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“Really?” she repeated.

Mary laughed. “What are you, a parrot now?”

“No. That is, sorry. I just woke up. I’ve been up in Altadena since Saturday morning covering the fire. There wasn’t much time for sleep. I’m not even sure what day it is,” she joked.

“Tuesday.”

“Tuesday!” she cried. “I’ve slept an entire day away.”

“That’s breaking news for you,” said Mary. “Do you want me to give my managing editor your number?”

“Yes. Yes, please do. And thank you,” she said.

“You don’t have to thank me. Just blow him out of the water.”

“I will,” she promised.

“Good, because I’m getting tired of being the only one on the desk who knows the difference between Max Factor and Elizabeth Arden or why a daycare center opening is a big deal.”

Theresa said goodbye to Mary, hanging up the phone.

Praise from her editor. Lunch with the managing editor of a rival paper. Well, wasn’t that something?

“Nice towel.”

She looked up and found Matt standing at the open window of her living room. “Oh, this old thing?”

He grinned. “Mind if I come in?”

She went to unlock the door for him.

“Hi,” he said, holding up a brown paper bag. “I brought breakfast. I thought it was the least I could do considering we were interrupted last time,” he said, walking to the tiny kitchen counter, where he began unpacking eggs, bread, bacon, milk, and what looked like a fresh carton of orange juice.

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly aware of how ravenous she really was. “I took a shower when I got home and apparently slept for thirty-six hours.”

“That would explain why you didn’t answer when I called,” he said over her shoulder.

“You called me?” she asked.

“A few times. I was worried that… I don’t know. That you might be embarrassed.”

She walked over to him and slid her arms around him to hug his back. “Not embarrassed.”

She felt him exhale, and then he turned in her arms. “Good.”

He lifted her chin and kissed her, long and slow, until she sagged against him.

“You know, I wasn’t going to come down here this morning, but Adele told me that if I didn’t stop moping around and ask you out again, she was going to write me out of her will,” he said.

Theresa laughed. “Did she really?”

He nodded. “Apparently she thinks you’re good for me.”

“That’s funny, she said something similar to me.”

“Well, in that case, how do you feel about letting the newly minted heir of a modestly successful plant nursery and commercial rose-growing business make you breakfast?” he asked.

“Do you know”—she went on her tiptoes to kiss him again—“I feel pretty good about that.”