Dani really liked the restaurant. She liked the staff and Valerie and Martina. She liked the location, the ambience and how no one seemed terrorized.

“Go on and sit,” Martina said. “I’ll have Gerald bring out the first course. I did up a little tasting menu for the two of you.”

“Wonderful,” Valerie said. “Thanks, hon.”

Valerie led the way to a small table by the window. In winter the view of the garden was impressive. Dani could only imagine what it would be like in summer.

“I hope things work out with you,” Valerie said as they took a seat. “But even if they do, I’m tempted to pretend to interview a couple more people just to have Martina keep making her tasting menu. It’s delicious. The best of what she does. We’re starting with a vegetable quesadilla with a few spicy surprises and a leek soup you’ll die for.”

Gerald, a good-looking guy in his early twenties, appeared with a tray and a pitcher of iced tea.

“House blend,” Valerie said as he poured.

He then served small cups of soup and set a plate of steaming tortilla wedges between them.

Dani sipped the tea, then stared at her glass. She wasn’t a huge tea drinker, but she certainly enjoyed a glass of it from time to time. But this one tasted odd. Like it had been steeped in celery juice or cucumber water. It wasn’t a great combination.

She then tasted a spoonful of the soup. Leeks were fairly innocuous, so she wasn’t expecting much. Certainly not the sharp tang of licorice.

“Anise?” she asked after she’d forced herself to swallow the unpleasant liquid.

“Fennel mostly. A few other herbs that bring out the distinctive flavor. The stock is a cauliflower base we make up fresh every day. Guests beg us for the recipe or to at least sell the stock to them, but Martina keeps it all a secret.”

Dani nodded and smiled, but on the inside, she felt the first hint of worry. She loved Valerie and her restaurant. It had never occurred to her that she could find the exact place she wanted to work and be unable to eat the food.

Things would get better, she told herself. They had to.

But they didn’t. The vegetable quesadilla was more awful than the soup, which turned out to be the highlight of the meal.

Part of working in a restaurant at the manager level was the need to be enthused about everything served. Not only would Dani be eating it herself every day she worked, she would also have to talk about it with guests and make recommendations. How could she do that if she couldn’t even choke down one meal?

“Isn’t this incredible?” Valerie asked as she scooped up a forkful of a lentil casserole with an unfortunate spice combination that tasted and smelled like bad tuna.

“Martina is innovative,” Dani said.

This was so unfair, she thought bitterly. The restaurant was her dream job. Why couldn’t Valerie have a passion for steaks or Thai food or anything else? Something she, Dani, could enjoy, or at least tolerate. And how could she tell Valerie the truth?

She was saved from having to come up with a polite version of “yuck” when Valerie got an urgent call from her root vegetable vendor. She promised to be in touch with Dani shortly.

As Dani walked to her car, she glanced back at the beautiful old house. If Valerie called with an offer, she would have to figure out a polite way to tell her no. Then she would have to keep looking.

Her dream job was out there…it had to be. She would keep looking until she found it, no matter how long that took.

LORI HOVERED by the stairs for most of the afternoon, wanting to see Reid, but in a casual way. The most sensible plan was to simply go up to his rooms, knock on the door and talk to him. It was the mature thing to do. The problem was, she wasn’t feeling especially mature these days.

She’d been lurking for so long that she was startled when he finally appeared and she didn’t know what to say.

She stood at the foot of the stairs for his whole journey down and still couldn’t come up with a way to say what she needed to.

“I was scared,” she said at last, which without an explanation probably didn’t make much sense.

Reid stood in front of her and waited.

“I don’t want to do this,” she continued. “I don’t want to try. I don’t want to risk the pain.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

She tried to read his expression and couldn’t. What was he thinking? Did they have enough of a relationship for there to be a breakup?”

“It’s too hard,” she admitted. “I’d done all this stuff and sure, some of it was me, but it was mostly for you and what if you didn’t notice or didn’t care? What if I’m yet another in a long line of one-night stands? Does any of this matter to you? Am I getting involved with someone who has no plans to be involved with me? I’ve never gone out with a guy like you. I don’t know the rules. I’ve been warned to protect myself from you and while I appreciate the information I want to know why no one is warning you. Maybe I’ll break your heart.”

“Maybe you will,” he said.

“I’m not saying I want to,” she clarified.

“Yes, you do.”

Did he really think that? “No. I just want to be equals in this. I want to be more than a supplicant at the altar of Reid.”

“I have an altar?”

“You know what I mean.” She shrugged. “That was all.” She turned to leave.

He grabbed her arm and held her in place. Then he moved close, put his hands on her waist and drew her against him.

“Why do you doubt yourself?” he asked. “You look great. You looked great before. If you’re happy with what you did, then I’m happy. You don’t have to change to get me interested.” He smiled, but continued to stare into her eyes. “I think I’ve already proved that. Several times over.”

She appreciated the reassurance and refused to let herself point out that there hadn’t been a repeat performance of that single, amazing night. She stepped back.

“I’m not looking for a one-night stand,” he continued. “As for you hurting me, of course it could happen, Lori. I have as much on the line as you do. You’re right—we’re not equals. You have the advantage.”

“Oh, please.” Who was he kidding?

“You don’t trust me,” he said. “Why?”

“Because…Because you’re Reid Buchanan and I don’t know how to be in a relationship. Because I’m afraid. Because this is hard.”

“So you run?”

“It seems a good plan.”

“Maybe you could find another one.”

She stared at him, not sure what to say. Did she want to stay? Not because he asked or because Madeline said it was a good idea, but for herself?

