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like it’s my fault.”
    “You’ve been playing with me all week. Please tell me I have your business.” I couldn’t find any energy left to try for charming.
    “You have my business.”
    I was close to weeping with relief. “Thank you. When can you meet me to go over the details? I also need a full business plan for our review.”
    “Eight tonight?” He named a bar near his place.
    “Done. What?” I prompted at Charlie’s look of disbelief after I hung up.
    “I’ve never heard you talk to a client like that.”
    I shrugged. “Max Donovan’s special. If I’m going to have to jump through his hoops, I don’t have to act happy about it.”
    “Whatever you say.” She shifted off the desk. “Nice work, boss lady. Now please tell me you’re going to change before Tilt tonight.”
    My eyes squeezed shut. “Shit. I just arranged to meet Donovan tonight.”
    “Tonight? As in, after work hours?”
    “Yeah.” A bit of defensiveness crept in. “We meet clients after hours all the time.”
    “In that case, you’re off the hook. If you give him my number.”
    I raised a brow. “You’re joking, right? Sometimes I can’t tell.”
    Charlie backed toward the door, an impressive feat given the furniture and her four-inch heels. “Yes, I’m joking. He’s all yours, but only because we’re friends. Don’t waste him. Hot nerds are freaks in bed.” I started to protest but she cut me off. “Now go home and please, for the love of God, shower. If Donovan gets close to you, he’s not giving you his business or anything else.”
    I took Charlie up on her suggestion to freshen up my look after I got home. After showering, I broke out a straight iron to smooth my naturally wavy hair. The black patent heels were swapped for flaming red ones. Some pink lipstick that was a little bright for day got slicked over the neutral. I told myself it was because I liked the color, but it all felt like my battle gear.
    Gerard had arrows. I had power heels.
    Portfolio update had been the high point of the day. Jamie was thrilled about Donovan. Even Armand gave me a grudging nod.
    Avery stared holes in me. Maybe he’d figured out his underwear were too small.
    In the absence of luxuries like sleep and hygiene, that moment had been enough to sustain me the rest of the afternoon.
    “Hi, Paybear.” My mom slid into the passenger seat next to me when I pulled up in front of her building. “You look nice, honey.”
    Mom had had me young, and we had the same long, glossy hair and hazel eyes. People mistook us for sisters, which might’ve been due to the similarity in our looks or the way we laughed when we were together. It was clear to anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention how close we were.
    “Hot date?” my mom asked as I navigated the streets.
    I thought of Max Donovan. “Not exactly.”
    “Please tell me you’re at least having fun.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
    “I’m having lots of fun. I win ten bucks a month on scratch bingo tickets. Just last week, I helped Charlie make a castle out of Avery’s unsigned expense claims at lunch. And, thanks to one of my clients who works for an indie production company, I get episodes of that reality show Who’s Your Daddy four days before they air.”
    “That’s not what I meant and you know it. There must be guys at work.”
    I thought of Avery. “You’d be surprised.”
    “Maybe I’ll have to set you up with someone.”
    “You know all the eligible twenty-somethings, Mom?” I teased, stopping for a red light.
    “Watch your mouth. I’m not that old, and the women at group have sons. Maybe I’ll get you to drive me every week instead of carpooling.”
    “Deal.” I hit the gas, pulling into the late-rush-hour traffic that was as heavy as it was familiar. “You find me someone under forty with a crew cut and post-1960 attitudes toward women, I will gladly drive you to group every week.”
    “I could find you a tattoo artist or a dancer.”
    I sent her an