Every inch of Yael's body ached, in a good way. She turned her head on the pillow, smirking at Haustin beside her. He sure knew how to turn a woman inside out, a skill she was more than happy to take advantage of. Glancing at the clock, she noted it was already eight and stretched. Sitting and rubbing the grogginess from her eyes, she grinned as Haustin stirred.

"It's early," he grumbled.

"No, it's not, not really. I should get going." But instead of rising, she leaned back against the headboard.

His arm snaked around her bare waist. "Stay."

"I have to see Miriam. It's been two days since I visited her. I'm a terrible granddaughter."

"Blame me." He nuzzled her belly, trailing kisses over her abdomen, and the lightness of his lips caused her to giggle.

"Oh, I do blame you, at least for last night. The rest has been all business. There aren't enough hours in the day."

Haustin traced his thumb across her lips, and desire sparked, spreading and attempting to reduce her to ashes. With a groan, she pushed him away and swung her legs over the side of the mattress.

"Want me to come with?"

Yael slipped into a pair of yoga pants, touched by his offer. She'd return later to shower and make herself presentable for Haustin's kids.

"No, sleep a little more. We can't do my family and yours in one day. Too much."

"Are you sure about meeting Miles and Luna? Last chance to bail." He flashed her a grin.

Pulling a tank top over her head, she gathered her hair into a messy bun, stalling for time. If she told him it scared her to death, that she was afraid she'd made a mistake suggesting the get-together, would he be upset? Would he take her seriously if she joked about the extra meetings she attended this week to prepare?

She didn't want to be afraid, so she leaned down and kissed him before saying, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Turning away from the tempting man in her bed, Yael took off for her grandmother's. It was beautiful out. Clear blue sky peeked through the buildings, a soft breeze chasing away most of the usual smog. She crossed the street to the bakery halfway between her place and Miriam's, the one she often stopped at when not lugging armfuls of her own goodies. Stepping in, she spotted Val, the owner's niece, struggling with a flattened and overly brown loaf of bread. The pink-haired young woman glanced up, and relief flooded her features.

"Oh, good morning. I was worried you were Aunt Belinda."

No other customers were in the tiny bakery, and Yael peered over the counter at Val's mess. "Did you proof your yeast?"

A horrified expression slackened the girl's round face. "That's what I forgot. My aunt mentioned it twice when I assured her I could open the store." Val tossed the foil pan in the trash. "Now I have to start over."

"Warm water and sugar. Activate the yeast first and you'll be fine on this batch."

"Thank you! You should be working here instead of me. Hard to believe I'm in baking school." She shoved her hair out of her face. "Would you like a pastry? I promise I didn't make them. It's on me."

"It takes time to master bread," Yael assured her. "And thank you, I'll have a strawberry danish."

Walking into her grandmother's house, she wiped the pastry's remnants from her mouth and tossed the napkin in a wastebasket. Rich laughter drifted down the hall, male and female. Curious, she went to investigate, and the sight froze her in her tracks. Casey perched in a chair beside the bed, head tossed back as he laughed. He looked different. Unguarded. Even his clothes were relaxed. Instead of a suit, he wore jeans, a faded Giants t-shirt, and sneakers. Affection tugged at her heart, and a smile played on her lips. It was nice to see him at ease after the intensity of the last couple of weeks.

"What are you two so happy about?" Yael kissed Miriam on the cheek and sat in the chair opposite her. Her grandmother had on a fresh nightgown, and the pale peach hue gave her face some color.

"Miriam's been entertaining me with scandalous stories about being a young debutante. You know, she wasn't always proper," Casey answered, flashing his small dimple.

"You were a heartbreaker." Yael patted the woman's hand. "I've seen pictures of your debut and wedding to prove it. You were my inspiration growing up." She directed her attention to Casey. "Believe it or not, I too was a debutante, although not a willing one. They had to bribe me with a new books first."

"Books?"

"Yes. I was quite the nerdy bookworm."

