Hacker Series Box Set Books 1-5

by Meredith Wild

Genres: Sagas; Women's Fiction; Billionaires Romance; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Suspense; Workplace Romance

Synopsis

Devour all five books in the addictive #1 New York Times bestselling series that's sold over a million copies worldwide, perfect "for those who love Fifty Shades." (Heroes and Heartbreakers) Hardwired Erica Hathaway has had to work hard her whole life-first when she lost her parents and then to prove herself in the male-dominated tech world. The only thing she didn't prepare for was billionaire and rumored hacker Blake Landon. He's sexy, intimidating, and determined to win her over. But when Blake uncovers a dark secret from Erica's past, even he may not be able to protect her. Hardpressed Erica has broken down the walls that kept her from opening her heart and her business to Blake, and she's determined not to let anything come between them. But when demons from her past threaten their future, Erica makes a decision that could change their lives forever. Hardline Erica has given Blake her trust and her love, and he has no intention of letting her out of his life again. But when he tests the boundaries of her commitment, she is forced to face the dark desires he's kept hidden. As their bonds grow stronger, their enemies are closing in. With Erica's company in danger, Blake must protect her from those who would ruin her only to get to him. Hard Limit When life has torn them apart, Blake and Erica have always found their way back to each other, deeper in love and stronger than ever. But on the verge of making the ultimate commitment, Erica uncovers an unsettling chapter of Blake's history. As danger lurks and dark secrets come to light, will the past destroy their promise of forever? Hard Love Just when Blake and Erica think their troubles are safely behind them, Blake finds himself at the center of a massive scandal, haunted by the transgressions of his hacker past. But when he defies the authorities and refuses to seek the truth, will he let his past win? Or can Erica convince him that their life together is worth fighting for-now more than ever?

Release date: April 5, 2019

Publisher: Forever

Print pages: 1075

Sample

“What a perfect day,” I said.

Winter had thawed in Boston and spring was upon us. The campus had come alive, buzzing with college students, tourists, and city natives.

Many still wore their graduation gowns from this afternoon’s ceremony, the entirety of which I was still processing. Everything felt surreal, from saying bittersweet goodbyes to friends to the anticipation of facing real world problems in the days ahead. A blur of emotions whirled through me. Pride, relief, anxiety. But what I felt most was happiness. To be in this moment. To have Marie by my side.

“It is, and no one deserves it more than you, Erica.” Marie Martelly, my mother’s best friend and my own personal lifesaver, gave my hand a little squeeze and hooked her arm into mine.

Tall and slender, Marie towered over my petite frame. Her soft skin was the color of cocoa and her brown hair was twisted into dozens of short dreads, a style that expressed both her eternal youth and eclectic style. From the outside, no one would suspect that she was the only mother I’d had for nearly a decade.

I told myself over the years that not having parents was sometimes better than having the kinds of parents I heard about and occasionally met. My classmates’ parents could be so overbearing. Physically there but emotionally absent, or old enough to be my grandparents and suffering from a serious generational gap. Excelling seemed vastly easier when I was the only person putting pressure on myself to succeed.

Marie was different. Over the years, she had always offered the perfect measure of support. She listened to my friend drama and my moaning about work and finals, but she never pushed me. She knew how hard I already pushed myself.

We walked down the tiny paths that wove through the Harvard campus. A soft breeze blew through the full leafy trees, rustling quietly above us.

“Thank you for being there for me today,” I said.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Erica! I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You know that.” She smiled down at me and winked. “Plus I always enjoy a little trip down memory lane. I can’t remember the last time I was on campus. Makes me feel young again!”

I laughed at her enthusiasm. Only someone like Marie could visit her alma mater and feel younger, as if no time had passed.

“You’re still young, Marie.”

“Oh, I suppose. Life moves too fast though. You’ll figure that out, soon enough.” She sighed softly. “You ready to celebrate?”

I nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

We stepped outside the campus gates and hailed a cab that took us over the Charles River into Boston. A few minutes later we pushed through the heavy wooden doors of one of the best steakhouses in the city. Compared to the sunny streets, the restaurant was dark and cool, and a noticeable air of refinement floated over the quiet murmur of the evening’s patrons.

We settled down with our menus and ordered dinner and drinks. The waiter promptly delivered two glasses of sixteen-year Scotch, on the rocks, a taste for which I had acquired from more than a few complementary dinners with Marie. After weeks of overdosing on coffee and late night take out, nothing said congratulations like a cool glass of Scotch and a steak dinner.

