The morning after the bar incident, Lily awoke tangled in sheets that weren’t hers, in a room dimly lit by slanted morning light. But Richie was nowhere in sight.

Her heart skipped then thudded in annoyance. Not regret. Not guilt. Just... irritation. She’d been impulsive, and now he was gone.

A knock at the door jolted her upright. Not Richie.

“Ma’am, Mr. Kavinsky is back,” a maid’s voice whispered through the wood.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Tell him I’m at the hospital.”

She quickly dressed, discarding the bar scent with a cold shower and slipping into her medical coat. But she wasn’t going to the hospital. Not today. Today, she...