“Yeah, shes around.” Though the boy gave Brad a very quick up-and-down glance, Brad had the certain sensation hed been studied carefully and thoroughly, and the jury was still out. “Yougotta wait out there, cause Im not allowed to let anybody in if I dont know who they are.”

“No problem.”

The door shut in his face. Like mother, like son, Brad thought, then heard the boy shout.

“Mom! Theres this guy at the door. He looks like a lawyer or something.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Brad mumbled and cast his eyes to heaven.

Moments later the door opened again.Zoes expression changed from puzzlement to surprise to mild irritation in three distinct stages.

“Oh. Its you. Um… is there something I can do for you?”

You could let me nibble my way up your neck to the back of your ear for a start, Brad thought, but kept his easy smile in place. “Dana was in the store this afternoon, picking up some supplies.”

“Yes. I know.” She tucked a dishcloth in the waistband of her jeans, let the tail hang down her hip. “Did she forget something?”

“Not exactly. I just thought you might be able to use this.” He lifted the gift hed leaned against the side of the house, then had the pleasure of seeing her blink in surprise an instant before she laughed.

Really laughed. He loved the sound of it, the way it danced over her face, into her eyes.

“You brought me a stepladder?”

“An essential tool for any home or business improvement project.”

“Yes, it is. I have one.” Obviously realizing how ungracious that sounded, she flushed and hurried on. “But its… old. And we can certainly use another. It was really thoughtful of you.”

“We ofHomeMakers appreciate your business. Where would you like me to put this?”

“Oh, well.” She glanced behind her, then seemed to sigh. “Why dont you just bring it in here? Ill figure that out later.” She stepped back, bumped into the boy who was hovering at her back. “Simon, this is Mr. Vane. Hes an old friend of Flynns.”

“He said he was a friend of yours.”

“Working on that.” Brad carried the stepladder into the house. “Hi, Simon. Hows it going?”

“Its going okay. How come youre wearing a suit if youre carrying ladders around?”

“Simon.”

“Good question.” Brad ignoredZoe and concentrated on the boy. “I had a couple of meetings earlier today. Suits are more intimidating.”

“Wearing them sucks. Mom made me wear one to AuntJoleens wedding last year. With a tie. Bogus.”

“Thanks for that fashion report.”Zoe hooked an arm around Simons throat and made him grin.

Then they both grinned, at each other, and Brads eyes were dazzled.

“Homework?”

“Done. Video game time.”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Forty-five.”

“Thirty.”

“Sweet!” He wriggled free, then bolted across the room to the TV.

Now that her hands were no longer full of boy,Zoe didnt know what to do with them. She laid one on the ladder. “Its a really nice stepladder. The fiberglass ones are so light and easy to work with.”

“Quality with value—HomeMakers bywords.”

The sounds of a ballpark abruptly filled the tiny living room behind her. “Its his favorite,”Zoe managed. “Hed rather play baseball—virtual or in real life—than breathe.” She cleared her throat, wondered what the hell she was supposed to do next. “Ah… can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure, Whatevers handy.” “Okay.” Damn it. “Just, um, have a seat. Ill be back in a minute.”

What to do with Bradley Vane? she asked herself as she hurried back to the kitchen. In her house. Plunked down in his expensive shoes in her living room. An hour before dinner.

She stopped herself, pressed her hands to her eyes. It was okay, it was perfectly all right. Hed done something very considerate, and she would reciprocate by bringing him something to drink, having a few minutes of conversation.

She never knew what she was supposed to say to him. She didnt understand men like him. The kind of man who came from serious money. Whod done things and had things and gone places to get more.

And he made her so stupidly nervous and defensive.

Should she take him a glass of wine? No, no, he was driving, and she didnt have any really good wine anyway. Coffee? Tea?

Christ.

At her wits end, she opened the refrigerator. She had juice, she had milk.

Here, Bradley Charles Vane IV, of the really rich and

important Pennsylvania Vanes, have a nice glass of cow juice, then be on your way.

She blew out a breath, then dug a bottle of ginger ale out of a cupboard. She took out her nicest glass, checked for water spots, then filled it with ice. She added the ginger ale, careful to keep it a safe half inch below the rim.

She tugged at the hem of the sweatshirt shed tossed on over jeans, looked down resignedly at the thick gray socks she wore in lieu of shoes, and hoped she didnt smell of the brass cleaner shed been using to attack the tarnish on an umbrella stand shed picked up at the flea market.

Suit or no suit, she thought as she squared her shoulders, she wouldnt be intimidated in her own home. She would take him his drink, speak politely, hopefully briefly, then show him out.

No doubt he had more exciting things to do than sit in her living room drinking ginger ale and watching a nine-year-old play video baseball.

She carried the glass down the hall, then stopped and stared.

Bradley Charles Vane IV wasnt watching Simon play. He was, to her amazement, sitting on the floor in his gorgeous suit, playing with her son.

“Two strikes, baby. You are doomed.” With a cackle, Simon wiggled his butt and prepared for the next pitch.

“Dream on, kid. See my man on third? Hes about to score.”

She stepped farther into the room, but neither of them noticed her as the ball whistled toward the plate and the bat cracked against virtual cowhide.

“Hes got it, hes got it, hes got it,” Simon said in a kind of whispered chant. “Yeah, yeah, shagged that sucker.”

“And the runner tags,” Brad said. “Watch him fly, heading for home. Here comes the throw… and he slides, and…”

Safe! the home base ump decreed.

