“Oh, come on, Jenna! You can’t do this! You can’t let that jerk win!” Carrie threw her hands in the air with exasperation. She was fully dressed when I got home, her strawberry-blonde hair pulled up into a tight, smooth bun and her makeup practically flawless.

As soon as I walked into the apartment, I yelled dramatically that I wasn’t going on the date. She rushed out of the bathroom demanding to know why, so I told her.

I told her it was because Jude was right. I wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about him and this date wasn’t even going to compare to Sundays.

Carrie wasn’t having it. She hadn’t had a night off in weeks, so she wanted this night out. She worked hard as manager of one of the hottest lounges in Malibu that she didn’t have the time to do much else. She had a day and night schedule. She hardly even had time to spend with Brad. She took this Friday off just to hang out with me and I was ruining it. I felt horrible.

“Come on,” Carrie whined, grabbing my hand and tugging on it. “He’s your boss, Jenna. He’s not your boyfriend. You don’t owe him a damn thing. How is it you can watch him talk to that Michaela bitch, but you can’t will yourself to go out for tacos and tequila with a really hot guy? That’s, like, the perfect date.”

She had a point. “I don’t know, Car. I just—I don’t know! He gave me a look before I left, like he would be disappointed or hurt if I did something with someone else.”

“Well, guess what!” she snapped. “That motherfucker doesn’t own you! Outside of the office, you are Jenna fucking Taylor and you run the show. You aren’t on the clock and for God’s sake, it isn’t Sunday, so get your ass in the shower, get dressed, and let’s go get some tacos. I’m fucking starving.” She pointed at my bathroom door and I let out a small laugh. I loved her to bits and pieces. She knew just how to cheer me up and always had the perfect pep talk.

Plus, she wasn’t the only one starving. I needed food. Stat.

“You know what?” I stood up, going for the outfit already hanging on my closet door. “You’re right. Screw him. He’s not my Keeper. Tonight, I’m going to meet Tyler. He’s too hot to pass up.”

Carrie winked. “That’a girl. I’m gonna finish getting ready. Let me know when you’re done showering so I can style your hair.”

“Okay.”

She was out of my room and walking back to hers. I went to the bathroom and started up the shower. Before I got undressed, I heard my phone chime and went for it. I thought it was going to be a text from Tyler but it wasn’t.

It was an email from Jude.

Subject: Tell me where you’re going

I need to know where you’ll be. Restaurant? Bar? Where?

Judas Clement,

C.E.O of Clement Architecture

I chewed on my bottom lip, debating whether to return his email or not. Why did he want to know? Seriously, it was none of his business.

Subject: Re: Tell me where you’re going

I’m not on the clock, Mr. Clement, therefore I don’t need to fill you in on my whereabouts right now. But just to give you a little peace of mind, it will be taco and tequila night. I’m very excited about it, too.

Jenna Taylor

Executive Secretary of Clement Architecture

He responded almost immediately.

Subject: Re: Re: Tell me where you’re going

Well from now on, you’re always on the clock. Tell me where your date will be, Jenna. Don’t mess with me and don’t drink too much tequila. I know how you get when you’ve had too much.

Judas Clement

C.E.O of Clement Architecture

I had to laugh out loud at that one. Don’t mess with him? When he messed with my heart daily. Oh, please. I clicked away.

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Tell me where you’re going

I know you remember how I get when I’ve had too much tequila. You called me your naughty girl because I did everything for you when I drank it on our second Sunday. Can you imagine me drinking it tonight? I wonder just how naughty I’ll get for my date…

Unfortunately, I don’t clock in until tomorrow morning, so I won’t be filling you in about where I’m going or what I’m doing. And even at work, I won’t really have to tell you because telling you about what I do outside of office hours isn’t a part of the job. Don’t think so? Let’s take it up with HR.

Have a good night, Mr. Clement.

Until tomorrow morning,

Jenna Taylor

Executive Secretary of Clement Architecture

I knew that was going to sting. Hell, it stung me and it wasn’t even directed toward me. But maybe he would get a taste of what I felt. Feeling lost and confused. Feeling like I wasn’t enough. Letting someone else steal the shine, when really, we were the ones who should have been put on display for the entire world to see.

With that response, I was even more eager to get to my date. I took a shower and got dressed as quickly as I could, then called Carrie in to style my hair. When she was finished and my ensemble was complete, she stepped back and looked at me, smirking.

“Now you are one fine-ass bitch,” she said.

I broke out in laughter. “Is Brad meeting us there?”

“Yeah, he’s about to leave his place now so, come on! Let’s get going. Because of your pity party, we’re running late.”

“Okay, but you’re driving,” I told her. “I won’t even attempt to drive in these six-inch beauties.”