Holidays.

I always thought they were for kids. I guess that was my way, being single and all, of avoiding assigning them too much importance. No use borrowing sorrow, I always say.

As it happens, I’ve come to the conclusion that I was right. Holidays are for kids. The trick, I’ve discovered—or should I say someone helped me discover—is to find the kid inside of you. Even if you never knew you had one. It’s trickier, but I’m here to tell you it can be done. Then celebrate. With that same sense of deliberate joy.

Before you know it, you’ll even believe Santa really does exist. (And, as it happens, he has nothing to do with nooners at the Four Seasons.)

Chapter 21

They didn’t get the tree put up until the next day. Tanzy watched him struggle with several boxes of ornaments before she’d remanded him to the couch and taken over the entire decorating operation.

His knee still had to be screaming from the furniture they’d moved out of Millicent’s parlor the night before. Not to mention the things they’d done when they’d gotten back last night in the wee hours.

And then she’d woken up at five A.M. to an empty bed. It was Riley’s bed, though, so she hadn’t felt all that alone. She’d scuffed around and found him tucked in a small office up a short staircase at the other end of the house, comparing lists and scanning fingerprints he’d lifted from the second note. To her great disappointment, Wile E. Coyote had provided no usable prints. She hadn’t realized how far Riley had compromised her absolute belief in Martin’s innocence until she’d felt that teensy shred of relief that the surface of the figurine had been too deeply grooved to offer up even a partial. Not that she didn’t want this to end. Martin or no Martin. But everything was going to change if it was him. And she hated that she’d begun to doubt her own mind where he was concerned.

She’d left Riley at the computer and had gone back to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. Even better, he’d had cold soda in the fridge. Yep, they were going to cohabitate just fine. She’d nudged some coffee at his elbow, then curled up in the recliner with her soda and the remainder of the lists.

The note inside the envelope had been short and to the point.

I am yours. You will be mine. Eternally.

Tanzy shuddered every time she thought about it. Eternally. Not “for the rest of my life.” Eternally. As in, even after she was no longer part of this world. Again, the note could be interpreted as merely obsessed . . . or potentially homicidal. The only thing that kept her from losing it altogether was the anger she experienced every time she thought about the cowardly sicko creeping around on her front porch.

She’d already apologized to Riley for not taking his security suggestions more seriously. The prints on both notes matched. And Riley had made her promise to set up a face-to-face meeting with Martin so they could obtain a print. And a handwriting sample if she could swing it. She’d agreed it was the best course of action. All the while hating that it had come to this.

And then, after such a disappointing morning, they were rewarded by the discovery of a matching name right around noon. One Margaret Swingler. She’d been part of the wait staff at the Crystal Ball, a temp hired to handle the extra demands such a large shindig put on the catering service the foundation usually hired to oversee their functions. She had also been employed by FishNet since their inception, two years before.

Riley had rousted Ernie via phone and the two of them had started digging, but as yet, no connection to the notes or the fingerprints had been made. If Margaret was a relative or a friend of SoulM8’s, they were going to have a hard time proving it without her help. Which was exactly why Riley planned to be at FishNet headquarters this afternoon when Margaret got off work. If they couldn’t talk to her there, he planned to do whatever it took to get Lori Sack to free up more personal information about her. Like the home phone and address they’d thought would be easy to obtain, but Ernie was, so far, having no luck digging up. She’d done the impossible, according to him. She’d managed to keep her personal info off the Internet.

But the confrontation with Ms. Swingler wasn’t happening for another five hours or so. Plenty of time to get a tree decorated, right? Tanzy looked at the stack of bedraggled boxes piled in front of their slightly listing tree. Her euphoria over having a suspect other than Martin was waning in the face of her current project. “I’m feeling a bit like Charlie Brown here.”

Riley shifted the ice pack on his knee so he could lean over and reach the top box. He hauled it into his lap before she could stop him. “I’ll unwrap and pass, you make all placement decisions.”

“Shouldn’t we put lights on it or something?”

“There’s probably a bunch in one of these boxes, but the chances of any of them working are about nil. Christmas lights seem to have a limited life span, in my memory.”

“I wouldn’t have a clue how to put them on anyway. It’s going to be amateurish enough.” She laughed. “Thank God the chances of Millicent seeing our creation are about as great as those lights working.”

