“Honestly, Andrea, I wasn’t sure about going there, but…you know what? Fuck it. I’ll say it. I regret bringing you on as an intern.”

I sat with my hands folded on Steve’s desk. Amy had given me the heads-up that he was none too happy about the previous weekend’s events. I was receiving, as Amy had so diplomatically put it, my “first official ass-reaming by the boss,” a right of passage at Green PR. Apparently, those other times had just been a warm up.

“I’m sorry. I will do better next time.” I did my best to sit there with a calm smile on my face. Steve stared back at me with his mouth wide open.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?”

I cleared my throat. “Jake has been a tough nut to crack. But I am one hundred and ten percent confident I can turn this around.”

“You’re goddamn right you’d better turn this around. This is a fucking mess! Honestly, ever since you’ve taken on Jake as a client, his image has taken a massive nose dive! Our name is being dragged through the mud with this latest disaster. If we were paying you to tarnish his reputation, along with ours, you’d be doing a great job. Fucking fantastic. You expect to get hired on by Green after your internship if you tarnish his reputation?”

I did my best to control my breathing. I would be out on my butt in one second if Steve knew the full truth about Jake and I. “No, of course not—”

“You’re goddamned right, we won’t! You’re not getting it done, Andrea.”

This was not good.

Why did the one guy I hooked up with in Chicago—no, the only guy I’d hooked up with since Grant and I broke it off—come with the longest list of complications I could have possibly found in this entire city? A city that probably held millions of single men.

“Steve.” I rose from my chair and leaned, my palms on his desk. “I’m sorry this campaign hasn’t been going perfectly. But this isn’t the kind of thing that happens overnight. Especially when the subject himself isn’t on board. But we’re getting there.”

Steve stood up as well, his face as serious as I’ve ever seen. “Andrea, I like you. There is a reason I gave you a chance as an intern. I saw some promise. I did. But when I’m getting ten emails an hour from Mr. Yerac and the front office specifically pointing out precisely where Jake Napleton’s campaign is going wrong, it doesn’t bode well for you.”

“What exactly are you saying, Steve?”

“I’m saying that if you have any more fuckups, not only are you off this account, but you are going to have to find a position elsewhere.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about the “social media” position awaiting me in Sugar Tree. If I was going to live at home again, it was going to be on my own terms.

Not because I failed here in Chicago.

“I understand. I won’t let you down.”

“I’ve heard that before. Words don’t mean a whole lot without action behind them.”

I nodded and walked out of his office.

I felt stressed out, but the worst part was that there was nothing I could do to change Jake’s ways, and that was just what the campaign so desperately needed. The man was as set in his ways as a grandpa. He loved having the frat boy/partier/just-one-of-the-guys image, not the family-man philanthropist one.

I sank into my desk chair with a sigh. I stared blankly at my black computer screen for a few moments without moving the mouse to unfreeze the screen saver.

“That bad, huh?”

Amy had snuck up from behind me again.

“What time is it?” I asked, spinning around in my chair to face her.

“It’s quarter to ten. Why?”

“I need a drink.”

Amy burst out laughing, then stopped herself. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. But I thought you were joking since it’s a little early on a Monday morning…” She paused as I sat there, depressed and freaking out, and stared at me for a beat. “Damn, you are stressed out...but it’s something else too, huh?” she asked, too observant for words.

I nodded, feeling overwhelmed. I had to tell somebody, talk it out because I was so confused and didn’t know what to do. But not yet. I had to figure out a way to turn this around as soon as possible, or I was out of a job. Not just out of here, but maybe this whole city.

“Margaritas at five?” I begged.

She nodded sympathetically, then went back to her cubicle.

What was it about this job and its correlation with me having to drink margaritas?

We were in our favorite spot at Valentino’s Pub again, which seemed crowded for a Monday. A day’s work was finally over and done with, and I had managed to avoid Steve at all costs. Actually, pretty much everyone in the office had left me alone, and I’d worked my butt off with press releases and communicating with various media outlets, trying to soften things. I’d kept Jake updated on my end of things and reminded him to keep a low profile. So far, he seemed receptive, but it was hard to tell through emails and texts.

Amy sat across from me, her mouth completely agape, with a ridiculously silly expression on her face. This wasn’t surprising, seeing as how I had just told her the saga of how my Friday night had ended up.

