana knew her shoes would be low-heeled and sturdy and as no-nonsense as the hairstyle.

She looked, Dana decided, scrawny and dull—and the very image of the cliché that kept children out of libraries in droves.

Since Joan’s mouth was already set in disapproval, Dana didn’t expect the meeting to be a cheerful one.

“Shut the door, please. It appears, Dana, that you continue to have difficulty adjusting to the new policies and protocol I’ve implemented here.”

“So, Sandi raced right up to tattle that I was actually reading a book. Of all the horrors to commit in a public library.”

“Your combative attitude is only one of the problems we have to deal with.”

“I’m not going to stand here and defend myself for skimming a couple pages of a book while I was working in the stacks. Part of my function is to be informed about books, not just to point the patrons toward an area and wish them Godspeed. I do my job, Joan, and my evaluations from the previous director were never less than exemplary.”

“I’m not the previous director.”

“Damn straight. Less than six weeks after you took over, you cut my, and two other long-term employees, hours and paychecks nearly in half. And your niece gets a promotion and a raise.”

“I was hired to pull this institution out of financial decline, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m not required to explain my administrative decisions to you.”

“No, you don’t have to. I get it. You don’t like me, I don’t like you. But I don’t have to like everyone I work with or for. I can still do my job.”

“It’s your job to follow the rules.” Joan flipped open a file. “Not to make and receive personal phone calls. Not to use library equipment for personal business. Not to spend twenty minutes gossiping with a patron while your duties are neglected.”

“Hold it.” Baffled rage spewed into her throat like a geyser. “Just hold it one minute. What’s she doing, making daily reports on me?”

Joan flipped the file shut. “You think too much of yourself.”

“Oh, I see. Not just on me. She’s your personal mole, burrowing around the place digging up infractions.”

Oh, yes, Dana thought, when enough was enough you definitely finished it. “Maybe the budget here has had its ups and downs, but this was always a friendly place, familial. Now it’s just a drag run by the gestapo commandant and her personal weasel. So I’ll do us both a favor. I quit.

I’ve got a week’s sick leave and a week’s vacation coming. We’ll just consider that my two weeks’ notice.“

“Very well. You can have your resignation on my desk by the end of your shift.”

“Screw that. This is my resignation.” She took a deep breath. “I’m smarter than you are, and I’m younger, stronger, and better-looking. The regular patrons know and like me— most of them don’t know you, and the ones who’ve gotten to know you don’t like you. Those are some of the reasons you’ve been on my ass since you took over. I’m out of here, Joan, but I’m walking out of my own accord. I lay odds that you’ll be on your way out before much longer, too—only you’ll be booted out by the board.”

“If you expect any sort of reference or referral—”

Dana stopped at the door. “Joan, Joan, do you want to end our relationship with me telling you what you can do with your reference?”

Her anger carried her straight down to the employee lounge, where she gathered her jacket and a handful of personal belongings. She didn’t stop to speak to any of her coworkers. If she didn’t get out, and get out fast, she feared she would either burst into hysterical sobs or punch her fist through the wall.

Either option would give Joan too much power.

So she walked out without a backward glance. And kept walking. She refused to let herself think that this was the last time she would make this trip from work to home.,It wasn’t the end of her life; it was just a corner turned.

When she felt the angry tears stinging her eyes, she dug out her sunglasses. She wasn’t about to humiliate herself by crying on the damn sidewalk.

But her breath was hitching by the time she reached her apartment door. She fumbled out her keys, stumbled inside, then simply sank down on the floor.

“Oh, God, oh, God, what have I done?”

She’d cut her ties. She had no job. And it would be weeks before she could reasonably open the bookstore. And why did she think she could run a bookstore? Knowing and loving books didn’t make her a merchant. She’d never worked in retail in her life, and suddenly she was going to run a retail business?

She’d thought she was prepared for the step. Now, faced with stark reality, Dana realized she wasn’t even close to prepared.

Panicked, she leaped up, all but fell onto the phone. “Zoe? Zoe… I just—I’ve got to… Christ. Can you meet me at the place, the house?”

“Okay. Dana, what’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

“I just—I quit my job. I think I’m having an anxiety attack. I need… Can you get the keys? Can you get Malory and meet me there?”

