I pinch a fry between two fingers and swipe the tip through a mountain of ketchup. Mr. Fellows sits across from me at the patio table, completely devouring his cheeseburger as if he’d never eaten one before in his life.

I’d laugh but I don’t want to break the silence. For now, we’re relaxed. Laid back. No shop-talk. Just enjoying the good food and the warm sun with an old friend. Not at all bickering over his son-in-law’s horrible, piece of sh—

“So, Phoebe…” He crushes the paper wrapper in his hand and drops it on his now empty food tray. “Did you have another chance to look over Bradley’s book?”

Ugh.

I grab at my soda and take a sip from the straw to buy a little more time while I figure out how to put this delicately.

“Yes,” I answer. “I did.”

He sits back and runs a hand through his thin, silver-speckled hair. “And?”

“Well…” I exhale. “I think it has potential.”

“Potential is good!”

“But there’s still a ways to go before I would ever consider—”

“I want you to make this your baby, Phoebe,” he says, pointing a stiff finger. “Every moment of spare time you have needs to go into making this series worthwhile. If it’s not up to your standards, I want you to personally work with Bradley to get it there.”

I cringe behind my smile. There were really only two possible outcomes to this. Best case, he dropped the thing completely and I could get on with my life. Worst case, I’d have to polish the turd. I hoped so hard for the former but I guess I already blew my good luck charm at the reunion last week.

“Mr. Fellows, I mean no disrespect, but don’t you think there’s a better use for my time than this project?”

“Not if you’re serious about the New York promotion,” he says.

It’s honest, blunt, and manipulative. The trifecta of an impatient boss.

I swallow, forcing my smile to stay on. “In that case, then I’m your girl, sir. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will. That’s why I like you, Phoebe. You get shit done.”

“Thank you,” I say, reluctantly accepting the compliment. “I’ll check with Jackie, see if I can’t fit in a few phone meetings with Bradley over the next few weeks.”

He twitches at Jackie’s name. “Just do what you gotta do, as I always say.” His phone buzzes on the table. He takes a look and sighs. “I have to get going. They just moved my appointment from four to two…”

“Go ahead,” I tell him. “It was nice seeing you again.”

He stands up and grabs his jacket off the back of his chair. “You’re doing a great job, Phoebe. Every day I’m more sure I made the right call putting you in charge out here.”

“Thanks.”

He walks off, leaving me to pick up his trash but I guess that’s part of my job now, too.

Phoebe Pink. Professional turd-polisher.

Dammit.

* * *

I step off the elevator, taking slow steps to make the trek back to my office as long as possible. When I get there, I’ll have to check my schedule. I’ll have to find time to call little Bradley Dumbfuck, kiss his ass, and try and fix his travesty of a novel.

Jackie looks at me from her desk and instantly sits up. “So, how’s Marty?” she asks.

I ignore the sultry spike in her tone as I grab the new mail from a stack on her desk. “He’s just as determined as ever to give Bradley his moment of bestselling glory. Told me to make this project my baby.”

She winces. “Gross.”

“So, I’m just going to go in there, sit down, and…” I sigh, “read it again to try and come up with ways to fix it.”

I move toward my office but Jackie leaps from her desk to block my path.

“Lipstick,” she says.

“What?”

“You have a guest in your office and I think you might want to touch up your lipstick.”

I raise a brow. “Who?”

She snatches my purse from my hand and ruffles through it until she finds my lip balm. “You didn’t happen to bring an extra pair of panties, did you?”

“To work?” I blink. “Why would I?”

She snatches my chin and guides my face up. “Hold still.”

“Jackie…” I try not to move as she smears the balm along my mouth. “Who is in my office?”

The door swings open and she quickly dodges out of the way as my heart plunges into my stomach.

“Hey, Phoebe.”

I press my lips together, smoothing out a small clump of color as I look up at him. Black suit, blue tie, and those unforgettable green eyes.

“Max,” I squeak.

“Thought I heard your voice out here.” He looks between us. “Do you mind if we talk for a second?”

Jackie kicks my shin.

“Okay!” I quickly adjust my volume. “Yeah, no problem.”

Max moves back to let me into my office. Jackie follows but I motion her away as I turn and reach for the doorknob.

She gasps quietly. “You’re gonna make me miss this?”

I jut my chin at her and she rolls her eyes as I close the door.

“So, uh…” I clear my throat. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No,” he says. “A few minutes.”

I roll my fist and pound once on the office door.

“Ow!” Jackie gasps from the other side. “Ugh, fine.”

Max grins. “Well, she’s nosey.”

I shrug. “It’s her job.” I take a long and deep breath as I make my way toward my desk. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to ask you if you’d like to come to dinner with me tonight.”

The letters slip from my hands to the floor.

“Argh jer, what?” I mumble, feeling my tongue pulse and flex out of shape.

Max chuckles and drops to one knee to scoop the envelopes up. I don’t move. Why can’t I move?

He stands and lays the stack onto the edge of my desk. “I had a great time with you at the reunion last week,” he says. “A really great time, actually.”

