My advisor got back to me over the weekend with some notes about my grant proposal, so Monday morning I go to Insomnia Café to finish it up once and for all. The past ten days have been a rollercoaster of events and emotions; today I can take some comfort in getting back to the familiarity of the sunny coffee shop and my grad school work. While I can’t say I’m over Archer, I’ll at least be distracted from my thoughts about him for a while.

I’m sitting at a corner table, typing away at my computer, when I become aware of someone standing next to me.

“Is this seat taken?”

I look up and my mouth falls open.

Archer takes my silence for a “no,” and slides into the seat across the small table from me.

God damn him. I was just adjusting to the idea that Saturday would be the last time I ever saw him, and now I have to start all over again.

“How did you know I was here?” It's not the most eloquent response, but it’s all I can come up with on short notice.

“It's where we met, remember?” he says. “This coffee shop where you go to study all the time. I saw an intriguing woman engrossed in her studies and asked if I could sit with her.”

I narrow my eyes. “We met in Cassandra's office.”

He shrugs. “I like the other version better. Cassandra fired me, by the way,” he adds conversationally.

I wince, remembering the nasty review I wrote about his performance as my escort. It gave me a small measure of satisfaction, but now it feels petty and vindictive, and I’m ashamed of myself.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I’ll write her back and tell her that you did a good job.”

“It doesn't matter. I don’t really want to work there anymore anyway. That's not why I'm here.”

I lean back in my chair and sigh. “All right, fine. Why are you here?"

He leans forward, earnest and sincere looking. “Because I want a chance to tell you what that weekend at the lake was all about.”

I stare at him, trying to look as neutral and uncaring as possible.

He continues. “Alex and I really did have a big fight, and she really did ask me to leave for the weekend. That was true.”

I concede with a nod. Having talked to Alex at the club, who said the same thing—about a dozen times, along with assuring me that they were just friends—I believe this much.

Archer takes a deep breath. “And yes, I was hoping to somehow score a meeting with Zac. Your Aunt Mila told me he was a friend of the family’s, and I figured that if I got to know you all and made a good impression, maybe your parents would be good contacts.”

I’m not surprised, but hearing my suspicion confirmed sends an unexpected dart of pain through my chest.

“Is that why you slept with me?” I ask in a low voice. “Settling accounts?”

He shakes his head vigorously. “No. Look, I admit it crossed my mind.” He looks at the ceiling for a moment, then runs his hands through his hair. “You know I hate being in debt, but that wasn’t what it was. I like you. I more than like you. Those days at the lake …” He stops, apparently too overcome for a moment to speak.

“The time we spent together at the lake,” he continues again, his voice hoarse, “it was like seeing what a relationship was supposed to be like for the first time. Not this quid pro quo thing, you do something for me, I do something for you. It was just two people trying to make each other happy. It was the first time I’d ever been in a relationship like that, and … it was amazing. And frightening. And … great. I want to see where this could go, Annabelle.”

For a moment, I'm almost swayed. Then I remind myself that he’s a good actor.

I save my document and close my laptop, which gives me a reason to look away from him for a moment while I try to collect my thoughts. I turn to look him straight in the eyes again.

“How was your screen test?” I ask, keeping my voice cool.

He glances at his watch. “Actually … it ended about five minutes ago.”

My eyes widen. Apprehension prickles my scalp. It’s at least a half hour drive from Zac’s studio to here. “What do you mean?”

He looks at me evenly. “It was for 9:30 this morning. Or it would have been, anyway. I called them to say I wouldn't be able to make it in."

“What?” The apprehension turns to a cold stone in my stomach. “Archer, they're not going to just let you reschedule something like that. Zac doesn’t have any patience for people who can't keep their commitments.”

He nods. “I understand that. I guess I just had a more important commitment to keep.”

I put both hands up to my mouth. I can’t believe he doesn’t comprehend the enormity of what he’s done. “Archer, that was your big break.” I shake my head and grope in my purse for my phone. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you did this. Look, I'll ask my dad to talk to him—Maybe I could even call him myself, I’ll tell him I had some kind of emergency—”

Archer reaches across the table to grab my hands. “Stop. Annabelle, it's okay. I don't want it, not if it comes at the cost of losing you.”

