I heard her words.

But I kept staring at my desk.

I worked a lot because I didn’t have a life.

I also worked a lot because I liked my work.

Further, I worked a lot because I wanted to succeed. I’d been a driven person since I was a little kid. I won the spelling bee (three times). I’d been the freshman class secretary, the sophomore class vice president, and class president my junior and senior years.

There was more.

I did it quiet but I did it because it was something I did. It was just who I was.

Last, I worked because I liked to make money. It was only me (before a few days ago) who would enjoy my beautiful home, my beautiful clothes, but they were both things that gave me some of the little happiness I had.

And I had this happiness because I’d worked for it. I’d earned it. Me. Only me. All me.

Not to mention, in the times that were low, which were a fair few, I had visions (and thus started making plans years ago) of having a retirement where I did all the things I didn’t do along the way. Have fabulous parties. Travel. Take art classes or whatever struck my fancy to spend my time relaxing, looking after me, having fun.

But the last few days had happened.

My life had changed.

I had money in the bank. Money in savings. A healthy retirement account. A healthier investment portfolio. And I’d taken a fifteen-year mortgage on my house, which meant it’d be paid off in only four years. This last didn’t even take into consideration how much equity I had in the house, not only because of property values increasing but also because of all the work I’d done to it.

And I had a thriving business. At least once a month, but usually more often, I had to refer clients to other planners because Claire and I couldn’t take on more work. That year I’d also had to refuse two new Christmas clients because I just didn’t have the time. Not with only me and Claire doing the work.

However, if I expanded my human resources, I might be able to take on a few more clients to increase revenue and shift some of my work to Claire, who so could do it and would so love the raise she’d get with it. She then could shift some of her work to a new employee.

Justine worked twenty-five hours a week. She was smart. Loyal. Creative. Full of personality. Over the years she’d kicked in a variety of times just to help or for extra cash when I’d needed her for events. And I would absolutely not mind if Rafferty was with her when she worked, so she could save on day care.

She’d be perfect.

“Hellooooo,” she called in my ear. “Did I lose you?”

“I need to change my life,” I announced.

“No duh,” she replied. “You were on the road to recovery but now that Logan’s back, you gotta step that up, sistah. He’s low maintenance, as dudes go, but I don’t see him wiling away the hours in your awesome but very girlie pad, watching Easy Rider and waiting for you to come home after you make sure the DJ plays all the right songs at some chick’s sweet sixteen.”

My pad was very girlie.

And it was so not Logan.

Oh man.

I couldn’t think of that.

I had to stay on target.

“Babe, this is personal, but how much do you make at your job?”

“Sixteen an hour,” she answered instantly, then went on, “Which is ridiculous, but it’s the only place I could find that would do part-time and be cool when I had to take off to see to Raff because Ronnie can’t do that at her job.”

I did quick calculations in my head, the extra clients I could take on, the raise I’d need to offer Claire with giving her more responsibility.

I should pull up my accounts. Do it correctly. Make absolutely certain I could swing it, for me, for Claire, for Justine.

All I could think of was Logan.

“I’ll match your salary,” I stated, then went on insanely, “Or better it.”

My friend made no reply.

“Justine?” I called.

“Are you serious?” she breathed.

“I need to adjust my life,” I told her. “I need to make time for Logan. He has girls. I need to make time for them. I never like turning down jobs and it happens frequently. So yes. I’m serious.”

“That’d be so cool!” she cried. “Ronnie’s company covers our insurance, so no worries there. And, babe, love you, would love to have this opportunity, you know I have fun working with you, but gotta share that I’ve got three weeks of vacation, two personal days, three sick, and Ronnie has almost the same, so I wouldn’t want to lose any of that.”

Claire got three weeks of vacation.

Justine couldn’t start on the same level with that as Claire.

I’d up her personal days.

“I can do that,” I said.

“Holy crap,” she whispered.

She could say that again.

I needed to run some numbers.

But in the end, it didn’t matter.

Mental calculations told me any hit to my personal income would be minor, if it existed at all.

Money was good to have.

But Logan was better.

“This is... it’s... it’s awesome, Mill,” Justine said.

“I’m glad you think so,” I replied. “It meant a lot, you covering me while I had to go off and do my thing. But you’re also good at it. And it’d mean a lot to have you on the team.”

“I have to talk to Ronnie.”

She would. But Veronica wouldn’t say no. She loved her woman. She’d want her happy. And they weren’t losing anything out of the deal.

“You talk. You tell me. I’ll run some numbers to see what I can do to make it worth your while. And then we’ll chat.”

“It’ll be worth my while.”

“Let me run some numbers, babe,” I said softly.

It took a long moment for her to reply, “Love you, Millie.”

I drew in a deep breath.

“I’m happy you’re offering this to me,” she continued. “But I’m happier with why. I can’t wait to hear how it all went down with Logan. But you gotta know, official, I’m happy it went down, now for more reasons than one. The last time you had any joy, it was with him. I’m glad to know you’re not dicking around with getting that back.”

“Me too,” I whispered. “And me too again with the love you thing. You’re the best, Justine.”

I grinned again when she returned, “I so am.” My grin faded and my heart warmed when she finished, “You are too. Just hope Logan reminds you of that because I’ve told you, Dot has, Kellie has, Ronnie has, and you never got it. Logan gave that to you too. I hope he gives it back.”

“Okay, we have to stop this because I have a ton of work and I can’t do it crying. I also don’t have time to fix my makeup,” I warned.

“You’re such a freak. Babe, you have no appointments today. You’re sitting in a little house behind your big house. Who cares if your makeup is messed up?”

“I do,” I retorted.

“Such a freak,” she muttered.

“This is better,” I declared. “You being annoying. A lot better.”

“I give good annoying too.”

“Go... take care of the Hubbles,” I ordered. “But keep track of the time. I’ll find time to run numbers today and I’ll call you tonight with a proper offer. Is that okay?”

“Perfect. Later, babe. And, Millie?”

“Yeah?”

“Pleased as punch for you, sister.”

I drew in another breath.

She hung up.

I was grinning again when I put the phone back in its cradle.

I checked calling Justine off my to-do list, hit the next up, and was working on the one after that when I heard the growl of a truck in my drive.

I looked up, out the windows, and saw Logan’s truck.

I smiled.

He turned into the courtyard and I saw my SUV trailing him.

My smile got bigger.

I had my car back and Logan sorted that for me.

My smile started fading when the growl of the first two vehicles was joined by the roar of a number of bikes.

I stopped looking out my window in order to stare out of it when I saw Tack, Hop, Tabby’s dark-headed guy who’d come in with Tyra the day of my scene at Chaos, and Boz, all on bikes, with Big Petey bringing up the rear on his Harley trike.