Riley smiled and flipped off the lid of the first box. His smile faltered, then turned a bit wistful as he pulled out a half-wrapped ornament, letting the crumple of tissue paper fall away to the floor, instantly forgotten as he turned the crudely made football over in his hands. “Bulldogs,” he murmured, then rolled it over. “R.P. ’85.”

Tanzy watched him in silence, wishing like hell she had a clue what to say, what to do. “You sure you’re up for this?” she asked quietly.

He nodded, then handed her the heavy lump of fired clay. “Yeah. I made this for my mom in art class. I think this was the last year we put up a tree. Before she got too sick to help.” He laughed. “I’m sure she loved getting a football. Not very sentimental, I guess. Except when it came to sports.”

“I’m guessing she loved it.” Tanzy turned so he wouldn’t see the sheen in her eyes. He was more sentimental than he thought he was. She very carefully hung it from one of the bigger branches.

Riley continued to uncover treasures from his past. Some ornaments had stories, some didn’t. He made her laugh, and more than a few times he brought tears to her eyes.

“And you call me sentimental,” he said as she sniffed suspiciously while hanging a baby ornament of his.

“If I am, it’s all your fault.” She stepped back. “I think we’ve crammed as much of your past on here as we possibly can.” She wandered around the tree, trying to look at it objectively. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, it was god-awful. But from a heart and soul standpoint, she’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Riley came to stand behind her. She hadn’t heard him get off the couch. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck. “Thank you,” he whispered. And there was more emotion in those two words than she’d heard in her entire life.

She turned in his arms, a teasing smile on her face. “As therapy goes, this has got to be cheaper, not to mention more fun. Maybe I should ring my mom up, see if she’s got any ornaments stashed about from her childhood.”

Riley’s eyes were swimming with emotions. Too many for her to name. He cupped her face, kissed her so gently, so sweetly, it made her eyes water all over again. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What on earth for? Because I’ve suddenly got faucets for eyes?”

“Did you ever have a tree?”

“Sure. Dozens. Every year, in fact, at Millicent’s.”

“I meant one of your own.” He nodded at the stuff hanging somewhat drunkenly from every branch. “With all the goofy detritus the public school system foists off on our poor, unsuspecting parents.”

“I didn’t go to public school. And my parents weren’t around, remember?”

“What about Millicent?”

“I love her dearly, she was my savior, but she’s not exactly in touch with her inner five-year-old.” She laughed a little, even as she sniffed and pulled out of his arms. “Enough of this. I’ve got a tree now, don’t I? And at this rate I’m going to look like I’ve been sobbing for hours at Sloan’s opening tonight.”

Riley frowned. “What opening?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention it last night?”

He snagged her arm as she danced around the empty cartons, and spun her easily back against him. “No, as a matter of fact, you didn’t.”

“I could have sworn you were standing there while Sue and I were talking about it.”

“I was numb from shoving around furniture that weighs more than the average Japanese import.”

“Ah,” Tanzy said, then kissed him fast and hard, before ducking out of his arms. “Well, the plan is that Sue is going to keep Wolfgang preoccupied so I can corner Sloan for a few minutes alone and get the lowdown on what’s going on with her. Call it a friendly intervention. Besides, we need to clear the tension before the shower tomorrow.”

“What time? And how do I dress?”

Tanzy looked up at him, surprised. “You don’t have to go. I’ll be well looked after and Sloan always has tight security at these things. It’s invitation only. I can give her Margaret Swingler’s name and photo if that will make you feel any better. And she knows Martin,” she added grudgingly. “He’s not on the list for this thing anyway.”

Riley just looked at her. “What do I wear?”

Tanzy started to argue, but she really wanted him with her. And not just for security purposes. “Casual nice.”

“I can manage that. Do we need to go by your place to get something?”

She shook her head. “Just run me by Big Harry first. I’ve got enough stuff there. In fact, do you want to just drop me there while you and Ernie corner Ms. Swingler? I promise to stay barricaded behind Harry’s massive and very heavily alarmed doors.”

“I’ll think about it. But first we’ve got something else to do.”

She snugged up behind him. “We do, do we?”

He grabbed her hands before they could travel any lower than the waistband of his sweats. “Not that.”

She tried not to pout. “What, then? Are you hungry? Because Sloan will have tons of food. Of course, it’s all haute cuisine and horrible.”

“Remind me to stop for a burger or a taco or something, then. But that’s not it, either.” He tugged her hand and headed to the kitchen. He wasn’t limping, so the ice and Advil must have kicked in.

“I owe you, you know.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “For what?”

