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precisely—or so she’d thought before getting the text that an emergency with one of his patients was keeping him late. If the guy had been her average businessman, she’d probably be put off that he hadn’t been on time. But Leo was actually saving lives, so it wasn’t like she could go getting her panties in a twist about it. Besides, what was thirty minutes?
    “Come on, one drink.”
    She checked the clock on her phone again. Twenty-seven minutes.
    “No, thank you,” she said, adding more tightness to her reply than she had the first time.
    The guy wasn’t being a flat-out jerk or anything, but not taking no was getting on her nerves.
    “Okay, but so you know, my friends are watching and I bet them I’d be able to talk you into a drink. We’re in sales, so this is kind of a big deal, if you know what I mean. You don’t want me to look like I can’t do my job, do you?”
    And now with guilt?
    No. She wouldn’t reply.
    But instead of walking away, the guy planted an elbow on the bar and signaled the bartender. Which meant he’d just given himself license to hang out until the order was up.
    Whatever. She was closing in on the high score. Three more veggie skewers and—
    “So, Hibachi Catapult, huh?”
    Maggie closed the game and turned to the guy, trying to figure out what she could say to put him off without having to be a total bitch about it, when a set of broad shoulders wedged between them and a deep voice that did a not-so-welcome thing to her belly cut in.
    Tyler.
    “ ’Scuse me, buddy. Think my friend here is saving me a seat.”
    Friend?
What a laugh.
    Three hadn’t been able to spare her a single insult since their cookie incident at Ford’s.
    Mr. Sales straightened, a look of irritation flashing across his features as Tyler leaned into the bar.
    “Hot Doc running late?”
    He knew about her date? Of course he did. But only because diarrhea of the mouth was something of an epidemic with her friends.
Their friends,
she grudgingly amended.
    He wouldn’t have cared himself.
    She slanted a look at him again.
    No, he wouldn’t. And she didn’t care even if he did.
    “Got stuck at work. But he’s coming,” she stressed. “What are you doing here?”
    Hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, he nodded toward the band. “Guy I know through work is playing.”
    He glanced back at the drink pusher. “Saw you come in and figured I’d make sure you weren’t getting hassled or anything.”
    She shifted uneasily. “Thanks.”
    “So what’s the story?” he asked, not looking at her. “You have an ETA?”
    There’d been a time when no way would Three have let the obvious jab go unthrown. He’d have been on her about getting stood up. About an imaginary date from the Niagara Falls area or keeping her expectations realistic. About keeping the faith. But now? Nothing but polite.
    Detached.
    “He was supposed to be leaving the hospital fifteen minutes ago, so it should really be any time. You don’t have to stay.”
    “I’ll go if you want. Or I can stick around until he shows up.” With a nod down the bar, he added, “Keep the flies off.”
    Her suitor was still watching, like he was expecting another shot. And if she told Tyler to take off, that’s exactly what she’d be giving him. She didn’t want to owe Three a favor, but…“Don’t think this gets you off my cookie blacklist.”
    His chest rose and fell in a way that looked suspiciously like he’d given in to one of those single-breath laughs. Sliding onto the stool next to hers, he said, “ ’Course not.”
    A minute passed and she checked her phone, uncomfortably aware of Tyler beside her. It was as if half her body had gone prickly. As if someone was holding one of those statically charged balloons a millimeter over her skin and she knew at any second it was going to make contact.
    Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “This is weird. Sitting here not talking to you is making me