I went to work on Monday, my mind churning with the bizarre encounter at Luke's party. It was one of the weirdest conversations I ever had with a stranger. I walked to my cubicle and caught a faint tinge of cologne, and suddenly Will's fingers were at my neck, making me hot all over.

“Stop it,” I muttered to myself.

“Stop what?”

My coworker, Janine popped her head from our shared wall.

“Oh, I was just talking to myself. One of those days.”

I grimaced at her, and she returned the smile reluctantly.

My gaze flicked back to the email from my boss requesting a meeting at three. My heart pounded.

What does she want to talk about?

I knew what it would be about. Lately, my job performance wasn’t at its best. She sent my designs back multiple times, telling me they lacked inspiration. They were too derivative.

She will probably talk about it.

I made the finishing touches on my tablet and sent the graphic to her, hoping that she would find it acceptable. Two fifty-five.

Might as well walk over there.

There was someone already in her office; I could see their bodies behind the frosted glass. The door flung open and Mark, one of my colleagues, sped out without a backward glance. I closed my hands to relieve some of the coldness and opened my boss’ door.

Mary waved me in from behind her desk, looking uncharacteristically serious.

Uh-oh. Does she hate my last design?

“Hello, Natalie. Have a seat.”

I sat down painfully.

“Natalie, as you know the aquarium has been experiencing declining profits.”

This was my cue to nod, but I couldn’t move.

Oh God. Am I being fired?

"Our department's budget has been cut. I'm sorry, but we're going to have to let you go."

I am being fired.

Why?

A horrible emptiness gaped in my chest. “Why me? I’ve been here way longer than Carrie and Janine.”

"You've lost your edge. You're frequently late, and you don't pay attention in meetings. I can't use anything you send me."

I couldn’t find the words—my world was falling apart. My voice stumbled to salvage my job.

“I’ll redo the design right away—”

“Natalie.”

“I promise I can get the work done. I just need another chance!”

“Natalie, I can’t give you another chance. We don’t have the budget, and that means I have to make difficult decisions like letting someone go.”

A little of anger ground into my voice. “And that someone had to be me?”

Her face creased. “I’m sorry. I would keep you, but we don’t have the budget.”

First my relationship, and now my career. Devastation crashed over me like massive stone walls.

Ignoring her outstretched hand, I turned around and bolted from her office like a coward. What else was there to do but empty out my desk and go home? I didn’t want to face my coworkers and hear their sympathies. I wanted to drown myself in a bottle of tequila.

Don’t be stupid. Your designs are good. You’ll find another job.

“Natalie? What are you doing?”

A photo of Ben and I sat on my desk, its metallic frame grinning.

It’s all your fault.

I hurled it into the trashcan, along with all the other unnecessary trinkets. The only thing I kept was my coffee mug, which I shoved into my purse.

“Natalie!”

Janine poked her head around my cubicle.

I dissolved when I saw the concern on her face. “I—I was laid off.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

I waved it off and dried my eyes on my sleeve. The box of tissues was buried deep in the trash. Another surge of violent heat seared through my veins. I was so sick of tissues, so sick of crying all the time.

“You’ll find something else.”

She placed a tentative hand on my shoulder, which I ignored.

In this economy? Good fucking luck.

I ripped open my drawers and crammed the files I wanted to keep in my already overfilled purse.

“We should go out for a drink.”

“No.” I didn’t think I could handle dozens of people saying how very sorry they were, and how they were sure I would find another job.

Not today.

“I want to get out of here.”

Maybe there was too much bitterness in my voice.

Her eyes shined with nauseating pity. “You’ll come back, won’t you?”

Shouldering my purse, I shrugged at her and walked out of the office. I slammed the elevator button as I thought what I should do.

Telling my best friend what happened was my first instinct, but I knew it wouldn't comfort me have her look into my eyes with the same pitying expression I used to give her. It was embarrassing.

Maybe I would just go home and visit my parents for the weekend. I thought of San Ramon: the oak trees, the ranch-style house where I grew up, the sparkling pool, the sunshine pouring through the kitchen, the comfortable beds, and Mom’s cooking.

What will Mom say?

I chewed my lip the whole way home.

Dad will be pissed.