“You’re willingly attending an art gallery show, exposing yourself to dreadfully pretentious people, talking about whacko-looking paintings as if they have some deeper meaning, and eating snails stuffed with pâté or something equally disgusting. The champagne will be top-notch, though. Maybe we can snag a bottle and come home early.”

He turned, smiling. “And watch the game.”

She was already nodding, happy he was getting in the spirit. “Sure, and watch the— What game?”

“Basketball. Lakers are playing the Nets. Kobe and Kidd. We can begin your education.”

She wanted to pout, to come up with any excuse. She had a column to write. She knew from this morning that he had other jobs he had to do billing for, and two proposals to work on that Finn hadn’t gotten around to doing yet. But none of that mattered. “I guess this is the compromise part of having a relationship.”

He nodded, quite satisfied. “If it makes you feel any better, while we watch I’ll pop some of the best popcorn you’ve ever tasted. You’ll be the first woman to learn the game sipping champagne and eating snack food.”

“I suppose I can live with that.” She nodded behind him. “So, what are we doing in here if we’re not cooking?”

He walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a canister of flour, then got down a few other ingredients. “We’re going to make some Christmas ornaments. I don’t have any paint, so we’ll have to use the Magic Markers I use for drawing up game plans for the guys, but—”

“Whoa-ho-ho. The tree is about to collapse under the weight of four hundred ornaments as it is. Three hundred and ninety-nine of which are football related. That’s enough, don’t you think?”

He merely shook his head and got out a bowl. “I’m not sure exactly what goes into this, but how hard can it be, right? As long as it’s hard as a rock when we’re done baking it is all that matters.”

She grudgingly pulled out a stool at his small breakfast bar. “We’re wasting time that could be spent making other, far more pleasurable things rock hard, but whatever.”

He turned to her and planted his palms on the counter. She began to see why J.B. listened when Coach Parrish talked.

“You said this was your tree,” he stated. “Well, until you have something of yours on it, you’re really just borrowing my tree. Not the same thing at all.”

“Can’t we just go buy an ornament?”

He looked horrified. “Do you see any store-bought ornaments on that tree?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

He grinned. “It will make the other ornaments feel bad if you show them up with some glitzy designer ornament. Besides, it will mean more if you make it.”

She groaned, but it was only halfhearted. He was cute when he was committed. “I’ve created a Kris Kringlemonster. How is it you’ve managed to have no tree for all these years, feeling as strongly as you do about all of this?”

He just shrugged, grinning unrepentantly.

And she had to admit, making him happy made her happy, too. “Okay. I know when I’m beaten. But does it have to be a football? Can it be something that means something to me?”

“Whatever your heart desires. And your fingers can create.”

“I think you know how creative my fingers can be.”

He gave her a warning glance. “No funny stuff. And when they’re done and baking, I’ll let you wash us both off in my shower.”

Tanzy sighed, quite contentedly. Riley’s home was modest by any standards, but the one upgrade he’d made was tearing out a walk-in closet next to the bathroom and turning the whole thing into a state-of-the-art sauna and whirlpool. For him it meant continued mobility. For her, it was just heaven. “Deal.”

An hour and much flour coverage later, she had a perfectly hideous pair of high-heeled shoes baking in Riley’s oven. “Jimmy Choo would roll over in his grave, if he were dead. If he saw these, it just might do the trick.”

Riley peered through the glass window. “They’ll look a lot better when you color them in.”

She laughed and pulled him up and around so she could circle his waist with her arms. “Liar.” Then she reached up and kissed his floured face, leaving wet lip prints on his cheek and chin. “Thank you anyway.”

“For?” he asked dubiously.

“Well, not for proving that I missed out on the dreaded MSS gene. I have no regrets there.”

“I’m not even going to ask.”

“Smart man. But I guess it is nice to know I’m going to contribute in some way to Big Scary in there.”

He laughed and kept her laughing all the way to the steam room. It didn’t take long for their laughter to fade to sighs . . . and a few screams and growls for good measure.

By the time they showed up at Sloan’s gallery, Riley’s afternoon of wild sauna sex with Tanzy was a forgotten pleasure. Margaret Swingler had phoned in sick. And no amount of charm or blackmail was going to get Lori Sack to cough up more personal information. If the police came asking, she might consider it. Emphasis on might.

Riley had actually considered going to the locals. But all he had at the moment were untraceable prints and a coincidence. And for all he knew, the fact that Swingler had been linked to FishNet and the charity ball was just that, a coincidence. Stranger things happened all the time. But his gut told him otherwise. Or maybe he was just really hoping that it would be anyone other than Martin Stanton.

