Chaz’s restaurant was the last on Liv’s list, and by the time she pulled up to the back door, it was after six. The door was ajar as usual, but the reggae rhythms Chaz liked to have blaring from the loudspeakers were gone, and instead the muted sound of piano music could be heard.

The restaurant was always closed on Mondays; maybe Chaz was auditioning some new entertainment.

Lifting a case of wine from the back of her pickup truck, Liv moved toward the kitchen door. Shoving it open, she walked in, set the case on the stainless steel counter, and left to get a second case. A few moments later, finished with her delivery, she glanced around the kitchen, wondering where Chaz and Louie were. Chaz’s bookkeeper, Louie, who had no life unless comic book conventions counted, was always at his desk in the back of the kitchen crunching numbers.

Everything was strange enough that rather than barge into the dining room where the music was coming from, she opted for discretion. Chaz might be hitting on some female piano player. He hit on every good-looking woman who came into range. “Hey, Chaz!” she called out, figuring she’d let him know she was here, and he could respond or not. “Delivery!”

The piano music abruptly stopped.

Whatever he was doing apparently allowed for interruptions. Moving toward Louie’s desk to drop off her invoice, she placed it in his in-box.

“The delivery people dress better around here.”

Spinning around at the low, husky tone, she saw a tall, dark, more than ordinarily beautiful man instead of blond, boyish Chaz standing in the doorway to the dining room. “Where’s Chaz and Louie?” she asked, ignoring his comment as well as the approval in his quick, raking glance. She was used to men looking at her like that.

Jake glanced at his watch. “About now, I’d say Chaz is in the Miami airport waiting for his flight to Saint Barts; Louie’s on vacation.”

Liv gave him a questioning look. “And you are?” Although she was pretty sure she already knew, a second glance having confirmed her suspicions.