“Maybe because you saw yourself being happy with someone else,” he suggested.

“Even if I did, it’s over now.”

“Then why don’t you meet the rest of the men I picked for you?” he suggested. “Finish what you started. You told me when you first came home from New York that you wanted to rebuild your life with a fulfilling career and a stable relationship. You have your business. Maybe the man you are looking for is still out there, too. What do you have to lose?”

• 25 •

SAM took a seat beside Royce in the boardroom at Alpha Health Care’s head office. No wonder Royce had pulled out all the stops at the party. Everything was designed to impress, from the soft leather furnishings to the expensive artwork, and from the spectacular brass-detailed cherrywood boardroom table to the Chihuly glass sculptures on the credenzas along the wall.

“Would you like a drink?” The hostess handed him a leather-bound menu that listed thirty flavors of tea and a wide-ranging selection of coffee and other beverages. “Today’s special is chai.”

“Nothing for me.” He was as unworthy of his traditional food as he was of the relationship he had so utterly destroyed.

“Double espresso and a brioche,” Royce said. “Light on the butter.” He leaned back in his Eames leather chair and grinned. “I could get used to this, so don’t mess it up. If I hadn’t convinced Peter your girlfriend was crazy, we would have lost the contract after what happened at the party.”

“I think the fact we got it had less to do with your skills of persuasion and more to do with the fact he was already high on angel dust and champagne and couldn’t even remember his own name.”

Peter Richards joined them a few moments later with the HR managers from the five hospitals that were about to be downsized. Royce and Sam stood to greet them.

“Claire, Julie, Paul, Andrew, and . . .”

“Karen.” Sam shook Karen’s hand. Of course she’d landed on her feet. Karens always did. “We know each other.”

“Sam.” A smile spread across her face. “I didn’t know you got the AH contract! Congratulations. I’m so glad I bumped into you at the fountain the other night. When you mentioned AH might be looking for extra HR personnel, I sent in my résumé and here I am! I owe you big-time.” She squeezed his hand. Hard. Letting him know exactly how she wanted to pay her debt.

While snacks were served, Sam distributed the paperwork he’d prepared. After Nasir had called to let Sam know that Layla had turned down his offer, Sam had moved back into the office, but it wasn’t the same. He missed their snarky banter and her teasing smile. He missed the smell of the chai Layla prepared every morning, the boxes of donuts he ate only when she wasn’t looking, and the blind dates that had taught him more about her than the men they’d met. He even missed the purple chaise.

“We’ve been through all the financials,” Sam said. “We recommend cutting approximately six hundred jobs as part of the reorganization. That’s about five percent of the Bay Area’s thirteen thousand five hundred–person staff, spread over five hospitals and one hundred and eighty clinics. Each hospital will be responsible for identifying individual employees for layoff. We’ll work with the HR manager of each hospital to make sure there are no legal or PR issues with respect to the termination of individual employees, and assist in the meetings.”

Over one hundred of those jobs were going to be cut from St. Vincent’s—many of them likely people who had supported Sam’s career and helped him during his residency. But Alpha Health Care was running a one-billion-dollar loss, and if they didn’t restructure, all the hospitals and clinics would have to shut down, and not only staff, but also patients, would suffer.

“The board of directors has decided the layoffs won’t affect any medical professionals,” Peter said. “Surgeons, doctors, nurses, and nurse practitioners will all be exempt, so don’t include them in your assessments. We don’t want to lose our best talent.”

A sudden coldness hit at Sam’s core. His main goal in securing the contract had been to access Ranjeet’s employment file. He’d sacrificed other opportunities for this chance. He’d lost Layla. And now he wouldn’t be able to give Nisha the justice she deserved? Could life really be that cruel?

“I wouldn’t recommend any exemptions,” Royce said quickly. “This is a perfect opportunity to dig up skeletons, identify underperformers or employees with disciplinary issues, as well as those who might be a liability risk.”

Sam threw him a grateful look. Royce hadn’t judged him when they’d finally talked after the party, although he didn’t understand Sam’s need for justice. Life was simple for Royce. It was all about the money. And since there was no financial advantage to seeking the truth, he thought it was a waste of time.

“If you feel strongly about it, I can take it back to the board. I’ll have an answer for you in a few days.”

“Do that,” Royce said. “We have a few more restructuring contracts to finish up so the timing works for us. And tell your hospitality people to try Chez Michel for your brioche. This one is exceedingly dry.”

* * *

• • •

“ARE you sure this is the place?”

Layla studied the worn FLAMING TANDOOR sign above the doorway of the rundown building on Geary Street while Daisy tapped her computer on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, that’s it,” Daisy said. “I don’t know why you agreed to meet him in the Tenderloin.”

“Sometimes the best food can be found in the roughest neighborhoods.” She drew in a ragged breath. This was her first bachelor interview without Sam, but if she was going to run her own business and move on with her life, she needed to know she could handle anything herself, including finishing her father’s list, just to assure herself that her soul mate wasn’t still out there.

“Okay.” Daisy sighed. “Bachelor #7 is Salman Khan. Age thirty-three. He owns the Flaming Tandoor restaurant. It has four reviews. All bad. Comments include: ‘Is it possible to give negative stars?’ ‘Dear police: Guess where the All India Boys street gang is hiding?’ ‘Five days. Both ends. Broke the toilet.’ And ‘Bitch. I’m gonna find you.’”

“That doesn’t sound so good.”

“No.” Daisy smacked her lips. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I don’t think this is your Westley.”

“Well, he’s seen me through the window, so I can’t back out now.” She waved to the man who was approaching the door. “Quick. What else do I need to know about him?”