“I’m happy for you, I am. I just don’t understand how this happened so fast. You said Anthony Rawlings wanted you there? Honey, that’s great, but he’s been missing since September. What happened?”

Exhaling, Derek peered deep into his wife’s beautiful gray eyes. “I’ve told you all I know, all that HR told me. When they scanned Mr. Rawlings’ home computer, they found a file about me. He even had a job proposal started. Timothy Bronson was made aware of the file, so he took it to the board of directors. They felt it was something Mr. Rawlings wanted, and together they reviewed my dossier and called. Mr. Bronson believes I can help in the effort to pull Rawlings Industries from its downward spiral.”

Sophia’s mind whirled. “Who scanned his home computers? Why would they do that?”

“Baby, I don’t know. This is a huge promotion; not just the money, or the title, but the responsibility. I’m going from a junior peon in a small subsidiary—to a junior peon at corporate!”

Sophia sighed. “Honey, I’m proud of you. I’m just not used to living so far inland. I’ve always lived near a coast, and the whole thing seems strange. I mean, after Mr. Rawlings was at my studio...I’m sorry—I just have a strange feeling.”

His arms tightened around her small waist, allowing his hands to linger on her firm, round behind. “Mrs. Burke, we’ll be busy! I learned one of the corporate lawyers—Miller, I think his name is—his wife has a design firm in Bettendorf, and”—his volume increased—“Timothy Bronson, who I keep mentioning. His wife used to work at an art museum in Davenport. They’re a little younger than us. Sue’s pregnant with their second child, but I’d bet you two would get along very well!”

Sophia closed her eyes and dropped her head to Derek’s shoulder.

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her back, trying to see her face. “Baby, what’s the matter? You weren’t happy about California at first, but now look at you.”

Sophia nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t. I guess, since my parents died, this has been home.” She feigned a smile. “No—home is with you. You’re right; I can paint from anywhere, but please do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

Sophia squared her shoulders. “Let me develop my own relationships. I’ll paint and I’ll move, but don’t pair me off like a preschooler looking for friends.”

Derek embraced her once again. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I know how hard the move to Santa Clara was for you, so I was trying to make it better.”

She kissed his lips. “Don’t—it’ll be alright as long as I have you.” Quickly, Sophia added, “I know you’ll be busy and that there will be late nights. I’m more than willing to do the wife thing at events.” Under her breath, she added, “I’m not sure what kind of events occur in Iowa.” Once again louder, “Nevertheless, I will—because I love you, but you have to let me adjust at my own speed.”

“Mrs. Burke, you’re amazing. You do whatever it is you need to do. Just know that I love you, and when you’re on my arm at the Iowa City Corn Husker’s Convention, I’ll be the proudest husband in the room!”

Sophia smirked. “Oh, jeeze! Please tell me you just made that up.”

His lips brushed hers. “I did. Now, if everything is packed then I believe I have reservations in San Francisco with the most amazing woman!”

She kissed his cheek. “You do? Well, don’t let me interrupt your plans.”

Derek’s lips lingered near her ear, purposely exhaling on her exposed neck, creating goose bumps up and down her arms. “I may have even called ahead and asked for a few things to be delivered to our room. You can come too; maybe you’d like to watch?”

Sophia giggled. “I think you know me better than that. Watching has never been my thing.” Grasping his hand, she offered, “I’m much more of a participant!”

Derek smiled. “Then let’s go participate.”

As Harry’s plane taxied toward the small airport outside of San Francisco, he removed his phone from airplane mode. His thoughts volleyed between his research and Deputy Director Stevenson. Although the Deputy Director didn’t sound upset on the phone and even offered information about Claire and Rawlings’ possible destination, Harry worried about his future. He wasn’t ready to lose his badge. He’d worked too damn hard for it!

His phone began to vibrate as messages appeared on the screen. The small plane still hadn’t reached its destination on the tarmac when Harry looked down to see calls from unidentified numbers. For a split second, he thought about the new practice of solicitation on cellular phones—it was a travesty. He didn’t have time for that! Then he saw that he had messages. Tapping his voicemail icon, Harry accessed his messages.