“All right, honey. Take a deep breath. Come on, suck one in. Breathe easy. That’s it. Twenty minutes. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thanks. Okay, thanks. Zoe—”

“You just keep breathing. Want me to swing by and get you?”

“No.” She rubbed the temper tears away. “No, I’ll meet you.”

“Twenty minutes,” Zoe repeated and rang off.

SHE was calmer, at least on the surface, when she pulled into the double drive in front of the pretty frame house she’d bought with her friends. In a matter of weeks, they’d be signing papers at settlement. Then they would begin, well, whatever it was that they were going to begin.

It was Zoe and Malory who had the big ideas as far as ambience, color schemes, paints, and posies. They’d already had their heads together over paint chips for the color of the porch, the entrance hall. And she knew Zoe had been scouring flea markets and yard sales for the trash that she miraculously turned into treasure.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have ideas herself. She did.

She could envision in general how her section of the main floor would look when it had been transformed into a little bookstore/cafe. Comfortable and cozy. Maybe some good sink-into-me chairs, a few tables.

But she couldn’t see the details. What should the chairs look like? What kind of tables should she use?

And there were dozens of other things she hadn’t considered when she’d jumped into that dream of having her own bookstore. Just as, she was forced to admit, there were things she hadn’t considered when she’d, basically, told Joan to stuff it.

Impulse, pride, and temper, she thought with a sigh. A dangerous combination. Now she was going to have to live with the results of surrendering to it.

She stepped but of the car. Her stomach was still jumpy, so she rubbed a hand over it as she studied the house.

It was a good place. It was important to remember that. She’d liked it the minute she’d stepped inside the door with Zoe. Even the downright terrifying experience they’d had inside it—courtesy of their nemesis, Kane—barely a week before, when Malory had found her key, didn’t spoil the feel of the place.

She’d never owned a house, or any other property. She should concentrate on the very adult sensation of owning a third of an actual building, and the land it stood on. She wasn’t afraid of the responsibility—it was good to know that. She wasn’t afraid of work, mental or physical.

But she was, she realized, very afraid of failing.

She walked to the porch, sat on the step, and indulged in a good wallow.

She was too mired in it to do more than sit there when Malory pulled up with Zoe in the passenger seat. Malory angled her head as she climbed out.

“Crappy day, huh?”

“Don’t come much crappier. Thanks for coming. Really.”

“We did better than that.” She gestured toward Zoe, and the white bakery box Zoe carried.

Overcome, Dana sniffed. “Is it chocolate?”

“We’re girls, aren’t we?” Sitting beside her, Zoe gave her a hard, one-armed hug, then opened the box. “Chocolate. A big fat one for each of us.”

This time, it was sentimental tears threatening to fall. “You guys are the best.”

“Take a few bites, wait for the kick, then tell us about it.“ Malory sat on the other side, handed out napkins.

Dana soothed herself with chocolate, pastry, and cream, and-the story tumbled out between bites.

“She wanted me to quit.” Scowling, she flicked her tongue at the corner of her mouth and licked off a bit of Bavarian cream. “It was some visceral animosity going on between us the minute we laid eyes on each other. Like, I dunno, maybe we were mortal enemies in a past life. Or, Jesus, married or something. It’s not just that she ran the library like it was boot camp—that’s bad enough—but she had it in for me, personally. And so did her little yappy dog, Sandi.”

“I know it’s tough, Dana. Boy, do I.” Malory rubbed a sympathetic hand over Dana’s shoulder. “But you were planning to resign in a few weeks anyway.”

“I know, I know. But I wanted to sort of ease out. Cop the little going-away party with the staff, so it all ended on a high note. And the fact is, even with the pay cut, the salary did come in handy. More than. I could’ve used the extra paychecks before I walked.”

“Telling her to cram it should be worth the paychecks. She’s a bitch and we hate her,” Zoe said loyally. “And when Indulgence is up and running, and the bookstore’s the talk of the Valley, she’ll stew in her own envious juices.”

Considering, Dana pursed her lips. “That’s a good one. I just panicked, I guess. I’ve always worked in a library. High school library, college library, then this one. And it suddenly hit me that that’s done, and I’m going to be the owner of a retail business.”

She rubbed her damp hands on her knees. “I don’t even know how to work a cash register.”

