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Napier.’ A local number was listed.
    Hunter thanked the man and walked over to a customer service area to place the call. If this contact worked out, he’d rent some tools and be in business. Sage would just have to understand that he was serious. Hunter Reed wasn’t a quitter.
     
    *  *  *
     
    As her identity was split, so was her time. Truly, Cody worked from dawn till dusk—and after. Her classes and research at LSU came first. She never took her responsibilities to her students lightly and the time spent in the lab was her sanctuary. Secondly, she supported her partners in The Right One dating service. After they’d set the system up, paid for all the programming to be done that Marnie couldn’t finish, they’d hired a few tech gurus to run things, and Cody had been able to back off. Her main responsibility now was to monitor the feedback, to review the messages and ratings they got from satisfied or unsatisfied customers. The trio still met once a month at Willow Bend and reviewed things—mostly they got together to visit—but all in all, the dating service was going well.
    Right now, she was reading a letter from a woman who praised TRO. “Dear TRO. Thank you so much for providing a place where I didn’t feel inadequate. I’ve always been a little overweight and completely self-conscious about it. But finding a source where everyone was honest about their shortcomings up front made it so much easier. We are all more than the sum of our attributes, but many times we get hung up on one issue and completely ignore what is wonderful about one another. Randy and I have been on three dates and he’s asked to be exclusive. I’m a very happy woman. Helen.”
    Cody smiled, Helen seemed happy. If only she could be so lucky. Oh well, nothing had happened to her that she didn’t bring on herself…even the abuse, or so her mother said. When her land-line rang unexpectedly, Cody answered it automatically without checking the read-out. Only one person called regularly on the land-line. Nana or the nursing home for Nana. “Hello,” she croaked, unnerved.
    “Is this Ms. Napier?”
    Cody went stock still. Was she mistaken? She cleared her throat and glanced at the read-out. God! It was Hunter. Had he found her? How had he found her? “Yes.” She spoke in her own voice, not the Cajun lilt he was used to hearing from her.
    “Hello. My name is Hunter Reed. I got your name from Mr. Treadaway at Home Hardware. I believe you’re looking for someone to redo your kitchen?”
    Shit. Shit. Shit. “That’s right.” Her head was spinning. This was Hunter! Her Hunter!
    “Could I come over and give you an estimate and show you some photos of my work?”
    Almost—almost—she told him the job was no longer available. Almost, she hung up on him. Almost, she confessed. But she did none of those things. The temptation to see him, be near him was too great to resist. “Okay.” He probably wouldn’t want the job after he saw the extent of the renovations and found out the age of the cottage. The home was a nineteenth century period structure and the plumbing and electrical wiring was in major need of updating.
    “Would it be okay if I came over now? I have the time and I would love to get the ball rolling if you find my work acceptable.”
    God, he sounded so professional. Cody sighed. He sounded so beloved. “Sure, of course.” She gave him her address, wishing her voice wasn’t quite so husky. He probably thought she sounded like a guy.
    “All right. I’ll be there as soon as I can find your street. I’m new here.”
    After he’d hung up, Cody jumped up and ran around the house, picking up and straightening as much as she could. The dogs and cats thought it was a game. They followed, barking and meowing, bouncing around. When she’d done that, it hit her that there were things he’d sent her scattered around also. She had a jewelry box he’d made with his own hands, a photograph of Hunter himself for her