“Well? How is my working woman?”

“Who? Oh, me? I’m good.”

I open the door for Jess and let her in. She’s still in her work clothes.

“That bad, huh? The boss really cracking the whip already?”

“I mean, yeah. Kind of. I like it and all, but it’s very exhausting.”

“At least you work regular hours. Nine-to-five. That’s not so bad. Wait until you move up and you have to work crazy hours. Imagine how busy you’ll be when you become Editor-In-Chief.”

She kicks her black pumps off and flops onto the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and flipping on the TV.

“Oh! Jeopardy is about to start,” I say, sitting down next to her.

“You know, I always thought you’d be on Jeopardy someday. You’re so smart.”

Not smart enough to stay away from Drew Anderson.

“I’m not smart. And anyway, it’s all trivia. I don’t know all the little details about presidents and 18th Century poets, and all that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Anyway, I like Wheel of Fortune better now. I used to like Jeopardy, but now I’m a wheel watcher.”

“That’s a sign you’re getting old. I remember always sitting down with my grandma for Jeopardy and Wheel. The younger people always like Jeopardy, and the older people always like Wheel.”

“Old? Because I like Wheel of Fortune? That’s a new one.”

“Think about it.”

I get up and start into the kitchen to grab a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine. I still can’t believe that Drew got me to drink beer - and do other things.

But I’m not about to go out and buy beer now. That would be too drastic a change for me.

I’m already doing things I know I shouldn’t be doing.

“How’s the man?”

My face flushes and I turned to the sink to wash my hands, an attempt to divert my attention away from Jess.

“Huh? Can’t hear you over the running water.”

“You’re so full of crap. Drew. How is Drew doing?”

“He’s fine, I guess. I wouldn’t really know.”

I pad back over to the couch with my after-work libations and pour two generous glasses for me and Jess.

Jess’s eyes light up and she tucks her legs under her, taking a glass of wine eagerly from the table.

“Something happened. Did you have sex with him?”

“God, no!” I reply, but I know that I’m incapable of lying to my best friend even if I want to.

Jess sips her wine coyly and looks up at me through thick, dark eyelashes.

“Oh, okay.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”

“How do you have sex with someone a little? You either did it, or you didn’t. And I can tell that you definitely did. Go ahead and deny it. It’s fine. Just make sure to Skype me from the penthouse when you move in with him.”

“Okay, first of all, no one is moving in with anyone. Second of all, it isn’t going to happen again. And third of all, you don’t even know what happened.”

She tosses her hair behind her shoulder and inspects her fingernails.

“Then what is it, exactly, that isn’t going to happen again?”

“Okay. Fine. Something did happen.”

“Tell me! What did you mean when you said that you had sex with him a little? Does that mean you didn’t do it in a bed? Where’d you do it? His office? Bent over his desk?”

“No!”

“Your office?”

“Shush!”

“It’s not like anyone can hear us. It’s just us girls. You think your boss is hiding in the bathroom and he’s going to pop out and say, surprise! You’re fired because you fucked the hottest guy this side of the Mississippi in your new office?”

“I didn’t.” I take a large sip of my wine. “Okay, fine! I did. We had sex. Not sort of, not a little, not kind of. We did it, okay?”

“This is exactly what I told you to do, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I have to say that I did do what you told me to do this time.” I grab the remote from the table and turn up the volume. “Shh, Alex is on.”

“Your man Trebek is going to be there after we talk. Turn that off. We have important things to talk about. Right now.”

She grabs the remote from me, mutes the TV and puts the remote behind her back.

“You know, in the old days, I would have been able to get up and turn the volume up. I don’t even know how to do that on this TV.”

“You’re too nostalgic, you know that, Molly?”

“Yeah. I’ve been accused of that before. By you.”

“So where is he now? Why isn’t he taking you out to a fancy restaurant tonight? A gala? A ball? Isn't that what those Anderson types do every night?”

