1

      CAT MCCADE drove her gleaming black Harley into the restaurant parking lot, gunned the motor, then let the bike glide to a stop in a no parking area. She peeled off her black helmet and shook out a waterfall of straight blond hair that fell to her shoulders. Once she’d dismounted, she removed her jacket, slung it over her shoulder, and strode toward the front door on long, leather-clad legs.

      It was Friday night and Cat could feel the eyes on her as the noisy patrons of the Atlanta Tex-Mex restaurant turned to look as if a television star had entered their midst. She ignored them, searching for Bettina, who would have a table and margaritas waiting. She could always depend on Bets.

      From the time Bettina had hired Cat as a photographer for the models in Bachelor in a Box, they’d been friends. She’d gone on to become very successful in supplying phantom bachelors for women without permanent mates. The client selected a photograph of her fictitious lover and a “relationship” was established wherein Bettina sent gifts, letters and placed telephone calls to make it all seem real. The only problem was, on her off hours Bettina used her matchmaking efforts to arrange real relationships for her family and friends. And that included Cat.

      “Cat! Over here.”

      Waiters and patrons stood back, allowing Cat to move through the crowd to her friend who was waving at her from a table in the corner. Bettina was drinking something pink and slushy. At the other place was a mug edged in salt and filled with an icy-green liquid.

      Cat sat, picked up the mug and took a sip. “Not bad, Bets.”

      “Best margaritas in Atlanta and you know it.”

      “Ah, Atlanta, our hometown. No place like it. But by Monday I’ll be in San Antonio along the River Walk, drinking the south-of-the-border variety.”

      Bettina gave her a look of bemused disbelief. “You just got here and now you’re leaving? Of course you are. You never stay anywhere long enough to unpack.” She tilted her head. “You know, I often wonder what you’re running from.”

      “Not from,” Cat amended quickly. “To. There’s a whole world out there, ready and waiting for me to find it.”

      “And what’s it?”

      That stopped Cat for a moment. “It is my job,” she said. “I’m a photographer. I enjoyed the architectural shoots and nature studies but, quite frankly, I got tired of being an assistant, and I’m just not into bugs and wild animals. What can I say? I like the comforts of hot water and good food. And being able to sleep in my own bed at night—alone.”

      “So