"A nerdy bookworm? You?" Disbelief dominated his tone as he studied her with a grin.

"This one liked to hide in corners with her nose in a book," Miriam told him.

"Since we're sharing, I'll confess the secret reason I majored in business management." He paused. "I wanted to be a sports agent."

Yael studied him closely. "I can see that."

"Good, because as much as my dad loves sports, he never failed to laugh it off."

Knowing what a dark subject his father was, she steered him in a lighter direction. "You could have dedicated yourself to finding a way to get the Giants back in the Super Bowl."

He groaned. "Don't get me started on that. They win in '07 and now three sub-par years have passed. There haven't even been that many personnel changes to the team. I don't get it."

"Me either."

"Nice to know you didn't change your football loyalties after all those years on the west coast."

"Oh, no way. I bleed Giants' red and blue, like Dad."

Casey beamed at her, and she tried not to fidget under his gaze. They shared an unexpected and unforeseen passion for the same things—history, football over baseball, even the crazy bustle of the city—and she loved their banter. In a lot of ways, she considered him the male version of Wendy. Until that annoying trickle of attraction decided to pop its head in, as it did now. She shoved it down, deep inside, appalled. A man was lying in her bed at home, and here she was, nearly drooling over this one. Classy, Yael, she said to herself.

Miriam spoke up, refocusing Yael's attention where it belonged.

"I'm glad you're both here. There's something I want to run by you." She rubbed her eyes and slumped into the bed. "Three weeks from now there is a gala for the New York City Ballet. I've attended for years, a tradition of sorts, and we are a long time sponsor, but this will be the first one I've missed in nearly a decade. Your parents used to go, Yael. I'm sure you remember." She stumbled for a moment, flinching and drawing in a deep breath. "I RSVP'd on behalf of you both and expect you to attend, as a favor to me and to represent Malkah Enterprises."

"Of course. Mom loved it, and so did I. I'm happy to go," Yael said.

Casey grimaced. "The ballet? Really, Miriam, I might not be the best person for this."

"Nonsense." Miriam fixed him with a stern glare. "You will escort my granddaughter like the gentleman you keep hidden under all those smug layers."

"You mean for us to go together?" She didn't mind going with Casey, but this felt eerily close to a setup. Miriam wouldn't do that, would she? No, she was being paranoid. Logically, she realized being seen with Casey, united, made for good press. The company needed it.

"I made you an appointment with my dressmaker at Oscar de la Renta. She is a skilled seamstress." Miriam continued, her words growing softer, "Casey, you'll be required to wear a tux, of course."

"Why don't you just shoot me?" He tossed Yael a glare as she snickered. "Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, Yael. You get to dress in a gorgeous gown and watch a floofy production most women love. I'll be sitting beside you, itching to be free of the penguin suit and trying to stay awake."

"Don't be such a baby. I'll whack ya if you fall asleep."

They laughed, but Yael caught her grandmother glancing between them with intrigue and hoped Miriam didn't get the wrong idea.

"Now, on to business, before I lose what little strength I have. Casey, any possibility this false permit for the crane might have been a fluke?" Miriam asked.

"My gut tells me no. Even if it slipped through the cracks and didn't get insured, that doesn't explain the permit down at City Hall with my fake signature."

"And you're certain it's a forgery?"

"Of course it is, Grandmother," Yael supplied, hating the way Casey's jaw clenched at the question.

"My buddy at the crime lab verified it." He ran a hand through his hair. "There is another disturbing piece of news I found out yesterday from the detectives. The bolts on the crane were tampered with, weakened from a welding torch. The only people with access were Malkah Enterprises's contractors, so between that and the falsified documents, they think it had to come from someone internal."

Yael's stomach dropped to the floor as a beat of silence descended on the room. She glanced at Miriam, who had paled even further than usual. The possibility had always been there, but to have it confirmed rocked her to the core.

"They're looking at my employees?" Miriam's voice shook.

"Yes," Casey verified. "They won't tell me who, so I assume that means I'm on their short list."