“I don’t know what he does every night.”

“But you know what he did at least one night, no?”

“Yes. And I also know it’s not going to happen again.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It was a fling. He is going to be gone soon, and as much fun as it was, I can’t afford to get hurt again.”

“Why not take a chance, Molly? He obviously likes you. And I don’t think I should have to remind you that you should really get back out there.”

“So what? So, he likes me. I don’t know why that has anything to do with it. Guys like anything with boobs and a vagina.”

“That’s so romantic.”

“I mean, you know who he is. This,” I say, gesturing around the small, stuffy apartment, “is not for Drew Anderson. He might like me now, but remember that this is not his real life. He is going to go away, and go back to work and his real life. Maybe he’ll even go back to his fiancee.”

I take a long sip of my wine and feel the cool calmness of the alcohol steady my nerves.

“You’re acting like he lives a million miles away. He doesn’t. It seems to me that you’re just looking for reasons why it won’t work between you, when it’s obvious that it’s at least worth a shot.”

“So, what, we date for a little while? Six months? A year? It’s not like we are going to be together, so why not just skip all the pain and get to the inevitable?”

“I understand that you don’t want to get hurt again. But you have to take a chance. This isn’t like you. What happened to the tough-as-nails bitch that I know? Think about it. You got this awesome job, you got this apartment, you graduated with honors from one of the best journalism schools in the country.”

“But what if I’ve been wrong all along about what I want?”

Maybe Drew is right. Maybe I don’t know what I want. My whole life, I’ve ushered myself into a narrow path. Go to the right schools, get into the right college, the right grad school, the right job. I even had the right boyfriend, but now that seems like so long ago.

“What do you mean? You have it all, Molly. Every single thing you’ve set your sights on, you’ve been able to achieve. It’s actually pretty infuriating.”

Jess smiles and puts a sympathetic hand on mine.

“And if you aren’t sure this is what you want, why don’t you start reevaluating exactly what it is that you’re going for?”

She doesn’t have to say anything else. I know what she means. She means that I should be figuring out what I want, starting with Drew Anderson.

“Not every guy,” she adds, “is going to be like Thomas.”

There it is. The unspoken name, the elephant in the room, the guy who said that he would be with me but who unceremoniously broke up with me after college to go do his own thing in California.

He told me he didn’t like New York anymore. That after a lifetime of subway rats and greasy pizza, he wanted to move to California where the sun shines all year and there isn’t the perpetual threat of a blizzard around the corner.

I reminded him that the summers in New York are as hot as the winters are cold, but that wasn’t enough for him.

He didn’t want to listen to me. He packed up his Volkswagen and drove away.

He didn’t even really do anything wrong. He never treated me badly. He never cheated on me. But I took it harder than I should have, because he was my first boyfriend, and I never got those relationship mistakes and heartaches out of the way when I was in high school.

It was like I dove right into the deep end and never went through the water-wings stage.

“I'm just not so sure that the first guy I need to jump into a relationship with is Drew Anderson.”

“Why not? It seems like he has a lot of great qualities. Even though they may not be what you think you want, maybe you should examine what you want a little bit closer.”

“That's what he said to me a few days ago. He asked what I really wanted. And I didn't know how to answer.”

“And don't you think that's a little bit funny?”

“What do you mean by funny?”

“Not funny ha-ha, but ironic.”

Jess reaches behind her back and unmutes the TV just in time for Alex to read the Double Jeopardy categories.

Drew Anderson doesn't want a girl like me. He wants a girl like Clarissa. A girl who is going to look good next to him, a girl that his dad will love, a girl who can keep up with him and his lifestyle. It's a lifestyle I’ve never been introduced to.

I know it isn’t acceptable for me to be giving myself over to him, at least not for anything more than a hushed fling.

It doesn’t fit in with my plan. Even a thorough reevaluation of my plan would never reveal that I should be with Drew.

And I know, deep down, he probably feels the same way.