“I’ll teach you,” Zoe promised. “We’re in this together.”

“I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want to mess up the key deal either. It’s just that all this hit me at once.”

Malory offered Dana the last third of her 6clair. “Have a little more sugar. Then we’ll go in and start making some serious plans.”

“I’ve got two hours before I have to be home,” Zoe told her. “When we picked up the keys, I asked the real estate agent. She said we could start on some of the basic cosmetic work if we want to risk the time and money. We could paint the porch, say, unless we’re worried the deal won’t go through.”

Dana polished off the. “Okay. Okay,” she said with more enthusiasm. “Let’s go in and look at paint chips.”

AFTER some debate, they settled on a deep ocean blue. The color, they agreed, would make the house stand out among its neighbors and would add a touch of class.

Since they were in the mode, they headed back to the kitchen to talk about decor and space.

“Nothing too country,” Zoe decided as she tapped her fingers on her hips. “We want it comfortable and homey, but, well, indulgent, right? So it shouldn’t be sleek or anything, but it shouldn’t be homespun either.”

“Your upscale country kitchen.” Nodding, Malory turned in a circle, trying to envision it. “Maybe that minty green for the walls. Nice, friendly color. A creamy white for the cabinets. Dana, you’ll be using this space the most.”

“That’s okay, keep going.” She waved them on. “You guys are better at this than I am.”

“Well, what if we had the counters done in rose? Not pink, but stronger, then we punch things up with art. That would flow in from the gallery section. Then we’d set up some of the sidelines Zoe’s talked about having up in the salon. The aromatherapy products, candles. And we do something like Dana’s got in the kitchen in her apartment.”

“We fill it with junk food?”

Malory glanced at Dana and laughed. “No. Books. We do like a baker’s rack or kitchen over there, and we put out books and some of the craft pieces from my gallery, some of the products from the salon. Fancy hand creams and soaps. It unifies this communal space.”

“That’s good.” Dana let out a breath. “It’s starting to feel good again.”

“It’s going to be great.” Zoe slid an arm around Dana’s waist. “You could have those tins and stuff of fancy teas and coffees on the counter.”

“Maybe we could put in a table,” Dana considered. “One of those little round ones, with a couple of chairs. Okay. Let’s write down the paints we’ve got so far, see if we can decide on any others. I’ll head out to HomeMakers and pick it all up.”

“I think paint’s going on sale next week,” Zoe put in.

“Oh, yeah?” Dana’s dimples flashed. “Well, I happen to have an in at HomeMakers. I’ll call Brad and get us a discount today.”

IT helped to have a focus, a goal. Even if it was only several gallons of paint.

If, Dana thought, the library and her life there were now her past, weren’t Indulgence and the building of it her present? As far as the future went, how the hell was she sup-posed to know? But she intended to think about it and try to find a connection to the location of the key.

It hadn’t been difficult to wheedle a thirty percent discount out of Brad. As Dana wandered the wide aisles of the cavernous HomeMakers, she considered what else she might be able to pick up while she had her old friend’s go-ahead.

Paintbrushes, of course, and rollers. Or maybe they should try out one of those paint sprayers. She studied one, crouching down to ponder the workings of it.

How hard could it be? And it would certainly be faster and less labor-intensive than slopping it on the old-fashioned way.

“Unless you’re thinking about becoming a house painter, that one’s a little much for you.”

Jordan Hawke, she thought as a muscle in her jaw twitched. And she’d thought the day couldn’t get any crap-pier. “So, Brad took pity on you and gave you a job?” she said without looking up. “Are you going to get to wear one of the blue denim shirts with the little house on the breast pocket?”

“I was in his office when you called kissing up to him for a price break. He asked me to come down and give you a hand because he got caught by a phone call before he could come himself.”

Her hackles rose. “I don’t need help to buy paint.”

“You do if you’re seriously considering buying that sprayer.”

“I was just looking.” Her mouth moved into a pout as she poked a finger at the machine. “Besides, what do you know about it?”

“Enough to know if I say too much more about it, you’ll buy it just to spite me.”

“That’s tempting, but I’ll resist,” she shot back.

He reached down, cupped a hand under her elbow to lift her to her feet. “Seems like you’ve had enough to deal with for one day. Heard you quit your job.”