“You did?”

“Didn’t you?”

“Oh, no. I did,” I say. “There was definitely some great… in that time.”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” he says. “And about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

My heart thumps harder. “You’ve been thinking about me?”

“You seem like an interesting person, Phoebe,” he says. “I want to get to know you more. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Oh, no, I do.” I nod. Repeatedly. “There are some very hard feelings here. I mean — not hard. I just mean, yes. I…” I bite into my tongue and exhale. “Yes, I would like to get to know you more, too.”

He smiles through it all. “That’s a relief. I was actually kind of nervous about coming here.”

I laugh too hard and a snort comes out. I cover my nose and mouth as blood destroys my cheeks. “Nervous? Why?”

“After you left last week, I kind of…” he shifts on his feet, “whipped out the old Belle Academy yearbooks.”

I gulp. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I peeked through them — all four years — and I noticed something really odd.”

“What?”

He gestures at me. “You’re not in them. Anywhere. Other than the portrait sections, you’re not in any clubs or events. The caption under your senior photo actually says not pictured.”

“Pretty sure I submitted a quote from Mark Twain,” I say, crossing my arms. “Guess Sally didn’t think it was funny enough.”

“It’s like you didn’t exist,” he says, looking down. “And I realized that was probably intentional. We didn’t exactly welcome you back then, did we?”

I don’t answer. Judging by the look on his face, he already knows what I’d say anyway.

“Phoebe, I’m sorry,” he says. “You’ll never hear that from any of them but I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Why?”

He smiles. “Because I can tell that it means something to you. You wouldn’t have come home with me that night otherwise, right?”

Heat fires through my cheeks again and I drop my face to the floor. “I don’t know what you mean—”

Max steps forward and kisses me before I even know what’s happening. He rests his palms on my cheeks, holding me there while his lips take mine over and over again. I kiss him back, feeling my body ignite as I lay my hands on his hips.

He pauses, breaking our kiss to breathe. “Go out with me tonight,” he says. “If that’s too short notice, I’m happy to reschedule.”

“No, tonight is fine,” I say, twitching. “I don’t have plans. Or… is that lame? If it is, then, yeah, I have plans but I can move them around for you.”

“Thank you.” He laughs. “That’s very considerate.”

“I try.”

He crushes our mouths together again and I lean back to keep my balance on my desk. The stack of letters tumble to the floor again but we ignore it in favor of each other’s tongues.

Max Monahan is Frenching me in my office.

Oh, wow.

“Do you like sushi?” he asks, our lips barely parting.

“Yes,” I breathe.

“I know a good place. Best damn gyoza in Hollywood. If you give me your address, I can pick you up at seven.”

I hesitate, looking down as warning bells wail around in the back of my head. “Uh…” I shift back and he drops his hands from me.

“What?” he asks, smiling. “What’d I say?”

“Nothing.” I wipe the side of my mouth. “Actually, can we meet there instead?”

He nods. “Yeah. Sure. If that’s what you’d prefer…”

“It is. It’d just be easier for us if we need to… you know, leave separately or something.”

He pauses. “Okay…”

I sigh, cursing my lips as they keep moving. “That’s just something that happens to me a lot.”

Max nods, his eyes never quite leaving mine as he lays a finger beneath my chin. “Well, if it makes a difference… I can pretty much guarantee that won’t happen.”

My voice cracks. “No?”

“In fact, you might want to bring a toothbrush.” He guides my face upward and he lays a soft kiss on the edge of my mouth while I silently let it sink in. “But I’m happy to meet you there, if that’s what you want.”

“Okay,” I squeak.

He takes a step back and licks his lips. “I’ll leave the info with your assistant.”

I nod. Repeatedly. “Sounds good.”

His eyes trail down my body like an animal smelling blood as he steps backward toward the door. “I’ll see you tonight, Phoebe Pink.”

I smile. “I’ll see you tonight, Max Monahan.”

He grins back and steps out, softly closing the door behind him.

As soon as he’s gone, I move toward the couch by the wall, auto-piloting myself over until it’s safe enough to crash land on the thing. I plummet face-down onto the throw pillow, filling my lungs with just enough air to let out a single muffled scream.

Max Monahan was in my office. Max Monahan kissed me and asked me out to dinner and… hinted sex?

What the fuck just happened to me?

The door bursts open and slams just as quickly.

“What the fuck just happened to you?” Jackie asks.

I sit up, slumping back. “That is an excellent question.”

She holds up a business card and flicks it at me. “He’s taking you to Kitano’s.”

The card topples onto the floor by my feet. I reach down to pick up it. It’s white with raised, black print. Max Monahan. Attorney at Law. I turn it over to read a handwritten note.

Kitano’s. 7pm. Ask for Yoko. M.

“Never heard of it,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Well, of course, you’ve never heard of it. I have and I also know that it’s impossible to get a table without selling your soul months in advance.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit.” She pauses and takes a whiff of the air. “Wait, what else happened in here? I sense sex.”

I shove the pillow against my face again, cutting off the shriek as it fires out of my throat.