I traced lines into the sweat on my glass, wondering what today might have looked like if my mother was still alive. Maybe I’d still be at home in Chicago, living an entirely different life.

“What’s on your mind, baby girl?” Marie’s voice broke me from my thoughts.

“Nothing. I just wish Mom could have been here,” I said quietly.

Marie took my hand in hers from across the table. “We both know Patricia would have been so proud of you today. Beyond words.”

No one had known my mother better than Marie. Though distance had separated them for years after school, they remained close—all the way to the bitter end.

I avoided her eyes, unwilling to let myself succumb to the emotions that tended to rush over me like a goddamn flood every Hallmark holiday. I wouldn’t cry today. Today was a happy day, no matter what. One I would never forget.

Marie released me and held up her glass, her eyes brightening. “How about a toast, to the next chapter?”

I raised my glass with hers and smiled through the sadness, letting relief and gratitude fill the empty place in my heart.

“Cheers.” I tipped my glass to Marie’s and took a healthy swallow, savoring the burn of the liquor on its way down.

“Speaking of, what’s next for you, Erica?”

I let my thoughts drift back to my life and the real pressures I was still under. “Well, this week is the big pitch at Angelcom, and then at some point I need to figure out where to live.”

“You can always stay with me for a while.”

“I know, but I need to get set up on my own for once. I’m looking forward to it actually.”

“Any ideas?”

“Not really, but I need a break from Cambridge.” Harvard had been great, but academia and I needed to start seeing other people. I had spent the past year seriously overachieving, juggling a thesis, starting a new business, and managing the usual senior burnout moments. I was eager to start the next chapter of my life well away from campus.

“Not that I would ever want you to leave, but are you sure you want to stay in Boston?”

I nodded. “I’m sure. The business might take me to New York or California at some point, but for now I’m happy here.”

Boston was a hard city sometimes. The winters were hell, but the people here were strong, passionate, and often painfully direct. Over time, I’d become one of them. I couldn’t imagine calling anyplace else home on a whim. Plus, without parents to go home to, this had become my home.

“Do you ever think of going back to Chicago?”

“No.” I chewed my salad in silence for a moment, trying not to think about all the people who might have been here for me today. “There’s no one back home for me anymore. Elliot remarried and has kids now. And Mom’s family has always been… you know, distant.”

Ever since my mother had come home from college twenty-one years ago, newly pregnant with no plans to marry, her relationship with her parents had been strained, to say the least. Even as a child, what few memories I shared with my grandparents had felt uncomfortable and colored by how I had come into their lives. Mom never spoke of my father, but if the circumstances were upsetting enough for her to keep silent about them, I was probably better off not knowing. At least that’s what I told myself when curiosity started to get the best of me.

The sadness in Marie’s sympathetic eyes reflected my own. “Do you ever hear from Elliot?”

“Mostly around the holidays. He has his hands full with the two little ones now.”

Elliot was the only father I had ever known. He’d married my mother when I was a toddler, and we shared many happy years together as a family. But no more than a year after my mother had passed, he became overwhelmed with the prospect of raising a teenager alone and enrolled me in boarding school out east with my inheritance.

“You miss him,” she said quietly, as if reading my thoughts.

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “We never had a chance to be a family without her.” I remembered how lost and out of step we became when she died. Now we were bound to each other only through the memory of her love, a memory that faded a little more with each passing year.

“He meant well, Erica.”

“I know he did. I don’t blame him. We’re both happy, so that’s all that matters now.” With a degree and a new business under my belt, I had no regrets about Elliot’s choice. Ultimately it placed me on the path that had led me to where I was today, but nothing could change the fact that we’d grown further apart over the years.

“Enough about that, then. Let’s talk about your love life.” Marie shot me a warm smile, her beautiful almond eyes glittering in the dim light of the restaurant.

I laughed, knowing she would want every detail if I had anything at all to divulge. “Nothing new to report, sadly. How about we talk about yours instead?” I knew she would take the bait.

Her eyes lit up and she gushed about her newest love interest. Richard was a jet-setting journalist nearly a decade her junior, which was no surprise to me. Not only was she in great shape for her age, Marie was incredibly young at heart. I often had to remind myself that she was my mother’s age.