“Oh, yeah.” Brad gave Simon a quick elbow nudge. “One to zip, pal.”

“Not bad. For an old guy.” Simon chuckled. “Now prepare to be humiliated.”

“Excuse me. I brought you some ginger ale.”

“Time out.“ Brad twisted around to smile up at her. ”Thanks. Do you mind if we play out the inning?“

“No. Of course not.” She set the glass on the coffee table, and wondered what she should do now. “Ill just be back in the kitchen. I need to start dinner.”

When his eyes stayed so direct and easy on hers, she heard-—with some horror—the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Youre welcome to stay. Its just chicken.”

“Thatd be great.”

He swiveled back around to resume the game.

Mental note, Brad thought: Forget the roses and champagne. Home improvement supplies are the key to this particular ladys lock.

* * *

WHILEZoe was standing in her kitchen wondering how the hell she was going to turn her humble chicken into something worthy of a more sophisticated palate, Dana was soothing her ego with takeout pizza.

She hadnt meant to tell him. Ever. Why give him one more thing to smirk at her about?

But he hadnt smirked, she admitted, washing down the pizza with cold beer. In fact, hed looked as though shed put a bullet dead center of his forehead.

Neither could she claim hed looked pleased or puffed up about the knowledge that shed been in love with him.

The fact of it was, hed looked shocked, then sorry.

Oh, God, maybe that was worse.

She sulked over the pizza. Though she had her evening book open on the table beside her, she hadnt read a single word. She was just going to have to deal with this, she told herself.

She couldnt afford to obsess about Jordan. Not only because she had other things that should occupy her time and her thoughts, but it just wasnt healthy.

Since it was clear he was going to hang around for several weeks, and there was no avoiding him unless she avoided Flynn and Brad, they would be seeing each other regularly.

And if she accepted all that had happened in the last month, all shed learned, she was going to have to accept that Jordan had been meant to come back. He was a part of it all.

And damn it, he could be useful.

He had a good brain, one that picked up on and filed away details.

It was one of the skills that made him such a strong writer. Oh, she hated to admit that one. She hoped her tongue would fall out before she spoke those words to him.

But he had such talent.

Hed chosen that talent over her, and that still hurt. But if he could help her find the key, she would have to put that hurt away. At least temporarily.

She could always kick his ass later.

Mollified, she ate some more pizza. Tomorrow she would get a fresh start. She had the whole day, the whole week, the whole month to do whatever she felt needed to be done. Thered be no need to set the alarm, dress for work.

She could spend the whole day in her pajamas if she wanted to, digging into her research, outlining a plan, surfing the Net for more data.

She would contactZoe and Malory and set up another summit meeting. They worked well together.

Maybe theyd start to work on the building. Physical labor could spark mental acuity. The first key had been hidden, in a manner of speaking, in the building they were buying. Of course, Malory had had to paint the key into existence before she could retrieve it from the painting.

Maybe the second, or at least the link to the second, was in the house as well.

In any case, it was a plan. Something solid to get her teeth into.

She shoved the pizza aside and rose to phone Malory first. With plans to meet for a full days painting set, she phonedZoe .

“Hey. Its Dana. Just got off the phone with Mal. Were going to start the great transformation at the house tomorrow. Nine oclock. Malory voted for eight, but theres no way in hell Im getting up that early when Im not drawing an actual paycheck.”

“Nines fine. Dana.” Her voice dropped to a hissing whisper. “Bradleys here.”

“Oh. Okay, Ill let you go, then. See—”

“No, no. What am I supposed to do with him?”

“Gee,Zoe , I dont know. What do you want to do with him?”

“Nothing.” Her voice went up a notch before lowering again. “I dont know how this happened. Hes out in the living room playing video baseball with Simon, in a suit.”

“Simons wearing a suit?” Dana tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Boy,thingsre pretty formal at your house.”

“Stop it.” But she laughed a little. “Hes wearing a suit. Bradley. He came to the door with a stepladder, and before I knew—”

“With a what? What for? To clean out your gutters? That was not a euphemism, by the way. But, come to think of it, itd be a pretty good one.”

“He gave it—the stepladder—to me—to us—” she corrected quickly. “For the painting and stuff. He thought we could use it.”

“That was nice of him. Hes a nice guy.”

“Thats not the point! What am I supposed to do with this chicken?”

“Brad brought you a chicken?”

“No.” There was helpless, hooting laughter over the line. “Why would anyone bring me a chicken?”

“I was just wondering the same thing.”

“I have chicken breasts defrosted, for dinner. What am I going to do with them now?”

“Id try cooking them. Jeez,Zoe , relax. Its just Brad. Throw the chicken in a pan, rustle up some rice or potatoes, whatever, add something green and toss it on a plate. Hes not fussy.”

“Dont tell me hes not fussy.” She went back to the hissing whisper. “We dont do cordon bleu in this house. I dont even know for sure what cordon bleu means. Hes wearing anAudemarsPiguet . Do you think I dont know what anAudemarsPiguet is?”

It was fascinating, really, Dana decided, to realize her old friend Brad turned a sensible woman likeZoe into a raving lunatic. “Okay, Ill bite. What is anAudemarsPiguet and is it really sexy?”

“Its a watch. A watch that costs more than my house. Or damn near. Never mind.” There was a long, long sigh. “Im making myself crazy, and its just stupid.”

“I cant argue with you about that.”

“Ill see you tomorrow.”

Shaking her head, Dana hung up. Now she had one more thing to look forward to in the morning. And that was hearing all about howZoe and Brad handled a chicken dinner.