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Sure, he’d met a pretty girl, but there were lots of good-looking women. He didn’t usually think about them many hours later.

He usually didn’t think about them at all.

So what was it about this woman that had him still remembering her all this time later? Hell, he didn’t even know her name, although she knew who he was.

He’d voluntarily stopped dating last year after an especially hellish breakup. He’d decided to take some time to figure out what he wanted out of life.

Maybe he’d gone too long in between women, if his reaction to this one was any indication.

Note to self. Get out of the house more.

He’d do it, too. Soon. Eventually. He just had some things he needed to do for the firm first.

Determined to concentrate on his workday, he grabbed his laptop bag from the passenger seat, locked the car, and strode toward the elevator bay. The garage was nearly empty, his footsteps echoing off the damp concrete. By the time he reached the elevator, he’d rehearsed the conversation in his head twice. He’d simply be honest.

Sam stepped out of the elevator and immediately scanned for Leigh, but her desk was empty, which was unusual. Leigh was known for arriving at seven in the morning. On the dot. She was punctual as hell.

Her desk appeared untouched. No sign of the morning routine. No steaming travel mug, no folded local and national papers stacked side by side, no croissant on a paper plate. Her laptop was closed, and her chair was pushed in all the way. Her desk was tidy, but that was Leigh. She always straightened things before she shut down for the evening.

He went through to his own office and fired up his own laptop, checking Leigh’s calendar. Perhaps she had an appointment this morning and hadn’t mentioned it to him.

Nope, nothing.

This didn’t feel quite right. Leigh was never late, and if she was, it was because of a legitimate reason, like a doctor or dentist appointment.

Picking up his phone, he called down to the main reception desk in the lobby. Gwen picked up on the second ring. She liked to get in early so she could leave at three and pick up her kids from school.

“Hi, Gwen. It’s Sam. Has Leigh come in yet?”

“No. I assumed she had an appointment this morning or was sick.”

Sam quickly checked his email. There was nothing there from Leigh either. If she were out sick for the day, she would have sent an email or left a voicemail for him. She always had for his father.

“Let me know when she gets here,” he replied. “She has an appointment at eight, so she should be in soon.”

“I’ll keep a lookout,” Gwen promised. “But the weird thing is, her car is in the garage. Her usual spot. She must have left it here last night.”

That didn’t make any sense.

“Are you sure it’s her car? If it’s here, she must be here.”

“It’s her car,“ Gwen assured Sam. “She has those personalized plates. She probably rode home with someone else last night.”

The truth was, Sam didn’t know much about Leigh’s personal life, and as far as he knew, no one did. Her work was her life; she spent most of her time at the office, and each year she took her six weeks of vacation time in two lots of three weeks each. He was aware that she had friends or maybe family in Boston whom she visited, but that was it.

He’d never known her to date or even have a hobby that didn’t have to do with Winslow Financial. He was a little ashamed to admit that he’d never questioned that either. She’d been a loyal employee for almost thirty years, and he’d never thought about what Leigh did on the weekends.

Or who she might have met at the office and then ridden off with for the evening.

He thanked Gwen and tried to work, but there was that annoying little voice in the back of his head that wouldn’t give him peace. It kept telling him that Leigh was as much a creature of habit as he was. They’d had that in common.

Two kindred souls who thrived on repetition and routine, walking into the building early in the morning, coffees in hand. They’d exchanged greetings and ridden up the elevator together, making small talk until it came time to separate when they reached the top floor.

Leigh turned right to the old man’s corner office, and Sam turned left to his own smaller but still luxurious office, because he was the old man’s son. Even if the old man didn’t give a shit that Sam worked there.

People who liked their routines didn’t suddenly change them except for good reasons. Tapping on his laptop, he pulled up Leigh’s HR record and found her cell phone number. He’d call her and apologize for being worried. She’d tell him that she’d left him a note or something, and the cleaning crew must have thrown it out. They’d laugh, and she’d tease him about it for a while. She’d be amused that he’d been concerned when she was a grown woman who had taken care of herself pretty damn well for thirty-plus years.

Her phone rang and then went to voicemail. He left a message, although he wasn’t sure anyone listened to their voicemail anymore. Then he sent a quick text, too, although he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. He didn’t want her to think he was mad or nosy. He was just… a bit unnerved.