Despite the half-dozen trips I’d made to Manhattan, the scale of it blew me away every time.

On the West Coast, the most impressive infrastructure is of the natural variety. New York should be an engineer’s dream—steel and glass and concrete designed to hold and move and house millions of people. But I’d be the first to admit I had a hard time getting why people would line up to call it home.

I found my way on the subway despite Ava’s warnings that it was a man-eating maze, and three stops later I was back above ground. My phone GPS directed me to the building I needed, and I held the door for a mom pushing a stroller before following them inside the lobby.

The sign inside the fourteenth floor foyer announced Jackson Mansfield, LLC.

I’d first met Nate Townsend last year, before he and my sister had started dating. Then, he’d been working at his dad’s ultra-conservative firm in midtown. Though I didn’t know the whole story, he’d taken a new job this spring at a shop that was miles from his father’s—geographically and politically.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

The flirtatious voice came from the thirty-something woman sitting behind the front desk with the air of a captain commanding a pirate ship. Her dyed black hair was pulled into a ponytail. She had four studs in one ear and a phone wedged between her shoulder and the other.

I looked both ways to make sure she was talking to me.

“I’m looking for Nate Townsend. Am I in the right place?”

“Dammit!” she exclaimed, her brows pulling together as she slammed the phone into its cradle with no regard for whoever was on the other end. “All the good ones are gay,” she explained, flashing a mile of cleavage as she leaned forward. “I’m Krissy. I’m new.”

“Hi, Krissy.”

“So, are you?” she demanded, and I raised a brow. “Dating Nate Townsend?”

I waited until a man and a woman in suits passed by on their way to the elevator before lowering my voice. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Ugh!” She slapped a hand on the desk before rising from behind it. “I should’ve known some guy had him tied to a bed when he wasn’t here.”

I couldn’t come up with one single response to that statement, so I followed her down the hall.

“Here you go!” she chirped, pulling up halfway down the row of offices and sweeping her hands across the open door, game show style.

The man inside had a few years on me and wore the uniform like it was made for him—the pressed navy suit, and a haircut that probably cost more every month than mine did in a year. Nate looked up from his desk, cool blue eyes warming with recognition the second he saw me.

“Mr. Townsend, Mr. …?”

“Dylan,” I supplied.

Krissy winked at me before turning back to Nate. “Mr. Dylan is here for you.”

“Thanks, Krissy,” Nate said.

“Want me to shut the door?” Another wink.

“Yes. Fine.”

“She has a lot of personality,” I offered once we were alone.

“That’s one way of putting it. She just started last month. We’re all adjusting,” he said dryly. “Can I get you a drink? Coffee? I just bought an espresso machine.” Nate’s eyes brightened as his gaze flicked to a chrome contraption on the sleek file cabinet behind him.

“Nate. Are you hiding from Krissy?”

“I think she tries to count my balls through my pants every morning.”

“Ava would pull out Krissy’s eyes and shove them down her throat if she knew.”

“That’s why I keep them apart.”

“Ah, love.”

The first time I’d met Nate, I’d figured he and my sister would be the last people to hit it off. But seeing him and Ava together… They might’ve been from different worlds, but under the shallow arguments, they were completely in sync.

I dropped into one of the two visitors’ chairs in front of Nate’s desk. “Listen. Thanks for helping me line up those interviews for tomorrow. I know that when you offered to help last year, you probably thought I’d forget about it.”

Nate folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “Nonsense. Anything I can do. I know it’s competitive to get into an engineering firm right out of school. Besides, what’s the point of having family connections if you’re not going to use them?” He took a drink from the mug on his desk, watching me over the edge. “I’m curious, though. If this doesn’t pan out, what’s your plan B?”

“Huh?”

The shoulder of his suit lifted an inch, but his expression stayed friendly. “If you can’t find a job in New York when you graduate.”

My stomach tightened. “There is no plan B. This is the plan. I have to get a job.”

“Well, I applaud your confidence.”

“You think it’s crazy.”

His face split into a grin. “I think I’ve learned in the past year that you have to go after the things you want. Because they won’t wait around. Speaking of which, what about the other part of your trip?”

His face was a mask of concentration as I filled him in. When I finished, he shook his head slowly. “And you’re going to do that in…?”

“The next forty-eight hours,” I confirmed.

He wrote something on a pad of paper that had his name printed across the top, ripped the sheet off, and handed it to me. “I promised you a name. This guy, Ramone? Start with him.”

“You’re the best.” A notification lit up the corner of the computer display just behind Nate. Most of the screen was taken up by a complex-looking table. “What’s that?”

He turned to follow my gaze. “Billables. We have to account for every six minutes of our time.”

“Seriously?”

“Sometimes being a grown-up sucks,” he agreed.

“So you need to put something for the time I’ve been here.”

Nate glanced at the clock. “Two somethings, actually. I could put down ‘Mr. Dylan,’ but only if you want Mr. Dylan to get a bill at the end of the quarter.”

“In that case, let’s call it Operation Lockdown.”

Nate looked off into the distance. “Operation Lockdown. I like it. Sounds like special ops stuff.” I couldn’t stop the chuckle. Nate caught me. “Give it three years. When you spend most of your time in a suit behind a desk, you have to take your fun where you can get it.”

“Right. Well, this is for you.” I dug an envelope out of my pocket and handed it to him. “Thanks for your help, Nate. With everything.”

He set the envelope on his desk. “No problem. In another year we’ll both be living in New York, and I don’t see either of us going anywhere soon. We have to look out for one another.” He walked me to the door of his office. “Sorry I can’t take you for a drink right now. I have a corporate case this afternoon. This company declined to pay out this guy’s pension.”

“Good luck with that.”

“I don’t need luck. They’re bringing us an offer in—” he checked an expensive-looking watch “—about eight minutes. Which means they’ll be eating it in ten.” His eyes flashed with anticipation.

“That was fast.” Krissy craned her neck to see over the counter as I passed her desk on my way to the elevator.

“Operation Lockdown is a quick business.”

She smiled knowingly. “Which one of you fine gentlemen wore the handcuffs?”