“Come on, Angel. I hear you every week! I know you’re not a prude, and I know you’re not against having sex for sex sake.”

“If you’re an adult and you can protect yourself; physically and emotionally, Chris, then, sure.”

“Okay, so… find out more about him.”

“We have to get back to work. The phones are lit up like Christmas trees.”

When Christina was firmly ensconced at her post, Angel replaced the headphones on her head and took a sip of her water as she watched the last ten seconds of the commercial tick off on her computer screen.

* * *

Alex sat on the leather couch in his great room with his Golden Retriever, Max, sprawled out across his lap. The dog was eighty pounds, but he was a huge baby and Alex adored him. They were inseparable when he was in town. He even took him to the office on occasion. Mrs. Dane refused to walk him, saying, in no uncertain terms, that she was no pooper-scooper and he didn’t pay her enough to be one. Alex liked her immensely and so allowed the tirade. He’d good-naturedly offered her a raise if she’d do it.

“Pfft. You can’t afford me. If that dog’s shit were made of gold, I wouldn’t touch it. Are we clear?” The next day, she’d called a dog walking service to be on retainer and that was that.

It was dark in his house, and he’d discarded his tie, belt, and jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned and left hanging open over his bare chest. His father would chastise him for not wearing an undershirt, but the Chicago summer had been so fucking sweltering.

He was still reeling that Angeline Hemming was the sexy little thing from all those months ago; the soft little girl who invaded his thoughts so much he no longer found the plasticity of Whitney exciting.

Alex listened to Angeline as he threaded his hands through Max’s luxurious coat over and over again. He leaned his head back on the couch, letting her voice wash over him. He wanted to hear her words, but since they weren’t for him, he was more into the sound of them than the content. What is it about this woman? He closed his eyes and let out his breath in a long sigh. Everything.

Darian wanted the two of them to go out downtown, and Alex was certain that, if they did, he could be fucking some willing woman instead of spending the evening alone with Max and Angel’s dulcet tones. He was somewhat pissed at his obvious weakness. Could he be that gone over her already, even though he knew nothing about her? Just the sight of her, the sound of her voice, her scent… was more than enough to affect him in painful ways.

His mind wandered to the contents of the file folder sitting on leather upholstery in the backseat of his Audi. Probably everything he wanted or needed to know about her was in there, but damn if he didn’t find himself resisting it. From what he’d seen and heard, she was utterly incredible, and he wasn’t worried that he’d find anything remotely untoward within the reports. More than that, he wanted to get to know her, really know her, not read a cold dossier. Suddenly, to do it the right way seemed important to Alex. If things evolved as he hoped, she’d be angry, and it would no doubt ruin any real chance he had of getting close to her.

He shook his head in amazement. In a matter of a few short hours, the contents of the investigation didn’t mean a goddamn thing. Physically, she drove him crazy. It was a blatant, tangible thing between them. He knew she felt it, and it excited him enough to make him shake. His cock hardened just remembering the urge he had to place his mouth on the pulse of her neck and touch her hair as he helped her with her jacket right before she walked out of the bar. Uncharacteristically, he’d been helpless to do anything other than watch her leave and feeling out of control in any situation was disconcerting. When she was singing that sexy song, he felt like it was only to him—because it was.

“Fuck,” he said into the large room and shifted uncomfortably. Max whined in protest at Alex’s movement. “Oh, Max. I’m so seriously screwed.”

“Welcome back, this is Angel After Dark… and I’m here for you. What’s your name?”

Alex’s pulse quickened when Angel’s voice filtered through the speakers and filled the air around him. His left hand went to his chest and he started to rub it, just slightly, at the unfamiliar feeling.

“Joanie.”

“Hey, Joanie. What can I help you with?”

The caller was crying softly, but as Angel waited for her to answer, he swore he could hear her breathe.

“My… my husband just left me. He’s screwing his secretary. Oh, God, it hurts so much! I mean, what about my children? They’re so young.”

“Oh, Joanie, I’m so sorry, honey.” Angel’s voice was sympathetic and sad. “So sorry.”

