Moonlight In Vermont. Kacy Cross

be lost, having no contact with the things that comprised her world.

      Before she could dial, Nate called. She told him she was on her way. As she looked around for the hired car she’d ordered at the bistro right after Tony caved, she dialed her assistant, Andy, for their hourly check in.

      Fiona wasn’t a control freak and Andy got that. She might be more of a perfectionist than anything, but really it boiled down to the personal touch. Her clients trusted her with their homes, many of which went for seven-figure price tags. You didn’t repay that trust by passing off clients to an assistant. You crossed every t and dotted every i.

      “Andy. Okay, all done for the night?”

      Andy cleared his throat. “Small change of plans. The Morrisons’ flight tomorrow morning got bumped, so they’re leaving on the red eye. Tonight. They need to make a decision before they go to Europe.”

      That thumping in her ears could not be her pulse. It was far too loud.

      “But they can’t leave town tonight,” she returned inanely. No, no, no. This was not happening. “I’m showing them the two bedroom tomorrow and the location’s amazing, right by their kids’ school.”

      “Sorry, boss. They want you to meet them now,” Andy returned matter-of-factly, as if the entire night hadn’t just slid into the gutter.

      “Now?” she gasped and glanced at her watch. “I just told Nate I would meet him—”

      Deep breath. The Morrisons needed a home, a place to raise their children. Nate would understand if she was a teensy bit late. He was special and really cared about her. “You know what, I can do both. See you soon.”

      Positive thinking had gotten her through more than one sticky situation. It wouldn’t fail her now.

      When Fiona rushed into the swanky bar hosting Nathanial’s work party, her pulse hadn’t calmed down since her earlier phone call with Andy. “Late” did not begin to describe her tardiness, but the Morrisons would not be rushed, nor would she have forced them to cut short their tour of the home she’d found for them.

      They’d loved the brownstone, and as she’d expected, the location had sealed it for them. Their two kids could walk to the private school they attended, and no less than four restaurants occupied spaces on the corner. The couple had asked Fiona to put in an offer while they were in Europe, so the side trip had been worth it for the commission alone, but knowing she’d given them a home instead of a place to put their stuff—that was why she did what she could to put her clients first.

      Nate stood by the bar, looking handsome and devastating in a custom-made suit that fit him so well, her stomach fluttered. The culmination of a perfect evening. She could relax with Nate and tell him about her stellar day. He’d be proud, smiling down at her with his trademark eye twinkle that he reserved just for the lady in his life.

      “Nate, I am so sorry!” she called out with an apologetic smile for the man she’d been falling for all these months.

      She noted with a bit of trepidation that Nate was the only one in the room. It wasn’t that late. Barely nine-thirty. Where was everyone else?

      When Nate turned to face her, the first inkling that she’d messed up skated through her stomach. There was no trademark twinkle. He did not hug her as he usually did, choosing to stuff his hands in his pants pockets instead. He looked every inch the corporate powerhouse he personified at work...and nothing like the man she wished to spend the rest of the night unwinding with.

      “Fiona.” The frost in his voice set her back. “Finally.”

      Scrambling, Fiona shook her head. “My schedule was timed to the minute. But my Uber clipped a food truck and I had to get out and jog the last eight blocks. Listen, I know this was important to you.”

      Oh, man, was Nate ever annoyed. His lips tightened as he contemplated her. “The partners only meet twice a year.”

      She knew that, she really did. He’d told her many times how special tonight was. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. My schedule this time of year is just a blitz.”

      “We’re a great couple when we see each other.” Nate’s face became inaccessible with an expression she’d never seen before. “But I’m not dating your schedule, and lately it seems like you never have time for me.”

      “So I’ll make time—”

      “We are who we are. I just think maybe we want different things.”

      Dumbstruck, she stared at him. That sounded an awful lot like the precursor to a conversation she had not prepared for. He knew how important her career was. Right? And that when you worked in real estate, you had to be at the beck and call of your clients, many of whom worked during the day and required evening showings. Being available and flexible at all times was an integral part of her service.

      “Nate, what are you saying?”

      “That I’m tired of being just one more ball in your juggling act.”

      Fiona shook her head automatically, as if that could somehow ward off the awful direction of this conversation.

      “Yes, I may be juggling, but I’ve never dropped you.” And then it hit her that he wasn’t buying. His face had already closed in. “Are you…dropping me?”

      Her voice broke on the last word and that cued the prick of tears. Unacceptable. Emotions had no place here, and the less he saw how this bombshell was affecting her, the better. She blinked back the tears and stood there without a single way to deflect what she knew was coming.

      “I’m just doing what’s best for both of us.”

      His voice was gentle, but it didn’t matter. The words pierced through her like bullets. Without another word, she fled the bar and blindly searched for the Uber app on her phone, refusing to cry, refusing to feel. She hated being at the mercy of emotions, especially this sensation as if her chest was about to explode from too much pressure.

      This was why she avoided things that made her feel too much. Which meant it was time to lock it down.

      That condo near her office with the second bathroom that she’d earmarked for her and Nate—just in case he proposed sooner than she’d expected—had just become the perfect property for one of her clients. First thing in the morning, she’d figure out which one it fit best, ensuring that the demise of her relationship with Nate still had some kind of positive outcome. That was the only way she’d get through this—by focusing on making someone happy through real estate that would become a home.

      Two

      The next morning, Fiona had enough distance from last night’s shocking conclusion that she thought she could tell Angela without breaking down. She’d tried to call Ang at least three times in the long hours before two a.m., when she’d finally fallen into a fitful sleep. But she hadn’t been able to dial. Her throat kept closing and she couldn’t stand the thought of falling apart, not even with Angela.

      Today she needed a sympathetic ear.

      Fortunately, her oldest friend answered on the first ring. Calling a therapist during work hours was always dicey and Fiona hated potentially interrupting a session.

      Her friend would reschedule a patient for Fiona, no questions asked, but that wasn’t necessary for this conversation. It wasn’t like the contents of her news would change if she had to wait thirty minutes to hash out the worst thing that had happened to her in recent memory.

      “Oh, please tell me you have good news,” Angela begged her. No hi, how are you? It was straight to a request that Fiona couldn’t fulfill. “I have been listening to sad stories all day long.”

      Great,