The next morning, Riley decided that she apparently overdid herself with the melodrama the night before. Did she really need to banish the triplets from her life, too, when it was Paige she was angry with? She found herself wishing she could rewind everything she'd said the night before and erase that part of her not having any nephews. They hadn't done anything to her. They were simply innocent victims of their mother's affair.

Riley sighed and wiped the fresh tears streaming down her temples, tickling her ear. There was nothing she could do right then but worry even more, maybe cry even more when she really needed to stop before her eyes would swell shut. Besides, other things were going on in her life—better things, happy things. Ashe was coming home, and she wanted to start fresh, even if she had to pretend that she was happy.

To do that, she needed to get out of the apartment instead of moping even more. So Riley got dressed in her best vintage Blondie T-shirt and jeans, piled on the makeup over the dark circles under her eyes, and went to work. Work would keep her busy, and being a Saturday, she was sure the Library Cafe would be busy, despite the fake review.

At the Library Cafe, she found herself wondering if people really bothered to read those online business reviews. It didn't seem like it, from the line of customers that grew with each hour, every table occupied by regulars and new faces, books pulled from their shelves and haphazardly returned to the wrong ones. Riley figured if they did, they mustn't put much stock into them. Still, she thought that maybe she better start getting a hang of social media after all and learn how to counter such reviews. Taking a few business courses at NYU wouldn't hurt either.

She could even go to college full-time. She'd always wanted to, and if it weren't for having to help Gareth make it, she'd have had a degree by now. She could have even majored in English—and she still could.

By the time the afternoon rush was over, Riley had had enough of blending espressos, lattes, and mochas. She was tired of smiling at everyone when she really wanted to cry, especially when every blonde woman who walked in reminded her of Paige. She couldn't even muster a smile at Mr. Kyle when he asked her if everything was okay. So she forced herself to get her act together. After all, Ashe was coming home.

Then she began to wonder how long she could hold herself together if ever-perceptive Ashe happened to ask her, "Is everything all right?" Would she bawl her eyes out and ruin everything? She felt like an overflowing dam, and one little tweak of the switch was all that was needed to let everything spill out.

"Is everything okay?" Tessa asked, and Riley felt her throat constrict. "You've been staring at the Ethiopian Djimma coffee for the last five minutes like it's going to sprout or something."

"Sure, everything's fine," Riley said, forcing a smile and hoping that Tessa wouldn't start her Anahata mumbo-jumbo again. Though it had worked well that first time, this time, she really didn't want to be told what was out of whack with her chakras. For this time, it had nothing to do with her chakras. But as she turned her attention to counting how much of certain tea blends the cafe had in the storeroom, she could feel Tessa's eyes still watching her.

"What is it now?" Riley asked brusquely, as she walked past Tessa to go to the office and get her purse. She should have been out the door ten minutes ago.

"Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always around," Tessa shrugged. "Well, I'd better get back to work."

"That's probably a good idea," Riley said, her voice softening as she watched Tessa return to the counter where someone was waiting. Riley slung her purse over her shoulder, waved goodbye to everyone, and hurried out the door before tears threatened to spill down her face.

She could only keep up a facade for so long at a time, she thought. She hated missing Paige, and she hated knowing that she was punishing the triplets for their mother's mistake. Already, she missed them terribly and wished she could see them and give them their usual hugs, and receive their enthusiastic hugs in return.

But everything had happened fast—so fast that she'd barely had enough time to process everything that came afterward, the denial of her nephews and their mother. And now as she hurried home, she couldn't help but feel that everything had changed and that everything hurt.

But maybe, one day, Riley told herself, it wouldn't hurt too much.

* * *

At four that the afternoon, Ashe surprised her with a bouquet of roses delivered to her apartment, along with a note scribbled in someone else's handwriting.

Dearest Riley,

Let's have the time of our lives and get away (for a night; otherwise, Paige will probably file a missing person report and so will my studio). If it's a yes, then pack an overnight bag, feed Miss Bailey, and wear something you can rock and roll in. The car will pick you up at 4:30.

Love,

Ashe (currently stuck at cruising attitude but I will be there!)

The note made Riley smile, probably her first real smile of the day. The answer was a yes—and a big YES at that, she thought, her cheeks hurting from all the smiling. After asking Wayne to check on Miss Bailey in the morning, she packed a few clothes into her weekend bag and replaced her Blondie shirt with a vintage Aerosmith one.

By 4:20, Frank called up to tell her that a limo was waiting for her outside, and soon, Riley was whisked to a private jet terminal close to the airport. A woman named Ashley met her at the lounge and led her past the lobby with their plush leather chairs and couches and out to the hangar where Ashe was waiting for her.

Dressed in a fitted white V-neck sweater and black jeans underneath a black coat, the sight of Ashe made all Riley's troubles disappear. After the week she'd had, Riley couldn't care less what anyone would have thought of a grown woman running into the waiting arms of a man. She ran toward Ashe, jumping into his open arms where he held her for what seemed like forever. Then he kissed her, before drawing away to look at her and burying his face in her hair and neck. Riley loved it whenever Ashe inhaled the scent of her, her neck tingling as his breath warmed her skin and ruffled her hair. He was really home.

"I've missed you, Riley-I-am," he murmured in her ear, his grip around her waist tight and comforting.

Then someone cleared their throat from behind Ashe, and Riley realized that they weren't alone. Two men were standing behind them, and after Ashe put her back down, he introduced her to his childhood friends, Ben Stafford and Lance Purefoy.

"We're running late, Ashe," Lance said, laughing. "Shall we go?"

