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yanked her thoughts forward in time. It didn’t matter what had happened back then. She was no longer that same girl, so desperately in love. And Daniel was no longer that same boy. They had both changed a lot over the years.
    Besides, it was Heather’s happiness, Heather’s future, that mattered most to Monica. Her own feelings about Daniel, as complicated and confused as they were, mattered not at all.

Chapter Three
    T he city of Daniel’s birth had grown tremendously during the decade he was away. In the shadow of the mountains, the downtown area had changed more than expected. New buildings of brick and glass shot skyward. Two-way streets had become one-way streets and vice versa. Beyond downtown, subdivisions had spread to the east and west along the Boise River, and more homes and businesses had gobbled up farmland and desert sagebrush to the south.
    Daniel spent Monday morning driving around, getting his bearings and the lay of the land. There were plenty of things that were familiar. Plenty more that were new and unexpected.
    By noon, he felt himself inexplicably drawn to the address on Monica’s business card.
    Solutions, Inc., was located in one of the new downtown office buildings. Daniel parked his car in an underground parking garage, then took the elevator to the ninth floor.
    The elevator doors opened into an exquisite lobby, decorated in hues of mauve and teal. The carpet was thick and squishy underfoot. The overstuffed mauve chairs were upholstered in soft leather. About twenty feet away, a reception desk sat in front of two ten-foot-high, thick glass doors. Gold lettering on that glass identified the business as Solutions, Inc.
    He still didn’t know what sort of solutions this company had, but whatever it was, they were good at it, judging by what Daniel saw here.
    A young, perky-looking receptionist, wearing a telephone headset, glanced up from the paperwork on her desk and gave Daniel a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”
    “Yes.” He strode across the lobby, stopping in front of the desk. “I’m looking for Monica Fletcher. Is she available?”
    “One moment and I’ll see. May I tell her your name?”
    “Daniel Rourke.”
    She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, just like that famous newspaper guy.”
    “Yeah, just like him.”
    The receptionist pressed a button on the elaborate phone system. “Ms. Fletcher, there’s a Daniel Rourke here to see you.”
    While the young woman listened to whatever Monica said, Daniel let his gaze move around the lobby once again. It reminded him a little of Monica’s living room. The colors were similar, and he thought the large vase in the corner—filled with colored ostrich feathers and dried flowers—was a duplicate of one he’d seen in Monica’s entry hall.
    “Mr. Rourke?”
    He looked back at the receptionist.
    “Ms. Fletcher said you may go in. Do you know where her office is?”
    “No. I’m sorry. I don’t.”
    She continued to smile as she pointed. “Go through those doors and make a right. Go all the way to the end of the hall. Ms. Fletcher has the last office. You can’t miss it. There’s a sign on her door.”
    “Thanks.”
    Daniel found that the inner offices were as well-appointed as the lobby. Quality prints hung on the walls. Classic lamps adorned large desks of oak and cherry wood. Judging by how quiet it was, he suspected most people were at lunch. He wondered why Monica wasn’t.
    He reached the end of the hall and came to an abrupt stop, staring at the nameplate on the wood door that read: Monica Fletcher, President, Solutions, Inc.
    President? Before he could knock, the door opened in front of him, and there stood Monica.
    She wore her golden curls swept up in a no-nonsense chignon. Soft brown shadow colored her eyelids. Her lovely mouth was tinted dark pink. Her business suit was pale yellow with a straight skirt, stopping just above her knees. It, too, said no nonsense. It also said very feminine.
    “I