His words barely register. “You idiot!” I say the words loudly, and a few coffee shop patrons turn their heads to look at us curiously. I quickly lower my voice. “It could be years before you get another shot like this! What the hell were you thinking?”

He just smiles. “I was thinking it would be worth it if I knew you cared about me.”

“Of course I care about you, you dummy!” We’re attracting attention again, but I’m barely aware of it. “I want you to succeed. You’ve worked too hard to throw a chance like this away for me!”

“Annabelle,” he says, still smiling, “I know two things: one, that I'm a really talented actor, and that someday, I'm going to be a huge success, whether I ever get a screen test with Zac Borstein again or not. And two, that I love you, and that nothing is worth losing your trust or respect over.”

I can’t answer. My hand is pressed to my mouth and my eyes are filling with tears. I’m simultaneously appalled at what he’s done and deeply touched.

“… Oh, my God, Archer … I don’t know what I can do to make this up to you.”

He shakes his head again. “This isn’t about making up, or paying back, or anyone owing anyone else anything. I made this decision, and I’ll live with it. But,” he continues, “if you’d be willing—free and clear, with no feeling of obligation—I would like to ask for a second chance.”

I’m not sure if I can trust my voice, but I try. “Like how?” I choke out.

Archer's smile softens. “So, I walked into this coffee shop, and I saw this really intriguing woman sitting by herself with a laptop and a notebook,” he says again. “I decided to take a chance and go over and talk to her. When I glanced at the notebook, I could see she’d written out all these really complicated formulas and I thought, man, this chick is way too smart for me—” he shakes his head a little, “—but I took a chance and asked if I could sit at her table. We started talking and … we just hit it off.” He pauses for a moment. “How does that sound?"

I finally make a dive for a napkin and wipe my eyes. It’s a moment or two before I can get my voice to work again properly.

“I can’t believe you blew off Zac,” I sniffle.

“Hell with Zac,” Archer says evenly. “Do you think there’s a future for us?”

I nod and finally manage a smile through my tears. For all my accusations on Saturday that he must want something more from me, I know I don’t really have anything else that he could want—except myself. “I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“Good.” He leans forward and drops his voice. “What if I told you I know a soundproof room not too far from here?”

I laugh and kind of sob at the same time. “Seriously?”

He shrugs. “Well, it’s not literally soundproof, but Alex won’t be home from work until five-thirty, and I’m unemployed. How about you? Any deadlines?”

I shake my head. “Just finishing up my grant proposal, but I still have a couple days before it’s due.”

His eyes sparkling, he gives me that panty-melting smile that made me weak in the knees the first time I met him and raises a suggestive eyebrow. I push my laptop aside and lean across the table to kiss him.

Around us, several patrons of the coffee shop, who’d tuned in to watch the drama unfolding at the table in the corner, clap a little, but I hardly notice. My head and my heart are too full of Archer.

Several hours later, we’re in my bed, sweaty and satiated. We took full advantage of Alex’s absence to make as much noise as we wanted, and it was glorious.

Does fantastic sex make up for missing out on the biggest opportunity of my career?

No … but the smile on Annabelle’s glowing face does.

Giving up my screen test with Zac wasn’t an easy decision, but now that it’s done, I’m content with it. It’s not only reassured Annabelle that she’s my priority, but in an odd way, it’s liberated me. The transactions that dictated my life felt necessary at the time, but they never felt fully right. In giving up the screen test, I’ve also given up my transactional approach to life.

Annabelle snuggles closer to me, and I kiss the top of her head.

“One thing I still don’t understand,” she says, “I'm impressed you remembered about the coffee shop, but how did you know I’d be there this morning? Wasn’t it an awful risk to take, blowing off the screen test, if I might not even have been there?"

I pause for a moment, not sure how much I should say. “I had a little help,” I admit. “But I'm not at liberty to say who.”

Annabelle laughs quietly. “I bet it was Carina.” She shakes her head fondly. “She's such a softy.”

I don’t reply. Annabelle's a smart cookie; she'll figure it out sooner or later. For now, I'll keep my mouth shut. I don't think she'd appreciate me letting the secret out, but beneath Brianna Winter’s icy exterior beats the heart of a hopeless romantic.