He never supported my decision to major in graphic design. Graphic designers were a dime a dozen, and competition was fierce. It didn’t pay well, but that wasn’t the point. I majored in it because I was good at it. Because making art was what I wanted to do for a living.

I shot off a quick text to Jessica, explaining what happened and where I was going. My phone vibrated and lit up with a call I knew was from her. It blared with its merry tune until it fell silent and died. I didn’t feel like talking about it. I picked it up and my face reflected in the dark glass. Then I called my mom.

* * *

“I don’t understand. Why did they fire you?”

The fork clattered against the ceramic plate. Frustration boiled my blood, but I didn’t raise my voice.

“I was not fired. Laid off. There’s a difference.”

Mom and Dad sat around me on the dark, rectangular table; their old faces basked in orange light. The kitchen was unique because half of its walls were made of glass. As a result, it gleamed with light even though it was five in the evening. The whole house was always filled with sunshine, and I preferred it for that reason. It contrasted against my gloomy apartment. The change of scenery did nothing to ease my mood.

Dad gave me a doubtful look that made me grind my teeth together.

“You did something wrong if they got rid of you and not the newer hires.”

I shoved the doubt away. “I’ll find something else.”

My mother swiveled in her chair to talk to Dad. “Maybe it was because she took so many days off for that girl.”

Bored, I looked up from my plate to glare at her. Her tactics were as subtle as a flying brick. It took me years to understand them.

“You know her name—Jessica. She’s only been my best friend since I was thirteen. And no, it wasn’t because of that.”

“Maybe if you weren’t spending so much time helping her, your life wouldn’t be such a mess.”

“Tom!”

The snappy comment took me off guard. I could feel Dad's disappointment rolling from him like a heat lamp.

Both of them took to Ben very well. He was a hotshot lawyer with a good salary, successful, handsome. He was everything they wanted for me. It was plain from the look on Dad’s face he thought I would never find someone like him again.

“I don’t regret helping my best friend.”

“That girl was always a bad influence. I never liked that you hung around her so much.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“She used you to help herself. How is she helping you now?”

The beef stir-fry was subject to my rage. I stabbed the food and popped it into my mouth. “She is setting me up on a date.”

“Well, it’s the least she can do after destroying your relationship.”

“She destroyed nothing!”

“You were engaged, and now you’re not. And I still don’t understand why—”

“I broke up with Ben. I will not rehash it. Get over it.”

“Don’t raise your voice like that. It’s not our fault you went into art instead of applying to dental school.”

“Waste of money.” Mom muttered under her breath.

It felt like a gut punch. The air vanished from my chest.

“Twenty grand a year, and what did it amount to?”

“Stop it, Dad.”

“For you to make as much as a guidance counselor!”

How could my father be so hateful? “Dental school was your dream, not mine! Don’t make me feel bad because I did something that would make me happy!”

“You think jobs are supposed to make you happy? It’s a job! People your age are all the damn same.”

“What are you talking about?” I roared.

“You think the world owes you something.”

What?

“Natalie, you were not happy at the aquarium. You’ve wasted your education on a job that didn’t even pay well—”

I didn't want to hear any more. Grabbing my purse from the granite countertop, I stormed outside and got back into my car. The tires squealed as I backed out of there, determined not to come back for a long time. I could almost hear the conversation they must be having: She was always so spoiled, so ungrateful. We did everything for that girl, and she’s acting like such a baby.

The car soared on the highway. My phone screamed the whole way home, and I fought the urge to hurl it out of the window. If being right meant being miserable at my day job, I would choose wrong over right every damn time.

I was in a crappy mood by the time I arrived at my apartment—an apartment that always lowered my spirits whenever I crossed its threshold because it was so dark and dingy. Little natural light made it through the windows and the carpet was disgusting. There was carpet everywhere, even in the bathroom. It drove me mad.

We need to move out of this place.

Jessica was perched on the leather couch that sat in our living room. It was brand new. Every time I saw it, I blinked at how out of place it looked. Her blonde hair gathered in a ponytail, and she turned her head to look at me with a shrugging, sympathetic grimace on her face.

“Hey.”

Sighing, I joined her. “I went to my parents’ house.”

“Oh,” she said in a knowing voice.

“I don’t know why I keep going back there.”

“Sorry about your job.”

