By the time the end of the day rolls around, my eyes are burning from staring at my computer screen. I’ve been working on my design ideas for the Lavin campaign all day but so far nothing I’ve come up with is good enough.

My eyes stray to the clock in the upper right corner of my monitor. Milo is expecting me to come over tonight to work on our campaigns together. In theory that sounds like a good idea but then when you break it down, I have to remember that he is still my competition. Our ideas are going to go head-to-head and Mr. Lavin can only pick one of them. So why should I give up my ideas to him ahead of time? We’ve built a temporary trust between us but I’m still not ready to put all my eggs in that basket. It’s better if I develop my ideas independently so there can be no misunderstandings later.

Mr. Lavin is going to love what I come up with. And I don’t want anyone else trying to take credit for my ideas.

James pokes his head in from the hall. “How are things going?”

“Great. The research we did before the meeting has been useful. I’ve come up with several possible directions we could take for a bridal campaign.”

“Fantastic. I haven’t heard anything else yet but once Mr. Lavin is ready to move on this, I’d like to be able to accommodate his schedule.”

Which is a subtle warning to get it together in case the client asks for a meeting out of the blue. No pressure or anything.

My phone blares the raunchy lyrics to Big Sean’s I Don’t Give a Fuck About You and we both pause in shock. I grab my bag and stick my hand inside hoping and praying that for once I’ll find my phone quickly amidst all the junk in there.

I Don’t Give a Fuck About YOU. The volume is even louder now that I’m holding my bag open.

James coughs slightly. “Right, I’ll check back in with you later. I have a meeting.” He’s trying to talk over the sound of the music but it’s nearly impossible.

“No problem, boss. I’ll put together a draft campaign for you to review by the end of the week.”

I Don’t Give a Fuck… my face flames as I continue to rummage through my bag… About YOU.

James is still smiling when he walks away.

My office door is wide open and one of the interns from Kevin’s department scampers away when I look up. Damn Ariana and her crazy ringtones. Every time I leave my phone around her, she programs in whatever song captures her current feelings. I guess she was feeling nihilistic last time. By the time I find my phone the ringtone has finally stopped.

Ari: Drop whatever you’re doing. I’m off work early and in the mood for margaritas.

It’s not like Ariana to get off work early or to text me about it. Which means that she had a really shitty day. She’s a pediatric nurse so her bad days are really bad. If she lost a patient then I definitely don’t want her to be alone. The thing about Ari is that she’ll never admit when she needs someone.

Mya: K, on my way. I’ll take the metro and come to you.

I turn off my computer and grab my bag and coat. It’s not like I was getting anything done anyway. Maybe a margarita is exactly what I need to cut loose.

Twenty minutes later I’m getting off the metro at the Foggy Bottom station. As soon as I come up the escalator I see Ariana waiting. Her face looks pinched and tired and she hasn’t changed out of her scrubs yet. Things are definitely bad if she wants to go out for drinks without changing first.

As I approach I hold out my arms and she accepts the hug.

“Hey girl. Thanks for coming. I should have known you could decode my bat signal.” She hooks her arm through mine and leads me through the throngs of people clustered around the escalators leading to the metro below ground. I follow her lead, assuming she knows where she’s going. This is her turf not mine. Mirage’s offices are in Georgetown.

“It was the getting off work early part that gave you away. Your boss never lets you off early.”

“Technically she didn’t let me off early this time either. It was the attending physician who told me to take off.” She pulls me through a doorway and I look around the dark interior of the restaurant.

Ari takes a seat at the bar. “I’ve heard this place has the best tapas in the city and their margaritas are so strong that just one will have you spilling your secrets.” She points to the menu on the bar and orders two strawberry margaritas. Soon, we’re both sucking down the sweet liquid and it feels like all my stress is just melting away.

Ariana sighs. “Today was a rough one. I’m not sure if this is the right fit for me. It takes a really thick skin to see all this suffering and not be affected by it.”

“You’re a great nurse, Ari. As crazy as you are, you have the biggest, squishiest heart. Those babies are lucky to have someone like you to take care of them. Especially the ones whose parents can’t be there.”

