Trish laughed. “I’m sure they can.”

As pleased as he was to have made Trish laugh, he quickly sobered. “I don’t want to make light of this situation. I grew up with plenty of handicapped kids in the orphanage, so I know the problems they face.”

Whoa, where had that come from?

He rushed to change the subject even as Trish’s eyes widened in sympathy. “So while this problem is stupid and annoying, it’s not irreparable.”

She nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything, and Adam knew that if he could’ve kicked himself, he would have. He’d never made a slip like that before. What was he doing, talking about the orphanage to someone outside of his own family? It was none of the world’s business what his life had been like before Sally Duke had intervened. Sure, reporters had dug out the truth in the past, but he preferred never to discuss it at all.

“We’ll need the jet,” he said abruptly.

She blinked. “We have a jet?”

He simply nodded, then punched up his calendar on the computer. “Yeah, we’ve got a jet. I’ll need you to call and book it for Wednesday morning.”

She snapped back into business mode and began writing in her notepad. “Wednesday morning. Where and when?”

“Let’s make it eight o’clock. Leaving Dunsmuir Airport and traveling to the Fantasy Mountain airstrip. They’ve made the flight before. Let them know what you want for breakfast, and tell them I’ll have the usual.”

She looked up, mystified. “The usual? Wait. Breakfast? Me? Why?”

He grinned as she tripped over her words. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

She shook her head in exasperation. “You don’t need me to go with you.”

“Of course I do,” he said, breezing over her protest. He strolled to the wet bar, placed the coffee mug in the little sink, then casually added, “And pack an overnight bag.”