While she reminisced, I enjoyed a short love affair with my food. Perfectly prepared and dripping with a red wine reduction, the bone-in filet nearly melted in my mouth. Deeply satisfying, the meal almost made up for the past several months of sexual deprivation. If it didn’t, the plate of chocolate covered strawberries we finished our dinner with definitely did.

College had provided me with regular opportunities for short-term flings, but unlike Marie, I was never really looking for love. And now that I had a business to keep up with, I barely had time for a social life, let alone a sex life. Instead I lived vicariously through Marie, genuinely happy she had a new man who kept a little pep in her step.

We finished and Marie agreed to meet me outside after she freshened up. I made my way toward the door, feeling happy and a little buzzed. I passed the host and turned back when he thanked me for coming. The next minute I ran straight into the man coming through the front door.

He caught me by the waist, pulling me up as I steadied myself.

“Sorry, I—” My apology fizzled when our eyes met. A mesmerizing tornado of hazel and green poured into me, obliterating my ability to speak. Gorgeous. The man was drop dead gorgeous.

“Are you all right?”

His voice vibrated through me. My knees weakened a little at the sensation. His arm tightened around my waist in response, bringing our bodies infinitely closer. The shift did little to help me regain my composure. My heartbeat quickened by the way he held me, possessive and confident, as if he had every right to keep me there as long as he liked.

A small part of me, the part that wasn’t humming with desire for this strange man, wanted to protest his boldness, but all rational thought was clouded as I drank in his features. He couldn’t have been much older than I. With the exception of his wayward dark brown hair, he appeared to be all business in a charcoal blazer over a white collared shirt with a couple buttons loose. He looked expensive. He even smelled expensive.

Out of your league, Erica, a little voice sang, reminding me it was my turn to speak.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he murmured seductively, with a hint of a smile. His lips were etched and full of promise, impossible to ignore with my face just inches from his. He slid his tongue over his bottom lip, and my jaw dropped with a soundless sigh. God, the sexual energy rolled off the man like tidal waves.

“Mr. Landon, your party is here.”

While the host waited for him to respond, I sobered enough to straighten, confident I could stand independently again. I leveraged the effort with my hands on his chest, hard and unforgiving even through his suit. He released his hold on me, his hands blazing a trail of fire over my hips as they left my body slowly. Sweet Jesus. Dessert had nothing on this man.

He nodded to the host but barely took his eyes from me, paralyzing me with that single thread connecting us. Irrationally, I wanted nothing more than his hands on me again, possessing me like they had so easily before. If he had my head swimming with a mere touch, there was no telling what he could do in the bedroom. I wondered if there might be a coat closet nearby. We could get to the bottom of this right now.

“Right this way, sir,” the host said, waving my rescuer toward him.

He walked away with casual grace, leaving me tingling from head to toe in his absence. Marie joined me as I watched his retreat, a sight to behold.

I meant to be embarrassed, but in truth I was shamelessly satisfied with my inability to balance on four-inch heels. In lieu of a love life of my own, mystery man would become fodder for many fantasies to come.

***

I ascended the broad granite steps of the library building and traveled through the halls to Professor Quinlan’s office. He was staring intently at his computer screen when I knocked at the door.

He swiveled in his chair. “Erica! My favorite Internet start-up girl.”

His telltale Irish lilt had become less pronounced after living in America for so long. I still found it adorable and clung to every word.

“Tell me, how does freedom feel?”

I giggled a bit, warmed at his genuine enthusiasm to see me. Quinlan was an attractive man in his early fifties, with salt and pepper gray hair and kind pale blue eyes.

“Still getting used to it, to be honest. How about you? When does your sabbatical start?”

“I fly into Dublin in a few weeks. You must visit me if you find time this year.”

“I would love to, of course,” I said.

What would this year look like for me? Hopefully I’d be nursing my business through early growing pains, but in truth, I had no idea what to expect.

“For some reason I feel like it would be strange seeing you outside of campus, Professor.”

“I’m not your professor anymore, Erica. Call me Brendan, please. I’m now your friend and your mentor, and I certainly hope we’ll see plenty more of each other beyond these walls.”

The professor’s words hit me hard, and my throat tingled a bit. Sentimental moments were plaguing me this week, damn it all. Quinlan had been incredibly supportive these past few years, guiding me through my major and making connections for me to push the business forward. The tireless cheerleader every time I needed a boost.

