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emotional and professional is what I do.”
    “Yes, that’s why we hired you.” She stood up and ran her hands down her pencil skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Shall we head over to the conference room?”
    Adam studied her for a moment, then stood and stepped around the desk. “If you like, I can put together a list of local practitioners. There are some very good marriage counselors in the Portland area. Let me make some phone calls for you, okay?”
    Kendall seemed to hesitate, then nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I also appreciate your discretion. With everything.”
    “Discretion is my middle name,” he said. “Let’s go to the conference room.”
    They walked in silence down the hall and around a corner to a narrow corridor. Kendall paused at a blue door, hand on the knob. She turned back to Adam and offered a small smile.
    “You ready for this?”
    Adam nodded. “Let’s get this party started.”
    She gave a weak smile, then turned the knob and pushed into the room. Adam was three steps behind her, his eyes scanning the room for familiar faces. He noticed a thin man wearing a blue suit and a dark scowl, and Adam tried to smile at him. The man looked startled, then gave a stiff smile in return.
    His gaze moved next to a man and a woman in blue hospital scrubs with arms folded over their chests. Defensive posture, nothing unexpected. Adam smiled at them, too, and they nodded in greeting. A man in khakis beside them offered the first real smile Adam had seen. Bolstered by that, Adam slid his gaze to the corner of the room where two women sat conferring over a stack of paperwork. The brunette had glossy hair that fell over her face, while the redhead had something vaguely familiar about her posture.
    About the freckles on her arms and the gold pendant around her neck.
    A family heirloom.
    She’d worn it eight years ago on their wedding day.
    Adam froze. All the blood drained from his head, and he heard it rushing past his ears. His hands went clammy, his mouth felt dry, and he gripped the back of a chair to keep from falling over.
    Amelia looked up at him, her expression stunned and blank.
    The other woman followed suit, her blue eyes locking with his and flashing shock, then horror.
    Those same blue eyes he’d seen flash with pleasure two nights ago.
    Adam opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.
    International terrorist.
    Supermodel.
    Aromatherapy expert.
    And a member of the bargaining team I just flew 2,100 miles to assist.
    Adam took a shaky breath and stepped forward, hand extended to his ex-wife, brain locked on the woman whose perfume still lingered on his hotel pillow.

C hapte r T hree

    “I don’t understand,” Amelia said, folding her arms over her chest the instant they were alone together in the hall.
    The second his ex-wife had recognized him, she’d asked for a few minutes alone with the mediator, hustling Adam out of the room before Jenna or the rest of the bargaining team could do more than offer bewildered nods.
    Now, Amelia stood staring at him with a frustration as familiar to Adam as the hives he got when his mother visited. He clenched his fists, willing himself not to speak until he felt calm.
    It could be awhile.
    “How the hell could you not know I worked here?” she demanded.
    “Well gee, Amelia, maybe because I moved on with my life and don’t spend a lot of time worrying about what you’re doing with yours,” he began, then regretted the immature snap in his voice. Christ, she always brought it out in him.
    No one can make you behave a certain way, he reminded himself, repeating the words he’d uttered to so many people locked in contentious relations. You’re the only one who controls your response to someone.
    Fuck you, he told himself, but swallowed and tried again. “Look, I had no idea you worked here,” he said. “I heard you moved west, but that’s all I knew.”
    “It’s my field , Adam—hospital administration. Wouldn’t you at