Jack smiled. “We’ll see.”

My best friend might be a pain in my ass, but he had damn good connections. Over the next two hours, not only did he introduce me to the head of the shopping network’s buying team, he also took me on set to watch the end of the show they were currently taping. By the time he was done, he’d managed to sell the famous host on the concept of Signature Scent and gotten her to invite Stella and me to lunch the next day.

“Thanks a lot for the introductions.” I shook Jack’s hand in the building’s lobby. “I need to get back to the office, but I owe you a beer soon.”

Jack smiled. “Nah. We’ll call it even since you’ll be saving me from listening to more of Chuck’s stories about bunions. Couldn’t he at least be a gynecologist rather than a podiatrist?”

“I’ll call you next week for that beer.”

“You mean dinner with me, Alana, and Stella?”

“Once again, I’m not going out with Stella.”

Jack smirked. “We’ll see about that…”

I had one hand on the door when Jack yelled again, “Maybe I’ll join you at lunch tomorrow—get to know my wife’s new best friend.”

 

***

 

Stella rapped on my office doorframe. “Hey, do you have a second? I was going over these reports Helena brought by and—” Her eyes widened to saucers when I looked up. “Oh my God! Please tell me I didn’t do that?”

I nodded. “Okay. You didn’t give me two black eyes. I got into a fistfight with the kid at the deli down the block. He wrote my name wrong on my cup, and it pissed me off.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not.” I waved my hand at my face. “This is all your handiwork, Rocky.”

Her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry. I feel absolutely awful. Does it hurt?”

“Yes, I’m in excruciating pain.”

“Oh, God.”

She looked pretty upset, so I had to put her out of her misery. “Relax. I’m joking. It looks bad, but I feel fine.”

“I can’t believe I did all that.”

“How’s your hand?”

She opened and closed it. “My knuckles are sore, but I’ll live. Really, Hudson, I’m so sorry I hit you.” Stella had a white paper bag in her other hand and held it out to me. “Here, take this muffin. It’s still warm. I just picked it up from the deli down the block.”

Was she offering me a muffin to make up for two black eyes? “Out of Hershey bars?”

She grinned. “Actually, I am. I ate my emergency stash last night after you left. This is all I have to offer.”

I chuckled and raised a hand. “I’m good. Thanks anyway.”

“Please take it. It’ll make me feel better.”

This woman was something. She walked to my desk and set the bag down on the corner.

I shook my head. “Fine. Thank you. So what was your question?”

“My question?”

“Something about the reports Helena brought over?”

“Oh yeah—I have a few questions on the purchase orders Helena asked me to approve. Do you have some time?” She thumbed over her shoulder. “I can run back to my office and get them. I came by this morning, but you weren’t in yet.”

I looked down at my watch. “I have a call in a few minutes. It shouldn’t be long—maybe about a half hour. Why don’t I stop by your office when I’m done.”

“That would be great. I’ll see you in a little bit then.”

After she walked away, I stared at the empty doorway for a minute. Was it just me, or had the energy in the office changed since she started working here? I had two black eyes and more work than ever, yet I felt more balanced than usual.

I sighed and went back to work. It was probably just the blow to the face.

After I finished my call, I headed down to find Stella. Her office door was open, but her face was mostly hidden behind a huge bouquet of brightly colored flowers on her desk. Her nose was also buried in papers, so she didn’t immediately notice me.

“Nice flowers.” I raised a brow. “Ken?”

“If you mean Ben, then no. The flowers are for my friend’s birthday.”

“You had them delivered here to bring to her?”

She shook her head. “Her is a he, and today’s his birthday. But he sent me the flowers because he doesn’t like to celebrate the day. Fisher’s mom passed away two years ago on his birthday, so it’s a hard day for him. Instead of celebrating himself, it seems he now sends me gifts.”

That was unusual for most people, but sounded about right for Stella. “You ready to go through the reports you had questions on?”

“Yes, please.”

I took a seat on the other side of her desk. While she turned to rifle through some papers on the credenza behind her, my eyes snagged on a leather book sitting in an open box next to the flowers—or more specifically, the word engraved on it.

“Writing down your fantasies about me?” I asked. “I already told you all you have to do is ask me out.”

Stella’s forehead wrinkled, so I pointed my eyes at the book with the word Diary across the front.

“Oh…no, that’s not mine. The messenger who delivered the flowers brought it. It’s another gift from Fisher.”

“You keep a diary?”

“No, it belongs to someone else. Or at least it did.” She reached across the desk and nabbed it, tucking it away in a drawer.

As usual when it came to Stella, I was lost. “And you have someone else’s diary because…”

She sighed. “Can we just forget you saw it?”

I shook my head slowly. “Not a chance.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Fine. But if I tell you, you can’t make fun of me.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “This is getting more intriguing by the moment. I can’t wait to hear this story.”

“It’s not a story, really. It’s just a hobby of mine.”

“Writing in diaries?”

“No. I don’t write in them. I read them.”

My brows shot up. “How exactly do you come across these diaries? Do you steal them or something?”

“Of course not. I’m not a thief. I usually buy them on eBay.”

“You buy other people’s diaries on eBay?”

She nodded. “There’s a big market for them, actually. Some people are into watching reality TV. I prefer to read my drama. Reading someone’s diary isn’t all that different.”

“Uh-huh….”

“No, really. Millions of people watch those Real Housewives shows and Jersey Shore. It’s the same thing, if you think about it—people airing their dirty laundry and keeping secrets.”

I scratched my chin. “How exactly does one get into this hobby?”

She sighed. “When I was twelve, I went to a garage sale. I saw a brown leather book on a table, so I picked it up to smell it.”

“Of course you did.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t interrupt or I’m not going to finish my story.”

“Continue…”