Ari volunteers her time in the neonatal unit when she’s off shift to hold and snuggle the babies whose parents can’t visit as often. Some of them live too far to get to the NICU often and others have to work so hard just to afford the medical bills. So Ariana comes in and fills the gap, so those babies have someone there for them.

“Enough about me and my bad day. I want to hear all about you and Happy Hour Hottie. You’ve been so quiet all weekend. You never even told me how the trip went.”

“The trip was great.” I smile brightly but I should have known that wouldn’t fool her. Ariana can smell drama from a mile away.

She gasps. “Did you actually take my advice and have a little fun?”

It’s weird to talk about this because I don’t even know what Milo and I are doing. We’re fake engaged at work but we’re also supposed to be keeping things professional. This mental yo-yo is taking a toll and we’ve only been back at work for one day.

“The meeting with the client was a disaster.”

Ari sucks down the last of her margarita as I recount the whole tale. By the time I reach the end, she waves her hand at me to continue.

“That’s it. We lied, and now the entire office is gossiping about us.” I decided to leave out the part about Milo pledging to show me what good sex is supposed to be like.

“Girl, some shit going down with your job is NOT why you’ve been whistling a happy tune since you came back. Either you found your own Magic Mike while you were down there or you did the nasty with Happy Hour Hottie. So which is it?”

I lose my grip on my margarita glass and almost spill what’s left. “Damn! Is it that obvious?”

“Um, do you really want me to answer that?”

Glumly, I stare into the remains of my drink. “How did this whole thing get so complicated? Everything was going wrong and then I ended up in his hotel room. And then everything was going right. Now I’m not sure what’s up with us. It was so awkward seeing him today.”

“Look, I know you won’t listen to my advice but there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun with your sexy co-worker. You’re both adults and no one is getting hurt. It sounds like you’ve both been honest about what you want from this. You got your heart broken and now you’re just having a little fun. Hot, sweaty sex is the cure for heartbreak.”

The bartender chooses that exact moment to come back and check on us. He grins at Ariana’s words. She points at him with one red lacquered nail. “Don’t you agree that hot sex is the best cure when you get your heart broken?”

He takes one look at her almost-empty margarita glass and immediately starts making her another one. “I think that would cure just about anything, sweetheart.”

Ari looks at me with an I told you so face. “See? Big, muscly bartender man agrees with me.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Because of course taking sex advice from a random guy in a bar sounds like a good idea. “But this is not me. I don’t do stuff like this.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

I can feel my cheeks heating. “Definitely. That man is a beast in bed.”

Ari holds her margarita aloft like a trophy. “Yes! I knew it. My girl finally got it right.”

Her words settle over me and I roll them around my brain. Did I get it right? Ari is always saying I need to stop overthinking everything and just have some fun. That’s never been easy for me. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always liked to have things planned out and organized. A list of goals for every area of my life. But I had a checklist that included finding the perfect guy and getting married and look how that turned out.

According to all my lists and rules, Milo is the last person that I should spend time with. He’s impulsive and reckless. Allergic to commitment and just out for a good time. But you know what? I never had as much fun with “perfect” William as I did with Milo. Not just the great sex but everything. Even just talking to him was more fun than I’ve had in a long time.

Which scares the hell out of me.

“You know what? You’re absolutely right,” I announce, pushing my now empty margarita glass down the bar.

Ariana pauses with her straw halfway to her mouth. “I am?”

“Yes. I do need to get out there and have some fun. I definitely need to stop worrying about what the men in my life want and start thinking about what I want.”

That includes Milo. What the hell does he think he’s doing kissing me and telling me to come to his place after work? He’s a pro at this casual sex thing and leaving emotion out of it is probably second nature for him. Well, it’s not that easy for me. I have to take care of my own needs from now on. And getting attached to Milo in any way is not a smart move. If William had the power to hurt me, someone like Milo would crush my heart into a million pieces.

“So what are you going to do?” Ari asks finally.

“I’m going to have some fun. And another margarita.” I raise my finger signaling the bartender for another drink.