“Everyone is giving me all the bullshit clichés. You know, ‘you’re better off without him, you have a choice to feel better, just move on,’ and I can’t take more of that. Please don’t say that to me.”

Alex listened intently and reached for his beer, waiting for Angeline’s answer.

“Joanie, people are just trying to help you, and they think, by making less of it than what it is, you will begin to see it that way and it will become less painful. They’re hurting because you’re hurting, and truthfully, there is nothing they can say or do to take this away. This may be a cliché, but it’s true; you will begin to feel better, but it will take time. I won’t belittle your pain by telling you it will happen overnight, because it won’t.”

The caller sobbed harder, and Angel waited for it to lessen a bit before she continued.

“I am not a believer in that bullshit about feeling better being a choice. That’s impossible. Things happen in people’s lives because of choices other people make. Choices you had no control over. He made the choice and now you and your children are left to deal with it. I don’t believe you can just choose to feel better, and it pisses me off when people spew that crap. The best thing I can tell you is that the choices you do have are how you take care of yourself and your children. You have choices about how you react to his choices. Focus on doing what is best for you, and, eventually, you will feel better. And, remember, the children had no choice in this either, and I know you’ll put their needs first. Whatever he did, he’s still their father.”

“I understand.” The caller sniffed.

Once again, Alex was impressed by Angel’s level-headed ability to see both sides of the situation, and his admiration for her only increased. If she ever had children, she’d never let bitterness keep them from their father. He grinned into the darkness. “Max… she’s just about fucking perfect, even if she is a pain in the ass.”

Angel continued, “It happened. It won’t, or can’t, be undone; so you need to decide what you want moving forward. I’m sorry I don’t have a magic wand to take the grief away for you. I wish I did. If your friends and family are only adding to your pain, even though their intentions are good, take a break from them as well. Tell them you just need some time to deal with things on your own. Take your kids on a trip somewhere that you have no memories with your husband, or move somewhere that you’ve never lived with him. All of this will help, little by little.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hemming. Can I call you again if I need to?”

“Of course, Joanie. Take care. You’re listening to Angel After Dark, and I’ll be answering an email from James in Des Plaines after the break. Be right back.”

Alex remained where he was on the couch with Max for the remainder of Angel’s show; at times pissed at himself that he couldn’t pry himself from the spot, and, other times, completely content with the sound of her voice filling the space around him.

He pulled out his cell phone and hit redial, ignoring the missed call from Cole. He had no desire to talk to his brother until the little heart-to-heart that they’d be having on Monday.

“KKIS, this is Chris.”

“Good evening again, Chris. Can I please speak to Dr. Hemming?” The giggle from the other end took him aback. “Hello?”

“Um, sorry. Do you wish to speak to her on air, Mr. Avery?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“We’ve spoken twice now. I recognize your voice, of course.”

“I’ll tell Angel how competent you are, but no, this is personal.”

“Hold on, please.”

Alex moved his dog off of his leg and stood up, pacing in front of the stone fireplace. He’d just had his house built the past spring, but the architecture and features were decidedly classic, reminiscent of his parents’ estate with dark hardwood floors, lots of marble and stone, and solid wooden beams. Masculine, but refined.

“Mr. Avery, Dr. Hemming has regretfully declined this call. Personally, I think she’s nuts, but it is what it is.”

Alex was disgruntled. Shit! But at least this girl seemed to be on his side. “Thank you… I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”

“Christina.”

“Thank you, Christina. Can you please give Angel my number and tell her I’ll be waiting for her call.”

The girl sighed. “I’m afraid, if I know Angel, you’ll be waiting a while, sir.”

“Well, tell her, whatever it takes.” His voice was low and he surprised himself. When he said those words, he actually meant them.

He could hear Christina’s breath rush out. “Crap, hold on.”

He heard the phone rustle, and then Angel’s impatient voice greeted him. “Alex. I can’t talk now. I have to go on.”

“Just say you’ll have dinner with me.”

“It won’t get you what you want,” she said quietly, and he smiled in satisfaction.

“How do you know what I want? Unless, it’s what you want, too.”