Kate hurried back into the conference room, began unplugging and packing

up her laptop. She needed to get out of here, back to Chicago. She had to finish

this project, and then she could think. She needed time to think.

She stuffed some cords into her bag. That's it, she nodded to herself. Just some time to think.

Yet, down below, in the bedrock of her heart, she knew she didn't need more time to think. She'd never needed it, not since she'd been ambushed by his familiar crooked smile in front of Ray's Diner weeks ago.

She loved Peter. That was one thing that wasn't going to change.

* * *

She checked her watch, then hurried her pace down the hall. The sooner she got

back to Chicago, the better. She'd sort out this job, her career, her life.

She stopped. Peter was standing in the main entrance, hands in his pockets.

Tall and unavoidable as a roadblock. The only thing between her and escape. He

was talking to a student, who nodded and headed for the front door. Field trip must be over.

She waited, half hoping, half frightened out of her mind that he would turn

and see her.

She turned. No. She had work to do. And a long drive back. She couldn't deal with this right now.

Aside from her stinging eyes, she was fine. And this lead brick in her stomach. And the empty space in her chest.

She pushed through a side door that led to the visitor's lot and stood for a moment. Wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Maybe she could send Danni back for the final presentation if they won.

She'd stay back in Chicago and…

She stiffened. No. This was her deal, her work.

Down the steps, to her car.

Back one more time if need be, then that was it. The job was done.

* * *

Peter watched from the reception area window that looked out onto the Nitrovex

visitor's lot. The school bus had just chugged out of the entryway, but it wasn't

what he was watching leave.

He could see her profile, standing at the top of the stairs wearing her tan double-breasted wool coat, stiff and straight, October wind ruffling her hair.

One last look, huh? a nameless voice said.

She slung her purse over her shoulder, suddenly looking all business. Her hair pulled back, her face prim. As if she were someone else.

His heart jumbled. Go after her. Grab her. Kiss her.

She was jogging down the steps. A hand wiped her face.

He had expected this, right? He should have. He knew she was going to go

back. He had just gotten so used to having her around, even though he knew Chicago was where she belonged. It was where she'd always wanted to be.

Do something. Do something really romantic. Run after her. Tackle her.

Throw roses at her. Grab her and kiss her and carry her to your car while the

factory workers cheer.

Stop her.

He let her go. Down the walkway to the lot. Into her car. It backed out, paused, went forward, and she was gone.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kate rushed to Carol's house only long enough to pick up her luggage and cram

it in the back seat of her car. She wasn't sure that Carol bought her excuse when

she explained that she needed to get back to Chicago tonight. Yes, the presentation had gone fine, but there was a lot of work that needed to still be done.

Her yellow VW bug floated down I-88 silently. The road was straight and smooth. Inside, she was trying to keep her mind on driving. She flipped through

radio stations and iPhone playlists, but every song just seemed to annoy her.

The countryside flowed by, dull, lifeless, monotonous. She saw white

farmhouses with pill-shaped propane tanks by their sides. Red combines in the fields rotating, churning chaff into the air. She saw a rusted windmill struggling to move in the breeze. She started to cry and she didn't know why, and it scared

her.

Her car cruised along. Night was falling, slow and dull. Chicago crept back

into her life, slowly, each building growing higher and closer to its neighbor, until all that was left was concrete, asphalt, and skyscrapers. A place that had once seemed exciting and alive now looked noisy, cheap, and lifeless. Nothing had changed, she knew, except maybe her.

A night's rest in her rumpled bed had helped some, but she was so exhausted