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Nick’s hands tightened on the steering wheel

Memories were all they were, foolish shadows of a dead past, and they made no sense because he wasn’t in love with the woman in those ht down to it Holly, herself, had been an illusion A fantasy, conjured up by the lonely kid he’d once been

He needed closure

Nick alood old US of A Every two-bit TV talk show, every tune-in-and-spew-your-guts radio shrink, went on and on about closure And, yeah, du that the seventh anniversary of his failed e hadn’t affected him How could he not be affected by the death of a dream?

Nick shifted his long legs Okay He’d go to the mountain, spend a few days, and find ‘closure’ He’d bury his me cas sorted out The mountain was Nick’s, but there’d been a rider attached to the deed, a ‘no commercial construction’ clause the owner had tacked on before he’d sold

No problem His people would find a way around the stipulation, and he would find a way around the memories He’d see the cabin, walk the mountain one last time—and then a construction creould co the land It would be the newest, finest Brennan resort in the chain and all the ‘closure’ a man could possibly want

And, in the process, he’d have himself a weekend off Tis No desk heaped with memos Not that he’d be cut off coh on top of a Verht-room penthouse, or three floors of office space on Fifth Avenue, but Nick had come prepared He had his cellular phone in his pocket, his portable computer on the seat beside him, and his wireless fax on the floor

The guy behind hiain

Nick felt his blood pressure zoo out of the Explorer,on theand asking the guy if he really, honestly thought things would go any faster with hi on his horn…

The breath hissed fros

Closure hat he needed, all right

He was angry at Holly, angry at hi years because he’d never had the chance to tell her the truth, that he’d never loved her, not really, that she wasn’t the only one who’d made a mistake