Tom's fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. The conversation with Emma replayed in his mind, each word cutting deeper than the last. How could she have gone to Mark's company? After everything they'd been through, after all the promises they'd made to each other, how could she turn to her ex-boyfriend for a job?
He pulled out of the driveway, tires screeching against the pavement. The rational part of his brain tried to remind him that this was about Emma's career, not their relationship. But the emotional part, the part currently in control, couldn't shake the image of Emma and Mark together in that interview room.
Without consciously deciding, Tom found himself pulling into the parking lot of a bar he'd never been to before. The neon sign flickered we