I waved her off in the same way that I waved off Janine at work. “I don’t care too much. Yeah, it’s a blow to my ego, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“Well, that’s good.” Her tone suggested that she didn’t believe my indifference. “Luke came through. You have a date tomorrow in Berkeley.”

Oh, God.

The last thing I wanted was to go on a date.

“I don’t know.” My fingers plucked the leather armrest.

“I think you should go. It’ll take your mind off things. His name is Charlie. He’s really nice.”

“I’m sure he is.”

 “You’ve got to force yourself to get out there. You’ll feel better eventually.”

“I’m going to look for jobs. You can text me his number.”

Exhaustion settled in my limbs.

Eventually.

Damn, I was tired of that word.

* * *

I chewed my lip as I searched the small, Ethiopian restaurant for Charlie. Having no idea what he looked like, my heart kept a frightening tempo behind my ribs.

What if he’s boring?

There was still the old standby in case things got unbearable, the transparent ‘my friend has a crisis, and I must leave immediately' routine. Jessica promised to call me with an "emergency" if I gave the go ahead.

The aroma from all the food was mouth-watering. Steam swirled into the air from hot plates like calligraphy, and the ceiling held sweeping, colorful drapes of cloth.

This feels more like a richly decorated tent than a restaurant.

“Excuse me, are you Natalie?”

A chubby man extended his hand, and I took it. He was decent looking. Brown hair and eyes. Unremarkable.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Thanks for suggesting this. I don’t eat out often.”

We sat at a cramped table, and I hid behind the menu. Already knowing that this would not work out, I decided that I was just going to enjoy a pleasant evening.

“What do you do?”

The boring, stilted conversation of all first dates started forward on trembling legs. I could feel myself pulling back with every word. Drawing answers from him was like yanking teeth—it was as if he expected me to talk for the entire time.

This wasn’t going well.

The tall, thin waitress appeared at my elbow, and I ordered the lamb and an Ethiopian beer. Without the menu, there was no distraction. We looked at each other for a few brief seconds, then my gaze wandered over the artwork on the walls.

A door opening brought in a blast of cold air and my teeth chattered. An insolent voice talked to the hostess, and I dragged my attention back toward Charlie.

“What kind of movies do you like?”

“Um—”

A man walked to our table and stood in front of us. I waited for him to leave, perhaps he was only getting out of the way of a waitress. I glanced up his torso and jumped.

It was Will.

This time, he was dressed in a black wool sweater and dark jeans, his hair groomed back. It was amazing how handsome he looked when he put in a little effort.

“What are you doing here?”

He gave me a pleasant smile but didn't answer my question. Then he glowered at Charlie, who balked at the pile of hundred-dollar bills thrown in his face. My eyes widened.

“Clear off,” he barked at Charlie.

Charlie looked offended. “What?”

He blew air impatiently. “Just take the money and leave. Now.”

My heart pounded as Charlie fingered the one-hundred-dollar bills. There were five hundred dollars there. Would he take the bribe?

I would.

His muddy eyes slid toward mine, and I pressed my lips into a firm line.

“Sorry.” He gathered them in his fist and stood up to leave.

Don’t be. I was getting bored anyways.

The dark-haired man smirked as Charlie swept from the table. He reached out and pulled the chair back and took the other man’s place. Will smiled at me as if this was the most normal thing in the world. For the love of God. He threw almost my month’s rent at my date to get him to leave.

Is this a rich people thing?

I couldn’t believe the fucking gall of this guy.

“You can’t just—how did you even find me?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Oh, please. I did you a favor.”

“How the hell do you figure that?”

“Both of you looked bored.” He waved over the waitress. “I’ll have tea.”

What an ass.

I should be a lot angrier.

“Are you stalking me?” I hissed when she left with his order.

“Nope. Just overheard things at the workplace.” He sighed as if he had a long day and gazed at me with the hungry expression that first drew me to him. “You look beautiful.”

I flushed with pleasure, and suddenly, the restaurant was too warm. I was stunned and flattered that he tracked me down all the way to Berkeley to—what? My anger stumbled.

“Thank you. You look great yourself.”

One dark eye winked at me. “What is this place?”

“It’s an Ethiopian restaurant.”