“I can’t thank you enough. I want you to know that.”

“Helping people like you, Erica, is what gets me up in the morning. And it keeps me out of the pub.” He gave me a crooked smile, revealing a lone dimple.

“And Max?”

“Well, unfortunately Max’s ambition for drink and women far exceeded his ambition for success in business, but it seems like he turned it around after all. I’m not sure if I was any help there, but perhaps. They can’t all be like you, dear.”

“I’m so worried things with the business won’t work out in the long run,” I admitted, hoping he had some clairvoyance that I lacked.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you will be successful, one way or the other. If not with this, there will be something else. None of us know where life will take us, but you’re making sacrifices and working hard for your dreams. As long as you stay true to those dreams, keep them at the forefront of your mind, you’re moving in the right direction. At least that’s what I tell myself.”

“Sounds right to me.” My nerves were strung tight in anticipation of tomorrow’s meeting, which would be a make it or break it moment for the business, and for me. I needed all the encouragement I could get.

“I’ll let you know when I figure it all out anyway,” he promised.

I didn’t know whether to be inspired or discouraged, knowing he sometimes felt as aimless as I felt right now.

“In the meantime, let’s see what you’ve got for our friend Max tomorrow.” He motioned toward the folder on my lap and cleared a path on his desk.

“Definitely.” I laid out the business plan and my notes, and we set to work.

The receptionist at Angelcom Venture Group gave me a questioning glance before leading me into the conference room at the end of the hall. I checked myself over, making sure nothing was grossly out of place. So far so good.

“Make yourself comfortable, Miss Hathaway. The rest of the group should be arriving shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said politely, grateful the room was momentarily empty. I took a deep breath, trailing my fingers along the edge of the conference table until I reached a wall of windows overlooking Boston Harbor. Awe mingled with my growing anxiety. In a moment I would be face-to-face with a handful of the city’s most wealthy and influential investors. I felt so far out of my comfort zone, it just wasn’t funny. I took a deep breath and shook out my hands anxiously, wishing my body would relax a little.

“Erica?”

I spun around. A young man about my age, with blond hair parted neatly to the side, dark blue eyes, and wearing an impressive three-piece suit, approached me. We shook hands.

“You must be Maxwell.”

“Please, call me Max.”

“Professor Quinlan has told me a lot about you, Max.”

“Don’t believe a word of it.” He laughed, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth contrasting with a tan that made me wonder how much time he actually spent in New England.

“All good things, I promise,” I lied.

“That’s good of him. I owe him one. This must be your first pitch?”

“Unmistakably.”

“You’ll do fine. Just remember, most of us were in your shoes at some point.”

I smiled and nodded, knowing the chances of Max Pope, heir to shipping magnate Michael Pope, pitching to anyone other than his father for a measly two million dollars were slim to none. Regardless, he was the reason I was here this morning, and I was thankful. Quinlan had known just the favor to pull.

“Help yourself. The pastries are amazing.” He gestured to the plentiful breakfast buffet along the wall.

The knot in my stomach disagreed. I needed to get a handle on my nerves. I couldn’t even stomach coffee this morning. “Thank you, I’m fine though.”

As the other investors trickled in, Max introduced me, and I did my best to make small talk, silently cursing Alli, my best friend, absentee business partner, and marketing go-to. She could make entertaining small talk with a can of soup, where I had little else on my mind beyond the facts and figures I was prepared to present, which wasn’t ideal for idle conversation with people I’d never met.

When people began to settle at the conference table, I positioned myself on the opposite side, organizing and scanning over my paperwork for the twentieth time. I located the clock on the wall across from me. I had less than twenty minutes to convince this small group of strangers that I was worth investing in.

The rumble of voices quieted, but when I looked to Max for the cue to start, he gestured to the empty center chair across from me. “We’re waiting for Landon.”

Landon?

The door swung open. Holy shit. I forgot how to breathe.

In walked my mystery man—six feet of masculine glory—looking nothing like his suited colleagues. His black V-neck highlighted his sculpted shoulders and chest, and his worn out jeans fit his physique like a dream. My skin grew tight at the thought of having those arms around me again, accidentally or otherwise.

Armed with a jumbo iced coffee, he dropped into the seat in front of me, seemingly unaware of his lateness or lack of formality, and flashed me a knowing smile. He was an entirely different person from the dapper professional I’d so luckily fallen into the other night. He suffered from a gorgeous case of bedhead, his dark brown hair spiking every which way, begging for my fingers. I bit my lip in an effort to hide my raw appreciation for the man’s body.