“I’m not running,” he said. “You think that doesn’t terrify me?”

“You’re trapped here.”

He touched her face. “You’re wrong. There are a thousand places I could be. I’m here. With you.”

She liked how that sounded. In the past, she’d always avoided making the effort. Maybe it was time to change that.

“I’ll stay,” she whispered.

“I’m glad.”

DR. GRAYSON WAS a friendly woman who listened as Lori told her sad tale of being unable to wear contacts.

“How long has it been since you tried?” the doctor asked. “The new soft lenses are mostly water and many of my patients don’t feel them at all.”

“It’s been about five years,” Lori said. “Maybe longer.”

“Do you want to try a pair now?”

Lori really didn’t but somehow her makeover seemed incomplete. Besides, as spineless as it made her, her recent encounter with Reid had inspired her to go to the next level, or at least talk about it.

Dr. Grayson pulled out a plastic container of contacts. “You’re a perfect candidate for Lasik,” she said. “If that interests you.”

Lori was too caught up in watching the doctor put liquid onto a seemingly innocent piece of flexible plastic to do more than murmur, “I’m not wild about the idea.”

She swallowed hard, then tried to relax as the contact got closer and closer to her eye. When it was nearly touching, she flinched.

Dr. Grayson chuckled. “This goes better if you leave your eye open. Do you want to try putting it in yourself?”

“Not even for money.”

“Okay. Deep breath. Here we go.”

The contact slipped onto her eye. Lori could instantly see better out of that one eye, which was kind of nice. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe she’d overreacted to the whole contact lenses issue. Then she blinked.

It was like having a boulder in her eye. Pain shot through to the back of head and tears poured down her cheek.

“Get it out, get it out,” she said quickly.

“Okay. Look up. Keep your eye open.”

Then it was gone. Dr. Grayson handed her a tissue. “So maybe contacts aren’t for you.”

“Maybe not.”

“There are a lot of great styles in glasses.”

Lori blinked several times to clear the tears, then looked down at her glasses. Maybe it was time to admit defeat.

Five minutes later she walked out into the waiting room. Madeline stood up.

“You’re not wearing contacts.”

“I’m not a good candidate.”

“Oh. Okay. Now what?”

Lori pulled the appointment card out of her back pocket and tried not to hyperventilate.

“Now I get my corneas burned off by a stupid laser.”

A TRUTH OF BASEBALL IS that the pitcher is going to get hit by a few balls. Either throws that go wild or an unexpected low hit that flies right down the middle. Reid had taken his share of knocks and he remembered how each one hurt like hell. The ones that hit him in the gut had pushed the air out of his lungs.

He felt like that now—as if he’d been sucker punched. He wondered if he would ever catch his breath again. Sure he’d done the right thing, but damn.

He walked into the kitchen and saw Lori making Gloria’s lunch. She turned, smiled, then put down the knife she’d been using and hurried over to him.

“What’s wrong? Do you feel okay? Are you sick?”

“I’m good.”

“You look awful.” She touched his forehead. “You don’t have a temperature, but you’re a little pale.”

“I’m fine. Just getting used to the fact that I gave away one hundred and twenty-five million dollars.”

Her eyes widened. “You did what?”

“Gave it away. I’m starting a foundation. Its mission is to help get kids involved with sports. We’ll give away equipment, build play fields, send kids to camp, that sort of thing. At least that’s what we’re working out right now. The details.”

Lori touched his arm. “Impressive. That’s a lot of money.”

“I’m just getting that.”

She smiled. “So are you poor now? Do you have to get a job?”

“I’m trying to do the right thing, but I’m not crazy. I have money left. Besides, I have a job. I’ve quit the sports bar and now I’ll be working at the foundation.”

“Running it?”

“No. I’m hiring experts for that. I’m going to be the front man. I was talking to Cal about it. I want to do something. Those letters…” He shook his head. “They haunt me.”

She squeezed his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my picture and fake signature that got sent to those kids. When I think of how disappointed they must have been…” He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I don’t want it to happen again,” he said firmly. “I’m going to make sure I get it right. I’m a celebrity of sorts. I can use that. I’ll go out there and meet people. I’ll get other donations, bring focus to important causes. Who knows—maybe I can even make a difference.”

Even saying the words felt uncomfortable. While he’d tried to be a decent guy, he’d really only ever cared about himself and his family. Taking on the world’s troubles seemed daunting. So he would start small. One problem at a time.

“You’ll be great,” she said. “Maybe this was your destiny all along. Maybe you were supposed to end up here, doing this kind of work.”

He wasn’t a big believer in destiny, but maybe she was right. But if all this was his destiny, what did that make her?

He stared into Lori’s eyes, liking the way the colors swirled together. She was so beautiful, he thought. Beautiful and bossy and sexy as hell.

He dropped his gaze to her mouth and thought about kissing her. Kissing Lori was a great way to spend a day. Of course there was the issue of Gloria, and Lori being in the middle of preparing lunch, but…

He stared more intently. Something was different. Something was…

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he said.

She nodded, her mouth pulling into a slight smile. “I know.”

“Contacts?”

“We’re not compatible.”

“Then?”

“Lasik surgery.”

He winced. “I thought you were never going to do that.”

“I changed my mind. It wasn’t bad at all. They gave me a tranquilizer and I let them burn away. The whole thing took about fifteen minutes. There isn’t any downtime at all. Madeline even watched.”

He grimaced. “Eye surgery? No, thanks. When did you have this done?”