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it. And that’s what she’d continue telling herself.
    “Anything else, Wallace?”
    “No, that’s all.”
    “Fine. Try to get something worked up by tomorrow morning’s staff meeting. We’ll go over it with the team then.”
    “Will do, boss.” He stood and made a quick exit.
    “Boss,” she repeated, grinning as she crossed the room and locked the door. Privacy should be easier to come by in her business. She returned to her desk, snatched the phone and dialed.
    One ring . . . two . . .
    “Hello?” a husky voice answered from the other end. No doubt Butch had been sleeping.
    “Can I speak to Erika?” Amy punched the speaker’s button, dropped the phone in the cradle, then tapped her computer keys to view the latest product statistics while she spoke to her friend. Her orange stallion vibrator was slowly but surely making its way to the top of the line and had crept past the fuzzy navel massage oil in sales. Cool.
    “Hang on. She’s walking on the beach. Want me to yell at her?” Butch sure didn’t sound like the romantic picture Erika had painted in her James Dean description.
    “If you could see if she’s nearby, that’d be great. You don’t have to yell—”
    Amy didn’t get a chance to complete the sentence. Butch evidently didn’t mind yelling. At all. She winced while he bellowed her friend’s name so loudly she was surprised she didn’t hear it in stereo, echoing all the way from Tybee Island to Atlanta.
    She listened to the two of them snap at each other, then heard the receiver clang as if dropped to the floor. “Erika?”
    “I’m here. Hold on. Butch, where are you going?”
    “Beer,” he answered.
    The unmistakable sound of a slamming door overpowered the line.
    “Sure. Why should today be any different?” Erika sighed into the phone. “Hello?”
    “It’s me,” Amy said, turning away from her computer screen.
    “Hey!” Erika’s voice took on an entirely different tone than a moment ago with Butch, as if she were actually pleased to talk to Amy. “How’s it going? Everything’s okay with Uncle Bill and the alibi, right?”
    “I’ve got a couple of things to tell you,” Amy said, “but first tell me if everything’s okay there. I thought you said he was your dream guy? The one you wanted to spend your life with?”
    “Yeah, I said that.”
    “That wasn’t what I heard,” Amy informed, as if Erika didn’t know she’d caught every word of their heated little exchange. “What gives?”
    “Oh, it’ll be fine. I’ve never been around him when he’s drinking quite so much. And he’s a little . . . different around his buddies. It’s biker week here, you know.”
    “I didn’t know.” Amy frowned. “Biker week” didn’t sound very romantic.
    “Yeah, they stop off at Tybee Island, then head on up toward Myrtle Beach for the big bash.”
    “Are you going to that too?” Amy asked.
    “Somehow I think he’ll be okay without me. . . .” Her voice trailed off.
    “Have you met someone else?” Amy asked.
    “No. I’m still crazy about Butch, even if I’m having a time trying to figure him out. Being with someone around the clock isn’t quite the same as dating. But everything’s going fine, really.”
    “Is it your mom?” Amy asked. Erika had been very emotional since her eighteenth birthday, appearing to miss her mother even more than before. Therefore, Amy didn’t want to do anything to upset her. She had been so excited about the chance at a romantic getaway with her true love. Unfortunately, Amy didn’t hear any of that excitement in Erika’s tone now.
    “I’ll be all right,” Erika said. “Let’s talk about something else. Was your sister okay with me hiring her? She didn’t mind, did she? I mean, she shouldn’t, right? It’s just another client, nothing really out of the ordinary from her regular job.”
    Evidently, Erika didn’t want to touch the subject of her mother, and that was fine. Amy was smart enough to let her friends talk