She'd said, "…In case you ever make it back to the States."

The phone numbers on the napkin practically glowed.

Back to the States.

He wanted to go back to familiar things. Like phone numbers. Like English language bookstores.

Like a brunette who was as beautiful when annoyed with him as she was when she was pleased. Whose smile brightened his day more than any Venezuelan noontime sun.

He could do this. With careful planning, he could make Abbott look good and then get back to Lisbon's side.

Grabbing the pen, he listed his terms. This was gonna be good.