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foreign environment. Libby wondered what it would be like to be so relaxed. To be so comfortable in her own skin.

Reagan’s husky voice knocked Libby out of her thoughts.

“You know you really didn’t have to go out of your way to come get me. Vizcaya can’t be more than fifteen minutes from your o ce. I could’ve just met you there.”

Libby couldn’t pretend she was just in the neighborhood when she’d driven ten miles northwest just to return to where she’d started. “That’s not the point,” she decided.

“You’re doing me the favor of accompanying me. The least I can do is pick you up.”

“I guess having a little time to get to know each other isn’t a bad idea since we’re supposed to be helplessly in love.

/> My friends have been giving me a little grief about not having met you in all these months we’ve been dating.”

Libby winced. She didn’t like making a liar out of either of them. “I’m sorry-”

“Stop,” Reagan interrupted, her warm hand on Libby’s exposed forearm. “I chose to do this with you. Okay? We just have to get to know each other and it’ll be fine.”

Looking into her dark eyes, made that much more striking by the dark eyeshadow and nude lipstick, Libby’s anxiety eased. Her soft gaze was like hot chamomile tea warming and soothing her from the inside out.

“Stop!” Reagan shouted, forcing Libby’s attention back to the road. In the instant she’d been distracted, all tra c had stopped on the eight-lane highway.

“Shit!” Slamming both feet on the brake while she gripped the steering wheel, Libby stopped the SUV just before it landed in the bed of the truck in front of her.

“You okay?” Reagan asked, her warm hand on Libby’s exposed shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I—”

“No worries,” she interrupted with a reassuring smile.

“Miami tra c is a thousand percent not your fault.”

Libby peered around the tra c stopped in front of her.

The line of vehicles parked on the highway disappeared beyond the horizon. Squinting, she made out firetrucks blocking tra c in the distance. “This looks bad. I think they closed the road. And we’re stuck between exits,” she added, glancing back at the sea of metal forming behind them.

Reagan groaned with her hand on her stomach. “Damn, I shouldn’t have skipped lunch. But it was either a burger or this.” She grinned as she gestured at the makeup on her face.

“Then I guess it’s lucky for you I’m better prepared than a Boy Scout,” she replied, opening the glovebox and taking in the clean scent of Reagan’s perfume as she leaned across her body.

“Damn! You’re not kidding! Look at all this. It’s like a little convenience store. Granola bars, nuts, dried fruit, pretzels. Do you have a soda machine in the back somewhere?” Reagan joked, pulling two bars from the back and handing one to Libby as she put the car in park.

“No soda, but I’ve got room temp water,” she replied, reaching back for one of the glass containers she hadn’t had a chance to drop o at the o ce.

“Now, I’m not going to judge you, but do you live in your car?” Reagan asked, unfastening her seatbelt and turning in her chair to face Libby.

Libby chuckled. “I get stuck in the o ce late more than I’d like.”

“Isn’t the whole point of being the boss getting to leave whenever you want?” Reagan asked, her mouth full of oats and dried cherries.

“You’d think so.” Libby reached for a small pack of almonds. “But carrying the Cassanova name is a ‘round the clock job.”

“Is that what led to Splitsville with the ex?” she asked as if getting to the good part of a movie.

Libby took a deep breath. “It’s a loaded question. Is there ever really just one reason?”

“An equivocation. There’s a lot to this story, huh? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can talk about it,” Libby decided. “To be honest, I hid from the breakup for so long, I think the wound healed over without me noticing. I was kidding myself to think I could juggle both, though. This job and a love life.” She shook her head. “I don’t have time to focus on both.” It was sort of true.