“This is Blake Landon,” Max said. “Blake, Erica Hathaway. She’s here to present on her fashion social network, Clozpin.”

He stilled for a moment. “Clever name. You brought her in?”

“Yes, we have a mutual friend at Harvard.”

Blake nodded, locking me in a penetrating stare that had me instantly flushed. He licked his lips. The simple motion had no less effect on me than it had the night we first saw each other.

I drew in a deep breath and crossed my legs, acutely aware of the sensations he inspired between them. Get it together, Erica. The ball of nervous energy that had resided in my stomach mere seconds ago had exploded into a blinding sexual energy that had me pulsing from my fingertips to my nethers.

I blew out a slow breath and smoothed the lapels on my black suit coat, silently scolding myself for swooning at an incredibly inconvenient time. I stuttered into the presentation. I explained the premise of the website and moved into a brief outline of our year of bare bones marketing and the resulting exponential growth, trying desperately to stay focused. Every time Blake and I made eye contact, my brain started short-circuiting.

Eventually he interrupted me. “Who developed the site?”

“My co-founder, Sid Kumar.”

“And where is he?”

“Unfortunately, my co-founders were unable to attend today, though they very much wanted to.”

“So you’re the only one on your team dedicated to the project right now?”

He arched a brow and leaned back casually into the seat, giving me a better view of his torso. I forced myself not to stare.

“No, I—” I struggled to formulate an honest answer. “We’ve just graduated, so our level of involvement in the coming months depends heavily on the project’s financial stability.”

“In other words, their dedication is dependent on funding.”

“Somewhat.”

“Is yours?”

“No,” I said sharply, immediately defensive at the implication. I had dedicated my life to this project for months, thinking of nothing else.

“Continue.” He waved me on.

I took a deep breath and glanced at my notes to get back on track. “At this juncture, we are seeking an injection of capital for marketing to enhance growth and revenue.”

“What’s your conversion rate?”

“From visitors to registered users, about twenty percent—”

“Okay, but what about paid users?” he interrupted.

“About five percent of our users upgrade to pro accounts.”

“How do you plan to improve that?”

I tapped my fingers impatiently on the table, trying to keep my scattered thoughts on track. Every question he posed sounded like a challenge or an insult, effectively squashing every confidence-inspiring pep talk I had given myself leading up to this meeting. Teetering on the edge of panic, I looked to Max for a sign of hope. He seemed mildly amused by what I imagined was par for the course for Mr. Landon. The others stared blankly between their notepads and me, showing no indication of their interest either way.

For a split second I had thought last night’s run-in meant he might go easy on me, but apparently not. Mystery man was turning out to be a bit of a jerk.

“We’ve been focused on building and maintaining the basic membership, which as I mentioned, is growing virally. With a solid base of potential consumers, we are hoping to attract more retailers and brands in the industry and increase our paid memberships.”

I paused, bracing myself for another interruption, but Blake’s phone silently lit up, mercifully distracting him. Relieved to finally be out from under his microscope, I concluded with the competitor analysis and financial projections before my time was up.

An awkward silence descended upon the room. Blake took a sip of his coffee, closed out the screen on his phone, and set it back on the table. “Are you seeing anyone?”

My heart pounded in my chest and my face heated, as if I’d been unexpectedly called on in class. Was I seeing anyone? I stared at him in shock, unsure if I fully understood the implication of his question. “Excuse me?”

“Relationships can be distracting. If you were to get the funds you need from this group, it could be a factor that affects your ability to grow.”

I hadn’t misunderstood him. As if being the only woman in the room wasn’t enough pressure, I had him shining a spotlight on my relationship status. Misogynist prick. I clenched my teeth, this time to keep myself from hurling a string of expletives at him. I couldn’t lose my cool, but I wasn’t about to smile away his inappropriate behavior.

“I can assure you, Mr. Landon, that I am one hundred percent committed to this project,” I said, my voice slow and steady. I met his gaze, doing my best to communicate how unimpressed I was with his approach. “Do you have any other questions pertaining to my personal life that will influence your decision today?”

“No, I don’t think so. Max?”

“Um, no, I think we’ve covered quite a bit. Gentlemen, are you ready to decide on this?” Max grinned and gestured to the others.