There was sympathy in his eyes. Not the smug and sticky kind, but a quiet understanding that soothed. “What, does Sandi report to you too?”

“Sorry, that name’s not on my list.” He gave her arm a careless little rub, an old gesture that both of them remembered as soon as he did it. And both of them took a half-step back. “Word travels, Stretch. You know how it is in the Valley.”

“Yeah, I know how it is. I’m surprised you remember.”

“I remember a lot of things. One of them is how much you loved working there.”

“I don’t want you to be nice to me.” She turned away to stare hard at the paint sprayer. “It’s screwing up my mood.”

Because he knew she would work through it better if she was angry or occupied, he nodded. “Okay. Why don’t I help you take advantage of your friend-of-the-owner discount? It’s always fun to scalp Brad. Then you can verbally abuse me. That always cheers you up.”

“Yeah, it does.” She frowned a little, bumped the sprayer with the toe of her shoe. “This thing doesn’t look so tough.”

“Let me show you some of your other options.”

“Why aren’t you back at Flynn’s hacking out a stale plot with cardboard characters?”

“There, see, you’re feeling better already.“

“Have to admit.”

“What we have here is an automatic paint roller system,” he began, steering her toward the machine Brad had recommended to him. “It’s small, user-friendly, and efficient.”

“How do you know?”

“Because when Brad told me to show you this one he used those specific adjectives. Personally, I’ve only painted a room the old-fashioned way, and that’s been…” He trailed off. “A long time ago.”

She remembered. He’d painted his mother’s bedroom when she was in the hospital the first time. Dana had helped him, cutting around the trim, keeping his spirits up.

They’d painted the walls a soft, warm blue so that the room would be fresh and peaceful.

And less than three months later she was dead.

“She loved it,” Dana said gently. “She loved that you did that for her.”

“Yeah.” As the memory was painful on too many levels, he flipped the topic back. “Well, Brad’s got a list here of handy products and tools to make your home improvement project more enjoyable.”

“Okay, let’s clean him out.”

She had to admit that it added to the fun and interest of the expedition to have him along. And it was easy, a little too easy, to remember why they’d once been friends, once been lovers.

They had a way of slipping into a rhythm, of understanding short-speak and expressions that came from a lifetime of knowing each other every bit as much as from the two years of physical intimacy they’d shared.

“This is the color?” Jordan rubbed his chin as he studied her list. “Island? What kind of color is Island?”

“Greeny blue. Sort of.” She handed over the paint chip. “See? What’s wrong with it?”

“I didn’t say anything was wrong with it. It’s just not something that makes me think bookstore.”

“It’s not just a bookstore, it’s… Damn it.” She held the sample up, she held it down. She crossed her eyes and still couldn’t envision it on the walls of her space. “Malory picked it out. I was going to go with this off-white, and she and Zoe jumped all over me.”

“White always works.”

She hissed out a breath. “See, they said I was thinking like a man. Men won’t pick color. They’re scared of color.”

“We are not.”

“What color’s your living room in New York?”

He shot her a bland look. “That’s entirely beside the point.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know why, but I don’t think so. I’m going with this sort of greeny blue. It’s just paint. It’s not a lifetime commitment. And she said I should think Bryce Canyon and Spaghetti for accents.”

“Brown and yellow? Honey, that’s got tol)e ugly.”

“No, the canyon deal’s sort of deep rose. A kind of pinky, browny red—”

“Pinky, browny red,” he repeated, grinning. “Very descriptive.”

“Shut up. And the other’s sort of cream.” She fanned out the samples Zoe and Malory had marked. “Hell, I don’t know. I think I’m a little scared of color myself.”

“You’re sure as hell not a man.”

“Thank God for that. Mal’s going with this deal called Honeycomb. Zoe’s is called Begonia, which I don’t get because begonias are pink or white, and this is more like purple.”

She pressed her fingers just over her right eye. “I think all this color’s making my head hurt. Anyway, Zoe’s already figured the square footage and the gallons per. Where’s my list?”

He handed it back to her. “Brad was wondering why Zoe didn’t come with you.”

“Hmm? Oh, she had to get home to Simon.” She studied the list, began to calculate, then glanced up. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why was he wondering?”

“Why do you think?” He looked over her shoulder at the list, surprised when she turned it over and he saw that it continued on the back of the sheet.

