Andrea left Mindy’s apartment with her best friend’s words still ringing in her ears.

Go home. Tell him how you feel. Stop running.

She drove through the Chicago streets in silence, the city lights blurring past the windows. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Every red light felt like an eternity. Every block brought her closer to the penthouse, and to the man waiting inside it.

By the time she pulled into the private garage beneath the building, her heart was hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat. She sat in the car for a full minute after turning off the...