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his reasons, it was clear that Tyler was going to insist that they go. And how could Nya insist that they not? After all, she’d brought this situation on herself.

      “Okay,” Nya said. “We’ll do this.” And she would play it up for Russell’s benefit, because she wanted him to know that he hadn’t crushed her forever. Russell would be jealous just thinking about how hot things were with her and Tyler between the sheets.

      Oh, he would regret how he had treated her.

      “I can pick you up at five, if that works for you,” Tyler said. “Take you to dinner first.”

      Dinner first? The mere suggestion caused Nya’s stomach to flutter. Sheesh, this wasn’t a real date.

      “Why don’t you call me at the studio on Thursday?” Nya suggested. But she knew that she would not be going to dinner with him. She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. “On Thursday, I’ll be able to have a look at my schedule and make plans then. Sometimes I have to stay late if Sabrina’s got a booking.”

      Tyler nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

      “All right.” Nya placed her hands on her hips, not sure what to say. “Talk to you later, then.” She lifted her drink from the bar, downed the rest of it and walked off in search of Sabrina. She had a headache and wanted to leave.

       Chapter 3

      The next morning, besides waking up with a headache, Nya was overcome with a profound sense of embarrassment. Had she really kissed a virtual stranger in public last night?

      She sat up in bed, and reality settled over her like a wet blanket. No, she hadn’t had a nightmare. And she couldn’t even claim to have been influenced by alcohol. She had kissed Tyler McKenzie, all right.

      “What was I thinking?” she asked herself. It was completely unlike her to have done something so spontaneous and reckless. How foolish of her to try to prove anything to Russell.

      “You utter idiot,” she mumbled. No wonder Tyler had baited her with the comment that she had been looking for an excuse to kiss him. What girl past high school would do something so juvenile to get back at a boy who’d dumped her?

      Despite the throbbing pain in her skull and the desire to lie in bed for another couple of hours, Nya threw off the covers and stood. The tile floor was cold beneath her feet, jolting her awake.

      She had a mission today. And that mission was to apologize to Tyler and cancel their fake date for Friday night. For some reason, Tyler had pressed the idea of going out with her, perhaps just for the entertainment value of seeing what would happen next. But Nya would not be attending the screening with Tyler or anyone else.

      A night of sleep had driven home the point that proving something to Russell simply didn’t matter. She was over him, and she had been petty and immature to even try to make a point to him. It was just that she’d been alarmed to see him at the event and had had a knee-jerk reaction. But she was over it now.

      Nya showered, which made her feel better. Then she got dressed. Along with her resolve to stop dating and become comfortable being on her own had come a change in attire. Her sexy outfits were in the back of her closet, and she’d opted for jeans and sensible skirts coupled with conservative blouses. Her dresses now went well past the knee and weren’t too low at her cleavage.

      No point in attracting the wrong kind of attention.

      And the flats she wore these days were far more comfortable for her ten-minute walk to the studio than the heels she used to wear. Not to mention the fact that wearing flats had allowed her to walk to work much more, which had contributed to her twelve-pound weight loss over the past few months.

      Nya didn’t know if Tyler was working at the firehouse today, but luckily Sabrina, who had met sexy firefighter Mason Foley months ago and was still dating him, could relay a message to Tyler. It was Wednesday. There was still time to cancel their date for Friday night.

      Nya stopped at a local coffee shop a block over from the studio, where she worked as Sabrina’s receptionist and secretary. She got a large cappuccino for herself and a large caramel latte for Sabrina. The single-serve coffee brewer in the studio’s kitchen was nice, but there were days when a girl needed something stronger, and this was one of them.

      Minutes later, Nya was at the studio. It amazed her that the place looked almost exactly as it had before the fire, only better. Five months ago, fire had raged through the lower half of the studio when Sabrina’s father’s wife, Marilyn, had thrown a Molotov cocktail through the front window. Consumed with jealousy and anger toward Sabrina, who had been the product of an affair, Marilyn hadn’t wanted Sabrina reaching out to her children—Sabrina’s half siblings—and had tried to get rid of her. Just last month, Marilyn had pleaded guilty to attempted murder and had been sentenced to fifteen years in prison. She’d been given a lighter sentence for admitting her guilt.

      The community had rallied around Sabrina, perhaps in part because of the media attention but also because of Mason’s status as a well-respected firefighter. People donated their time and their products and got the studio reconstructed and renovated in four months. The interior now looked better than before, with a more modern feel, new marble flooring and an exit door in the back that would allow for easy escape if there was another fire. Mason had seen to it that the building would never be a possible death trap again.

      Sabrina was a workaholic, and Nya was certain that she would find her already in the office. Sabrina lived in an apartment right above the studio, which had largely been untouched by the fire. She was at work earlier and earlier these days, because business had tripled after the firefighter calendar project.

      But as busy as Sabrina was, she was definitely making time for love with Mason.

      The front door chimes sang as Nya unlocked and opened the door. It was just before nine-thirty, and the office opened at ten, so Nya left the Closed sign in the window.

      “Hey,” she called out.

      When Sabrina didn’t reply, Nya made her way down the hallway that led to the studio in the back. Opening the door, she found Sabrina at her desk in front of her giant Mac computer screen—exactly where Nya expected to see her. Her hair was piled in a loose bun, and she was still wearing her pajamas.

      “Morning,” Nya said.

      Sabrina turned, her eyes registering surprise. Then she pulled the earbuds out of her ears.

      “Morning,” Sabrina said with a warm smile.

      “How long have you been up?”

      “I came down just after seven.”

      “Ouch.” Nya winced.

      “I’ve got to get those pictures together from the Miller wedding before they come in later this week.”

      “You’ve got time,” Nya said.

      “Not when more work keeps piling up,” Sabrina countered. “If I don’t keep on top of it, I’ll be buried fast.”

      Nya walked toward her, extending the cup tray as she did. “Yours is on the right. A large caramel latte

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