Regardless, he maintained a steady presence at the front door of the gallery, standing between Sloan’s hired muscle and the small office that Tanzy had dragged Sloan into moments earlier. At least there was only one entrance being used tonight, and one door to the office. He was still restless. All his instincts told him SoulM8 was gearing up for another pattern change. A major one. Once he’d crossed the boundary into Tanzy’s personal space by coming onto her property, all bets were off as far as Riley was concerned.

On the one hand, he wanted to drag her out of there, back to his place, where his property was fully monitored. Even if SoulM8 got lucky and tracked them down, he’d never get within a hundred yards of the house without Riley and half the universe knowing about it.

On the other hand, he wanted to coax the sick bastard out into the open, where he could nail his ass down and put a stop to this harassment. Permanently.

One of Tanzy’s friends chose that moment to sidle over. And she sidled quite smoothly. “Riley, right? I’m glad you and Tanzy could make it.” Tall, sleek, and beautiful, she lifted a slender, heavily ornamented hand out to him. “I’m Rina.”

“Yes, I know. Tanzy’s spoken of you,” he said when she raised an elegantly arched brow.

“All good, I hope.”

Riley dredged up his social smile. “Naturally.”

“Aren’t you the smooth one.” She laughed and the honest warmth eased a bit of Riley’s discomfort. “I take it this isn’t your usual stomping ground.”

Now his smile came more easily. “That obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s been to more than her share and would be anywhere else at the moment if it weren’t her best friend’s livelihood at stake.”

“It looks like Sloan is doing well.”

Rina looked around, obviously proud of her friend’s success. “She sure has. Have you met her? And Wolf?”

“Yes, earlier. Quite a pair.” He knew from Tanzy’s play-by-play of her friends and their abbreviated histories on the ride down that Rina wouldn’t take offense at the characterization.

“Yes, they are. I know you met Sue and Paul last night. Mariel was supposed to be here, too, but she wasn’t feeling up to it. It’s getting close to her due date and she tires pretty easily. Of course, that’s no surprise considering it looks like she’s carrying three. Or one with lots of matching luggage,” she added with a cheeky grin.

Riley laughed, understanding more why Tanzy liked Rina so much.

“I get tired just watching her get out of a chair,” she said. “It’s a good thing we decided to have this party for her before the holidays. I’m not so sure she’s going to make it much past. Will you be there, too? At the shower, I mean?”

Riley nodded, careful to continue to monitor the front door. Normally chatty women, especially when he was working, could be irritating in the extreme. Rina was an exception. The cadence of Rina’s voice was well modulated, almost musical, very soothing.

“Any news on the email-stalker front?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice you were ‘on duty,’ so to speak. I know Tanzy wasn’t happy that Millicent interfered, but the rest of us are much more at ease knowing she’s got you watching out for her.”

Riley’s attention turned more fully back to her. He’d gotten Tanzy to agree not to tell them any more details of the investigation. Or anything about Martin being a suspect. If it ended up that he was innocent, the fewer people that knew he’d ever been suspected, the better. Especially where Tanzy’s career was concerned. And as much as she trusted her friends, even Tanzy knew the wrong thing could be said at the worst time.

What he didn’t know was whether Rina and Company were aware of the change in their relationship in the past twenty-four or so hours. He hadn’t thought to embargo that bit of information. Wasn’t sure if he would even if he had thought about it. But he wasn’t going to be the one to enlighten her, either. It was enough, for the moment, that he’d been accepted into Tanzy’s inner circle with relative ease.

Of course, they all thought he was the hired help, but it was a start.

“We’re monitoring several things,” he said noncommittally.

Rina rubbed her arms despite the growing warmth in the place as the bodies began to fill up the space. “I can’t imagine dealing with that kind of thing. I worry about her. I just hope you end it soon.”

“So do I,” Riley said, knowing she couldn’t possibly understand just how sincerely he meant it.

“Well,” she said, “I won’t keep you. My husband is around here somewhere, buying God knows what.” She squeezed his arm. “It was nice to meet you finally.” Then she leaned in, a rather wicked grin on her face. “And no matter what, don’t let her independent streak scare you away. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to her.”

Riley studied Rina’s face, saw the knowing look in her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, and meant it. He knew that despite what Tanzy felt for him, or was coming to feel for him, what her friends thought would carry a lot of weight. “As for the rest, I’m thinking the same thing could be said about her.”