The other three men in suits nodded, and one after the next, they voiced their commendation of my efforts and subsequent decision to pass on the project.

Blake looked me in the eye, pausing for a moment before delivering his verdict as casually as he’d devastated my morning. “I’ll pass.”

Panic alarms went off and tears threatened, quickly followed by my inner voice. She was crafting a farewell speech for Mr. Landon that included telling him where to go and how to get there. I looked to Max, waiting for the final blow.

“Well, Erica, I think you’ve created a really great community with this, and I would certainly like to hear more. Let’s schedule a time in the next couple weeks for a follow up, and we can get into more of the logistics. After that, we’ll decide if we want to offer you a deal. How does that sound?”

Sweet relief. I wanted to jump over the table and hug Max. “That would be wonderful. I will look forward to it.”

“Great. I think we’re done here then.”

Max rose to chat with the other men before they headed out, leaving me face to face with Blake, who was now smirking at me with that gorgeous smug face. I didn’t know whether to smack him or fix his hair. I had a few other things in mind too. Feeling so conflicted about someone in such a short period of time made me question my own sanity.

“You did well,” he said, leaning in closer.

His voice was low and raspy, making my skin tingle.

“Really?” I countered unsteadily.

“Really,” he reassured me. “Can I take you to breakfast?” His eyes softened, as if we hadn’t spent the past twenty minutes at odds with one another.

Confused, I stuffed my notes back into my bag. Blake was beautiful, but he grossly overestimated his assets if he thought I was going to let him pick me up after that show.

“There’s this great little pub across the street. They do a full Irish breakfast.”

I stood and met his gaze, thrilled by the opportunity to serve him up a little slice of rejection. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Landon, but some of us have work to do.”

***

“He asked you out?” Alli gushed into the phone. New York City hustled and bustled in the background as she spoke.

“I guess so.” I was still reeling from the morning events.

“Did you wear your power suit? With the teal blouse?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, stripping the very garment off of me and collapsing onto our futon back at the dorm.

“Well, no wonder. You look amazing in that. Was he hot?”

Blake Landon was one of the sexiest men I had ever shared airspace with, but he had no respect for women in business, which put a serious damper on my attraction to him. Unfortunately, he was perilously close to being in my top ten of people I most despised.

“It doesn’t matter, Alli. I’ve never been so humiliated.” I winced, reliving his challenges and the subsequent rejection.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I wish I could have been there to help.”

“Me too. Anyway, how was the interview?”

Alli paused. “It was good.”

“Yeah?”

“Really good, actually. I don’t want to jinx myself, but it sounds pretty promising.”

“That’s great.” I tried to hide my disappointment, knowing she was excited about this one. She would be working under the marketing director at one of the biggest labels in fashion. I had known for months that Alli would be looking for a full-time gig after graduation, but the thought of running the site without her depressed me. Unless we could afford to hire a new marketing director, I would become the new voice of the company, and networking had never been my forte.

“Nothing is set in stone though. We’ll see.”

“We should celebrate,” I said. Heaven knew I needed some sort of reward for surviving my hellish morning.

“We should celebrate our new best friend, Max!” she squealed.

I laughed, knowing Max was just her type too, if she only knew. She fell apart over three-piece suits. “Hopefully he isn’t just extending his favor to Quinlan by hearing me out for this follow up.”

“People don’t dangle two million dollar carrots in front of people as a favor.”

“True, but I don’t want him to invest unless he’s actually interested.”

“Erica, you’re overanalyzing, as usual.”

I blew out a slow breath. “Maybe.” I hoped she was right, but I couldn’t help running every possible scenario through my mind in an attempt to plan and prepare for all of them. My brain never stopped these days with so much on the line.

“I’m getting on the Acela in an hour. I’ll be back before dinner and then we can grab drinks.”

“All right, see you then.” I hung up and forced myself to get up so I could locate my comfy sweat pants, the ones I reserved for breakups and hangovers. Today had drained me beyond belief.

I stopped to appraise myself in the full-length mirror in the room Alli and I shared. I loosened my French twist and my wavy blond hair fell down my back. I was thinner than usual, thanks to the past few weeks of stress, but my matching bra and panties still clung to my subtle curves.

I ran my hands over the soft lace hugging my hips, wishing someone else’s hands were there to make me forget all about today. I wasn’t expecting t