"Don't think that," Yael told him.

"Anyone who would consider you responsible is out of their damn mind," Miriam added with heat.

"I appreciate the support, both of you. This makes me sick."

"What disturbs me is that it was this crane specifically. That block of Warren Street is a busy one. Whoever did it doesn't have any regard for human life." Yael's next words were heavy on her tongue. "I'm worried it will happen again. Two attacks cannot be random, and knowing it could be one of our own makes it a million times worse."

Her horror reflected in Casey and Miriam's faces, and a thought hit her with the force of a runaway truck. Did the timing have anything to do with her return to New York, with her reemergence at the company? Maybe the detectives were digging into her shady past and the heinous people she used to associate with. A shudder ran down her spine, but she kept the suspicions to herself. There was no point worrying the others. Still, the possibility made her ill.

"It can't be a Malkah Enterprises employee. I refuse to believe any of my people would do that," Miriam said with a wheeze. "We must be prepared for anything. Let's hope this idiot left behind a clue. The fire?"

"Ruled as arson. Also still under investigation," Casey answered. "My patience is wearing thin."

Her grandmother's eyelids drooped, and Yael's heart ached at seeing her energy wane so fast. It seemed to worsen each time she visited. Even the so-called good days were not that great lately.

"Try not to worry. Casey and I are on it."

As Miriam drifted into sleep, Yael and Casey gathered their things and left. Outside, on the sidewalk, she slipped on her sunglasses and mentally switched gears, preparing herself for the excursion with Haustin and his kids.

"I hate seeing her so weak," Casey muttered. "Isn't right."

"You dropped a huge bomb on her. Malkah Enterprises has been her life and I can't imagine how she is feeling about the possibility it's an inside job. I hope they're wrong. And you're mistaken, she is far from weak. Her mind refuses to give up, but it's frustrating to have your body betray you."

"Speaking from experience?"

"I chose to do it to myself, which is worse. My mind betrayed me as much as my body did." Yael shook her head to chase away images of bones visible under her skin and soiled sheets.

He watched her for a while, and she shifted restlessly.

"What are you up to the rest of the day?" Casey asked.

"Meeting some friends, catching up." She avoided the truth, convinced he'd voice his doubt and reaffirming that meeting Haustin's kids may be happening too soon. With the high level of anxiety humming through her body, she wondered why she had suggested it in the first place.

"Good for you. I'm going to run down and make sure the cleanup is going smoothly at the crash site. Then I might go work on your building."

That morsel caught her off guard. "What would you do there?"

"I'm not as high-maintenance as I look, Yael. Don't let these soft hands fool you." He smirked, holding them out. "I told you I grew up in construction. I love it. Can't wait to get a hold of the original crown molding, give it a good sanding, especially after I had to beg the lead contractor to let me assist on a couple things. When my mind is on overdrive like this, physical labor works wonders."

"Similar to what baking does for me."

"But with a worse smelling result."

"Wait. I thought you weren't a fan of the building? You make fun of it every chance you get."

"The CEO in me wasn't, still isn't. Handyman me loves it."

"You have many layers, Castañeda ."

"No, no, no." He clutched a mocking hand over his heart. "I can't stop the dirty, inappropriate comebacks begging to burst free. It's too much."

Yael laughed. "When have you ever held anything back?"

Like flipping a switch, his mood sobered, but he still managed a wink. "Since I discovered you're seeing someone."

The admission swept through her in a hot flash. Yael allowed herself a moment to enjoy it before locking it down.

"I should go. I'm going to be late." She gave him a small wave, moving over to hail a cab. As the car pulled up, she felt Casey's eyes on her. "And I know exactly what you were going to say about me peeling off your layers."

His chuckle followed her as the taxi drove off, and a smile tugged at her lips. Casey was trouble. Changing gears, Yael concentrated instead on girding herself to meet Haustin's kids.

So who are we liking Yael with? By herself? Haustin? Casey?