Rina’s face lit up and she clapped her hands before scooting off. Probably to alert the masses.

Riley frowned. A tactical slip, but what the hell. He was a goner and he might as well admit it.

And just to discombobulate him further, he looked to the door just in time to see another wealthy socialite, dripping in fur and jewels, step through the door. What made this particular woman stand out was the man on her arm.

“Dad?”

Finn turned, then grinned widely and scooted immediately over to his son, half dragging the beautiful redhead behind him. To Finn’s credit, Riley noted, she was at least within a decade of his father’s age. In fact, she was actually a member of Finn’s peer group. He also realized that Finn was not all that surprised to see him. Meaning he finagled his way in here on purpose. He had no idea how Finn had known where he was this evening, but as he’d told Tanzy, his father was very good at his job, when he wanted to be.

He wondered what he wanted. He really wasn’t prepared to introduce him to Tanzy. Yet. Or more specifically, Tanzy to him. He’d been thinking, oh, maybe six or seven years from now, when they decided to have kids, would have suited him much better.

He returned his father’s hearty handshake and just as hearty backslapping hug. It had been almost a month since they’d laid eyes on each other, but he knew Finn would greet him just the same if they’d seen each other yesterday. It was part of his charm. And, Riley had to admit, he enjoyed knowing it was sincere where his son was concerned.

Finn was much shorter than Riley, though otherwise they looked a great deal alike, except Finn’s hair was a bright shock of white these days.

“Son, I’d like to introduce you to someone very important to me. Riley, this is Jacqueline Assante.”

Riley was only mildly surprised. He’d assumed the woman was Patsy Shackelford, but it was no surprise that Finn had already moved on. He pasted on an attentive smile anyway, privately thinking this made Important Person No. 126,546. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

“I hope you think so,” she said, with a fair bit more flair than Riley had expected. He glanced from his father’s face back to Ms. Assante’s and received a little shock. He knew that expression. He might not have a month ago, but he certainly did now. Because it was the same one that stared back at him from the mirror these days.

“Your father and I met years ago,” Jacqueline was saying. She sent Finn a brief, very private smile, then turned back to Riley. “We ran into each other again just recently, and well, I must admit, he’s charmed his way right back into my life, and into my heart.”

Riley noticed Finn was beaming. He’d never really seen that particular look on his father’s face. Like he’d won the lottery and hit a hole in one, all at the same time. It was a little bit of a shock.

“I realize this is neither the place nor the time to be getting into all this,” she went on, “so we’d very much like it if you would agree to have dinner with us. Perhaps for Christmas? If you don’t have other plans, that is.”

Riley looked from Jacqueline to his father, at a loss for words. His father had the grace to look a little abashed for having ambushed him. Although, from even this brief an association with Jacqueline, he doubted his father had any real control over her. And it was that thought, and the corresponding reaction that she might, in fact, be exactly what his father needed, that brought the real smile to his face and unstuck his tongue. “I’d be honored. But I’ll have to get back to you on the exact time, if you don’t mind.”

Finn stepped in, took his son’s hand in another exuberant pump, and quietly said, “I’m sorry to spring this on you so sudden, boyo.”

Riley grinned. “No, no, that’s okay.” And he meant it. He’d said he wanted to do something to bond with his father. And it appeared the Parrish men might just accomplish that after all. Only instead of it being a business affair, it looked to be an affair of the heart. Their hearts.

Jacqueline tugged Finn back. “We’ve bothered him enough. Can’t you see the man’s working? Come on, I promised to amaze you with my total lack of art education.”

Finn merely smiled and shrugged and let himself be tugged away. He shot a wink at his son over his shoulder. Riley couldn’t help it. He laughed. His father actually looked . . . well, happy. The kind of happy he hadn’t been in years. Riley thought there might be something to the idea that it all came down to the power of the love of a good woman. They’d both just gone about finding it in an entirely different way.

Just then Tanzy popped out of the office. Sloan didn’t follow. Riley wondered if she was hiding out from an ambush by the rest of the gang. “How did it go?” he asked.

Tanzy half shrugged, half shook her head, as if she was still trying to make sense of it all. She blew out a short breath and said, “Well, apparently Sloan and Wolf are getting a divorce.”

“Oh no. I’m really sorry. I suppose that explains why he only made a brief appearance tonight.”