“Jesus, you’re going to need a flatbed. Then Brad took a trip back to high school and asked me to ask you if Zoe had said anything about him.”

“No, she didn’t, but I’d be happy to pass her a note for him in study hall tomorrow.”

“I’ll let him know.”

They loaded up the paint, the supplies, the equipment. Dana blessed Brad at checkout when even with the discount the total made her gulp. But it wasn’t until she was outside that she realized the real dilemma.

“How the hell am I going to fit all this in my car?”

“You’re not. We’re going to fit it into your car and mine.”

“Why didn’t you say something about me buying more than I could handle when I was loading up in there?”

“Because you were having fun. Where do you want to store all this stuff?”

“Jeez.” Baffled with herself, she scooped a hand through her hair. “I didn’t think about it. I got caught up.”

And, he thought, it had been a pleasure to watch her get caught up—and forget she hated him.

“I can’t store all this at my place, and I didn’t think to see if we could keep the keys and store it at the building. What the hell am I going to do with it?”

“Flynn’s got plenty of room at his place.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Yeah, he does. I guess that’s the way it’ll have to be. He can’t get pissed, because Malory will just bat her eyelashes and turn him into putty.”

They divvied up, loaded up. The drive back to Flynn’s gave her time to wonder how they’d managed to be in each other’s company for the best part of an hour without a fight.

He hadn’t been a jerk, which, she decided, was a rare thing.

And, she was forced to admit, she hadn’t been one either. Equally rare when Jordan was involved.

Maybe, just maybe, they could manage to coexist, even cooperate, for the short term. If, as everyone else insisted, he was part of the quest, she needed him around.

Added to that, he had a good brain and a fluid imagination. He could be more than an annoyance through this. He could be an actual asset.

When they arrived at Flynn’s, she had to concede that it helped to have a man around who was willing to play pack mule with a dozen gallons of paint and the supplies that went with it.

“Dining room,” she said, straining a little under the load she carried. “He never uses it.”

“He’s going to.” Jordan wound his way through the house, veered off into the dining room. “Malory has major plans.”

“She always does. She makes him happy.“

“No question about that.” He headed back out for the next load. “Lily put some serious holes in his ego,” he added, referring to Flynn’s ex-fiancee.

“It wasn’t just his ego.” She pulled out a bag loaded with extra paint rollers, brushes, shiny metal pans. “She hurt him. When somebody dumps you and runs off, it hurts.”

“Best thing that could’ve happened to him.”

“That isn’t the issue.” She could feel the resentment, the hurt, the anger starting to brew in her belly. Struggling to ignore it, she hauled out more cans. “The issue is pain, betrayal, and loss.”

He said nothing as they carried the rest of the supplies to the dining room. Nothing until they set them down, and he turned to face her. “I didn’t dump you.”

She could actually feel the hair on the back of her neck rise. “Not every statement I make involves you.”

“I had to go,” he continued. “You had to stay. You were still in college, for Christ’s sake.”

“That didn’t stop you from getting me into bed.”

“No, it didn’t. Nothing could have. I had a hunger for you, Dana. There were times I felt like I’d starve to death if I couldn’t get a bite of you.”

She stepped back, gave him an up-and-down study. “Looks like you’ve been eating well enough the last few years.”

“Doesn’t mean I stopped thinking about you. You meant something to me.”

“Oh, go to hell.” It didn’t explode out of her, but was said flatly, which gave it more power. “Meant something to you? A goddamn pair of shoes can mean something to you. I loved you.”

If she’d delivered a bare-knuckled punch to his face, he’d have been no less shocked. “You… you never said that. You never once said the L word to me.”

“Because you were supposed to say it first. The guy’s supposed to say it first.”

“Hold on just a minute. Is that a rule?” Panic was trickling down the back of his throat like acid. “Where’s it written down?”

“It just is, you stupid jerk. I loved you, and I’d have waited, or I’d’ve gone with you. But you just said, Listen, Stretch, I’m pulling up stakes and going to New York. It’s been fun, see you around.”

“That’s not true, Dana. It wasn’t like that.”

“Close enough. Nobody’s ever hurt me like that. You’ll never get the chance to do it again—and you know what, Hawke? I’d’ve made a man out of you.”

She turned on her heel and walked out.