"Where are we going?" Riley asked as they followed the two men to a private jet in the middle of the terminal.

"It's a surprise," Ashe said.

Riley had had quite enough surprises in the last two days, and she must have frowned, because Ashe squeezed her hand, pausing by the narrow steps that led to the cabin.

"Just let things happen, Riley. Tonight's your special night. Trust me," he said in her ear before following her up the steps.

From the moment Riley laid eyes on the interior of the private jet, she felt like a bona fide princess. Everything gleamed, from the gorgeous burl of eucalyptus paneling along the walls to wide, comfortable seats and their dedicated TV screens. It wasn't as if she'd never been on private planes before. Paige and Clint traveled to the Hamptons in Clint's private jet, and she'd gone with them many times, but this was different. There was no Paige to thank for the luxury. This was just for her.

A few minutes after takeoff, they all made a toast to friendship and love and a night of rock-and-roll before settling down in their respective seats. No one was willing to tell her their destination, though Riley had a suspicion they were going to a concert—why mention a night of rock-and-roll if they weren't?

"Are they your chaperones for the evening?" Riley asked, glancing at Ben and Lance, who were sitting toward the rear of the plane. "Because you just might need them, you know. I might attack you before the night is over."

"Then I'll send them away so you can do just that, though I'm afraid we'll get kicked off the plane if we're not careful," Ashe said, reaching toward her to gently pinch her nose. "By the way, we'll be meeting Lindsay and Melissa at the hotel."

"Who?"

"Lindsay is Ben's wife, and Melissa is Lance's fiancée," Ashe said. "I'm sorry that this turned out to be a group date. I was actually the fifth wheel. Can you believe that?"

"Never in a million years," Riley said as Ashe held her hands on top of the table. "Anyway, I don't mind, Ashe. I'm just happy to breathe the same air with you."

"I'm happier," he said, grinning.

Riley knew that, in the happiness department, in this instance she had Ashe beat, but there was no point in arguing. She was elated to be with him, and that was that. After Ben and Lance joined them at the adjoining table, she loved listening to them talk about growing up in Reeth, about the things they had done as kids and the trouble they'd all gotten themselves into. Lance, who had studied creative writing in London while Ashe was at the RSC, had ended up working with Ashe on Besties as the co-writer and producer while Ben had moved to New York to pursue a career in film ten years earlier and had been instrumental in helping Ashe and Hazel form Rowan Productions.

Less than an hour later, as they were swapping more stories about Ashe and his sheep-shearing duties on the family farm, the flight attendant reminded them to return to their seats and buckle their seat belts as the plane began its descent.

Riley knew where they were going the moment she saw the buildings and the bright neon lights of the casinos and hotels that Atlantic City was known for. However, she kept quiet and listened to what Ashe had to say, for she figured she'd heard enough of her internal conversation over the seven days that he'd been gone. Tonight was her night to let go and let him take charge of everything. She was here, and she was with him, and as far as Riley was concerned, the evening was already pure perfection, even if she had yet to learn what the surprise was.

She didn't have to wait long. After check-in and a quick dinner at the hotel, they got into a limousine and headed for Boardwalk Hall, a historic landmark arena right by the famed Atlantic City boardwalk.

"You remembered!" Riley exclaimed as she saw the billboard for that evening's act, her hand covering her mouth to stifle a scream, but she screamed anyway. Aerosmith!

"I certainly did, Miss Twenty Questions," Ashe said, grinning. "Are you ready?"

Of course, Riley was ready. She was ready for anything that night and the night after that and the night after that. She wanted to cry because she was so happy. But she also didn't want to mess up her mascara and appear too emotional, even if she was emotional. She'd been through a roller-coaster ride the past 48 hours and this—being treated like she was the only thing that mattered to Ashe Hunter—was the best gift she could have asked for, or even dreamed of.

They were escorted to the VIP section, right in front of the catwalk extension stage. The place was already packed with people for, just as Lance had said, they were running late. Thankfully, they were not too late, for they arrived just in time for the opening act.

While Slash and Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators took the stage, Riley remained calm. She was the perfect rocker chick in her vintage Aerosmith T-shirt and tight jeans, and shit-kicking boots that completed her ensemble. And she needed nothing else to complete the look for the best accessory a girl could ever want was standing right behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her so that she could lean against him.

When Steven Tyler walked on stage, with Joe Perry performing his usual magic on the guitar, Riley just about lost it. She screamed at the top of her lungs, joining the thousands of fans doing the same thing, even Ashe and his friends who stood nearby.

She wanted to tell him that this was the best surprise ever, but she knew it wasn't the time nor the place—not that he would have heard anything she would have said above the screams of the audience and the strains of the band. She screamed herself almost hoarse all night until she couldn't scream anymore.

When Steven Tyler said he wanted to see a lot of making out and kissing in the audience just before singing Riley's favorite song, Ashe spun her around so that she was facing him.

"I believe he means us," Ashe said, kissing Riley before she could say anything else. Not that she would have objected, or said anything after that, for the moment his lips met hers, Riley forgot everything else.

With Ashe kissing her in the midst of her favorite song performed live, she must have died and gone to rock heaven. She didn't even care if anyone took pictures of them, or if the film crew spotted them and trained his lenses toward them. Riley didn't care for any of that. What she cared about was standing right in front of her, holding her as he kissed her and when he wasn't kissing her, lip syncing the lyrics to her.

It may be the corniest thing ever, watching Ashe lip sync to the music, but it was the sweetest thing, made even more amazing when Ashe lowered his head and kissed her.