Brett's POV

I've been sitting in Murphy's Coffee Shop for twenty minutes, checking my watch every thirty seconds. The place is nothing like the restaurants I usually frequent. It has worn wooden tables, mismatched chairs, the smell of burnt coffee and fresh pastries.

It's perfect for what I'm trying to do. No power plays, no intimidation tactics. Just two people talking, that is if she shows up.

The bell above the door chimed, and my heart stopped. Riley walked in, scanning the room until she ...