“Yeah. And, I have to admit that while I wish it had worked out better for them, after talking to Sloan, I’m glad for her. She’s, uh, well, found someone else.”

“Oh? I thought Wolfgang was the infamous philanderer.” Their rocky marriage had been section three of the play-by-play.

“He was. Is, in fact. Sloan was fed up and had already told Wolf he either went to counseling with her or it was over.”

“I take it he opted out?”

“Actually, no. He took their marriage counselor to bed. Sloan’s bed.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes, well, Wolf will have to hang his art in someone else’s home. And gallery, I suppose. And the marriage counselor is facing a board inquiry and will likely lose her license.”

“Sounds fair. But where did Sloan’s extracurricular activity come into play?”

“Well, seems she started getting Swedish massages at the gym.”

“Wait a minute, she slams hubby for fooling around with a paid professional, then she—”

“Hold on to your male indignation. She ran into him socially, outside the gym, at some business function. I have no idea how. And they went out for drinks. She switched to a new masseur at the gym, and well, the next time she met with Lars it was for more than after-party drinks.”

“Lars?”

Tanzy snickered. “I know. And he’s about six years younger than she is, too. But I swear, I’ve never seen her happier. She looked . . . free. I guess I never realized just how much of her stress wasn’t work related. Which is another thing. Lars has already talked her into taking some kind of dance class thing with him. And next weekend, they’re heading out of town to go snowboarding.” She laughed. “Sloan. On a snowboard. I still can’t bring up that visual.”

“Sounds like maybe it has worked out for the best.”

“Yeah. Now we just have to talk her into bringing him around so we can all meet him, then dish about him later.”

Riley wanted to ask her if they’d done that to him yet, but managed to take the wiser course.

“When I came out, you were grinning. Who were you talking to?”

“Oh, uh.” No point in even trying to get around it. “Finn showed up. With a date.”

“Your father’s here?” She looked around, eyes wide with surprise. “Can I meet him?”

“We’re going to meet them for Christmas. If you’re up for it.” Maybe Finn wouldn’t be the only one dropping bombshells that night. And despite all the hearts and flowers in the air, Riley wasn’t looking forward to that little revelation. Finn would have a field day with it. “But right now, I’d love to get out of here. I feel like I’ve been sharing you for hours and I’m getting a bit greedy.”

Tanzy smiled up at him. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing. Did you meet any of my other friends? I told them to come make nice with you.”

“Rina. I didn’t meet her husband, though. And I’m guessing you did more than tell her to make nice.”

Tanzy shrugged, her smile turning a bit winsome. She didn’t pull that off all that well. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He shook his head. He could have told her just how accurately he understood her need to tell someone. He wanted to shout it to the world. To everyone but Finn, anyway. “If you’re through with your intervention, let’s blow this pop stand.”

“Yes, my work here is done.” She tugged on his hand, stopping him just inside the door. “I almost forgot. I had a brainstorm. About the whole fingerprint and handwriting-sample thing. I left a message on Martin’s pager inviting him to Big Harry tomorrow. I said I needed to go over the column and I was having some other concerns I needed to discuss. I made it pretty ambiguous, but serious-sounding enough that I think he’ll make the date.”

“During the shower?”

“I figured that was the best way. With all those people around, and you there monitoring, plus Big Harry’s security, it would really be the best place for a showdown.”

“Does he know about the shower? Men traditionally like to be far away, preferably courtside, during those types of functions.”

Tanzy grinned. “Nope. He just thinks it’s a business meeting. I didn’t mention why we were meeting at Millicent’s. He’ll probably assume I’m there for the holidays.”

“And do you actually have something planned to talk about?”

“I’m still working on that part.”

Riley smiled, then squeezed her hand. “Thank you. For doing this. I know this isn’t easy on you. I know he’s been a very important person to you.” He leaned down and kissed her, in front of Rina, Finn, and artwork that defied description, though likely no one was paying the slightest bit of attention.

Riley held Tanzy’s hand all the way home. The silence between them was easy and his thoughts wandered. To all the memories that had rushed to the surface earlier, to the things he’d told her about Finn, her reactions to it all. He thought about his father’s expression tonight and what this new wrinkle might mean to their joint business venture. Which led him to think a great deal about personal happiness and what he owed himself, and Finn. And, maybe, Tanzy, too.

And somewhere between San Francisco and Pacifica, he realized he’d be dropping another bombshell at dinner with Finn and the woman he had a strong suspicion was about to become his stepmother. If Finn didn’t drop it first.