I drop my head onto my desktop and whoop with laughter. “Of all the things I imagined going wrong with that particular conference call, the very last thing I thought would take place was me getting caught in the middle of a sex scandal.”

“I thought you handled that rather well,” Tracy says, her giggles mingling with mine.

I try to rein in my laughter enough so that I can breathe. “Sure. Now one of our oldest and most loyal clients thinks that I’m the kind of person who spends all their spare time looking at sex websites. I hate to think what they’re thinking right now.”

About the only good thing about the situation is that there’s very little chance I’ll ever run into any of the board members face to face. Even though the Many Miles Auto Parts has several branches scattered across the country and is currently in a state of growth, the company is based in Southern California. To the best of my knowledge, very few of the board members ever make it to my hometown of Tucson, Arizona. Thank God! Facing them through a computer screen after what just happened was bad enough. There’s no way I could handle a face-to-face encounter.

“Personally, I think it’s a good thing.” Tracy studies her manicure.

“How do you figure that?”

“Well, it makes you seem more exciting, a lot less buttoned up.” Tracy turns her attention away from her nails, redirecting it at me. “And isn’t exciting exactly the adjective that you want to pop into people’s minds when they think about this marketing firm? Exciting means we’re open to trying new things, that they won’t get the same generic material and ideas that other firms provide.”

I angle my head enough to glare at her with one eye as I continue to chuckle. “You do realize that it’s possible that there’s such a thing as too much excitement.”

“Nonsense,” Tracy snorts.

Struggling to compose myself, I sit up and shove my long, dishwasher blond hair behind my ears. “I’m going to remind you of this conversation when, instead of nice respectable things like law firms, auto parts chains, and dentist offices, our entire client base is made up of pimps, porn kings, and sex toy companies.”

“You say that like it would be a bad thing, but considering how much the sex industry is worth, I’d be happy to handle those accounts. Besides, they deserve high quality marketing as much as dentists and doctors do. Right? And don’t forget, we’re doing that pro-bono deal for that charity even that the adult store is hosting.”

“Right.” I’d completely forgotten about that project. It lends credence to the explanation I provided the board. If I’d been quicker, I might have even been able to come up with a way to get the board members to throw a little money to the cause the shop was raising money for. Talk about a missed opportunity. “I suppose this is nothing more than a funny little mishap. I just wish it hadn’t happened to me.”

Tracy throws herself down into the chair across from my desk and grins. “I don’t. This year, I’m going to be the one that has a great story to tell when I go to conferences. I can’t wait to tell them how my partner got embroiled in a sex scandal.”

“Don’t you dare tell them the real reason I was looking at that website.” I point a warning finger at her. “You’re my partner so I can’t threaten to fire you, but rest assured, if a single word of why this happened leaks out, I will do everything in my power to ensure that your life becomes a living hell.”

“Cross my heart, I’ll stick to the ‘researching a new client’ client story.” Tracy mimes drawing an X over her chest. “I still can’t believe that you’re having a problem. What do you do, fake it each and every time you have sex?”

Before I can compose an answer, my cell phone, the one that I only use for personal things, the one that only a few people have the number to, alerts an incoming text message.

I open the app and stare at the phone for so long that Tracy leans forward, concerned. “What is it? Did your dad—”

I hold up the phone for her to see the words printed across the screen.

I stare at the screen, my heart pounding in my throat.

“What is it?” Tracy leans closer, braces her elbows on my desktop and tries to get a good look at my phone.

“Not really sure.” I nudge it toward her. “Creepy is the only word that comes to mind.”

Tracy spins the phone around and reads the text. “Yeah … but also …” She stops talking, letting the unfinished thought hang in the air.

“Out with it,” I snap, not in the mood for Tracy’s dramatic nature.

“Well, it’s also kind of intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” I repeat, my voice jumping a full octave. “This is my private phone. Maybe a dozen people have the number. So how the hell did this guy—,” I wave my hand wildly over the phone, “—not only get my phone number, but also know that I’ve been looking at the No O website? This reeks of spying and probably more. And you think that’s intriguing?”

“Not when you put it that way,” Tracy says sarcastically while she shoots me a placid look.

“What other way is there?” By nature, I’m pretty calm and laid back. In both my professional and personal life, I’ve learned to roll with the punches, but the longer I think about the text, the more my anxiety levels ramp up.

“Well …” Tracy nudges the phone back across the desk top toward me. “It could be one of the Many Miles board members. If the procedural shows currently airing on TV are to be believed, there are about a million different ways one of those guys could have used the teleconference to hack your computer and gain access to your personal cell phone. As I understand it, all they’d need are some basic computer skills and a few pieces of hacking equipment.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I say.

“I didn’t say I was trying to make you feel better, did I?” Tracy says. She slides a glance toward my phone, giving me the impression that she’d love another peek at it. “I’ve got to admit that I’m fascinated by the No O website. There’s exercises and suggestions I haven’t even imagined. I can’t wait to try them out. And if this guy is really the brains behind the project, well then, it seems like he might be just the guy to help you with your little problem. Don’t you think?”

I chew on my lower lip and think about her words. I’ve always taken a great deal of pride in how I’m completely honest with myself, no matter what problem I’m dealing with, and there is a tiny sliver portion of me that is curious about the kind of help this Mr. No O is offering.

I almost reach out for the phone, my hand poised to return the text before I regain my senses. I shake my head and roll my eyes.

“No,” I say, “I don’t.”