“You slept with the sexiest man in Chicago, then kicked him out of your house through the window. Oh my God. I am so jealous right now I want to puke. Not really. But I am a little jealous. Happily jealous. Because it’s you and you’re like the nicest person alive.”

“You haven’t noticed any pens missing yet?” I joked.

“Come to think of it…” She arched an eyebrow toward me, and we both broke out in laughter.

“So let me get this straight, though. The sexiest player in the league personally ended your no-O streak, and you repaid him by giving him blue balls, then kicking him out of your room?”

I protested. “Whoa, now you’re making me out as some kind of bee sting. I didn’t want to blue-ball him. We just didn’t have any condoms. Also, what no-O streak? I take care of me.”

“Oh wow, not even one margarita in, and we’re having the O conversation. Glad to hear that. And I just meant that you could have at least, you know”—Amy paused, as if searching for the right word as the server walked by—“helped him out.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, it just didn’t feel like the right time. We started cuddling and fell asleep.”

“So you didn’t even give him a dry hand rub?”

I nearly spit out my drink, I started laughing so hard. I held up a finger and wagged it.  “Okay, I think we all know if you give hand jobs, that means the terrorists are winning.”

“Okay, okay.” She cracked up. “We’re getting really far in the weeds with this conversation.”

“I’m not saying I’d never go down on him. It just wasn’t the right time.”

“I’m just saying, if it were me...”

“In other news, I was doing some research on Jake’s media campaign,” I said, not so subtly shying away from a conversational topic that was making me squirm.

“Nice try.”

“I’m being serious. I’m in crisis mode at work right now. My anxiety is through the roof. But I think I have a solution.”

“Do tell.”

“Jake has this whole other side of him that he keeps hidden.” Amy gave a short laugh at that. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. On the surface, he wants everyone to think he’s this dirty player and a frat bro and nothing else. I just don’t know why—at least, not entirely.”

“He was dating Kim Kardashian’s cousin last year,” Amy pointed out. “I don’t think that was an act.”

I remembered that, but it’d only lasted for a couple of months and, in the end, it was so obvious that she was only interested in his status as a ball player. “Well, even so. He’s actually a really solid guy.”

Amy raised her brows in disbelief before she focused on her drink. “Well, you would know more about how solid Jake is than most people would.”

“Ha ha. That’s so funny I forgot to laugh.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m being really serious right now. Steve was so pissed at me. He said if I have any more eff-ups, I’m out.”

“Wow, you’ll be off the project? That’d suck.”

Amy wasn’t getting it. “No, like out. Like I won’t be working at Green PR anymore, and I can look for a new job somewhere else with a huge scarlet letter on my resume while I try to find work.”

“Oh shit,” Amy said, blinking at me slowly. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” I shuddered, the image I had thought up earlier in the morning running through my mind again. I’d go back to Sugar Tree, and my mom would passive-aggressively tell me, I told you so for the rest of my life.

I couldn’t let that happen.

“So, don’t think me heartless or unsympathetic to your shitty work situation, and I’m really sorry you’re stressed and all that…but when are you seeing him again?”

“Amy! Why would you think I’d be seeing him again?”

She arched an eyebrow and gave me a big grin. “Oh please. It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone. Besides, I’m living vicariously through you to experience The Big Unit.” She leaned in and sucked on her straw. “Is there any...big reason you didn’t want to go down on him?”

“You have a one-track mind, you know?”

“People always tell me I think like a guy. Who knows?”

I sighed. “If you want to know the truth, Jake gets back from Jacksonville tomorrow morning. He said he wants to see me. Honestly, I want to see him—good Lord, do I want to see him—but my conscience keeps creeping in, telling me it’s not a good idea.”

“Damn it, Andrea!” Amy reached across the table and actually shook my shoulder hard. “You are so lucky right now! Tell your conscience to fuck off!”

It was so easy for Amy. I tried to unpack my own feelings, but for some reason, they stayed knotted up. I made my hands into fists and thought about the man who had left me in this untrusting, devastated state of mind, one where I still didn’t quite think that my own desires and feelings were mine to express.

I swallowed. I’d been talking around my reasons for breaking up with Grant to too many people for too long because I wasn’t proud of how I’d handled the whole thing. I realized it was time to come clean, but more importantly, I wanted to tell Jake everything about that relationship and stop holding back. But would I ever find my nerve? Worse, what if Jake thought less of me?