Will gawked as the waitress placed a huge platter in front of us, which was covered with a flattened, round piece of bread. The entrees were dropped on the bread in steaming piles. There were no utensils, and I could see William freaking out about it.

“What the hell—how are we supposed to eat this?”

“You eat it with your hands.” I pointed to the bowl of rolled spongy bread. I took one and tore off a piece. Using it, I picked up the food and ate it. The lamb fell apart in my mouth, the rich spices making my tongue dance. It was delicious.

He raised an eyebrow. “Strange choice for a first date.”

“If you don’t like it, I can always call Charlie back. At least he was excited to try it.” It was strange how comfortable I felt around him. Being around Luke usually had me tongue-tied, but William was different. He was odd, but not intimidating.

“Not a chance,” he frowned.

“Are you afraid to get your hands dirty?” Rich boy?

His nostrils flared as if he smelled a challenge and rolled up his sleeves. Will gave me an “I’ll show you!” expression as he grabbed a roll of bread and picked up food with a piece. He brightened the moment it passed his lips.

“Wow, this is good.” His revulsion with eating with his hands was overcome by how delicious it was. He dove back in with gusto.

All right, enough of the niceties. “Why are you here?”

He leaned in with that secret smile I loathed, the one that could see through all my bullshit. Just looking at him made my skin burn. “I wanted to see you again, and I usually get what I want.”

"I'll bet you do, but I'm still not interested." A flush crept up my neck, but I didn't look away from his narrowed eyes. His cocky attitude was wearing thin.

Will’s tossed his head. “Yeah, I don’t believe that for one second.”

“I just broke up with my fiancé of six years.”

“Luke told me you broke up almost a year ago. Told me to stay away from you.” He smiled to himself. “Naturally, that just made me want to see you even more.”

An invisible knife sank into my ribs, puncturing my lungs of air. “He said that? Why?” A ripple of anger went through me. Did they think for one second I didn’t know what he wanted from me?

“Maybe he wanted to protect me from you.”

"Maybe he doesn't want a rift forming between his girlfriend and her best friend. Maybe he thinks it'll create problems between them both. I don't know, and I don't care."

Okay.

“So you came here to…hit on me?”

“That and I might have an opening in my department for a recently liberated graphic designer.”

“Liberated. That’s a nice way of putting it.”

“I thought you’d prefer that to laid off or canned.”

“Oh,” I said.

"Oh? That's it? I represent a multi-billion dollar company, and that's all you have to say?"

Is he fucking with me?

“I just thought that…” I blushed and didn’t finish the sentence under his intense stare. “It’s strange to drive all the way here just to talk about a job. On a Saturday. You could have emailed me.”

“I like to do this kind of thing in person.”

Working for Pardini Worldwide would be an incredible opportunity for me. I couldn’t pass it up, no matter how weird William was.

“Well, what’s the job?”

“You’d be the lead designer for a huge marketing campaign.”

I sat back for a moment, stunned. “That…sounds amazing.”

His face flashed with a brilliant smile. “I’ll tell you more about the job after I get to know you first.”

“Um, okay. What do you want to know?”

“Pardini Worldwide prides itself on its excellent customer service. How far are you willing to go to please a client?”

I turned the question over in my head as Will watched me. “I’m always happy to provide the client with multiple rounds of revisions until they’re satisfied.”

“Are you willing to work nights?”

Weird question. “Absolutely.”

“Let’s pretend I’m a client. If I call you at two in the morning, would you be willing to drop everything and service me?”

“Excuse me?”

Service him?

“Customer service. As I said, Pardini Worldwide prides itself on its unswerving customer support.”

My face burned. “Yes…I guess I would.”

“Would you be available at all hours?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be able to compromise your morals for this job?”

Is that a real question? “Uh, it depends.”

He looked like he could barely contain his grin. “I must also warn you that the position is long and very hard—”

“Are you messing with me?”

He stopped, wearing an expression of complete shock. “The hours are long and hard, what did you think I meant?”

I think you’re talking about your penis.

I could hear my skin burning as Will’s mischievous eyes bored into mine.

I am not crazy. He’s making all kinds of sexual innuendos.

He skipped ahead without waiting for my answer. “Why do you want this position?”

“I—well—it’d be great for my career.”

“You will have to be willing to bend over backward…for the company. There will be lots of all-nighters.”

“I think I can manage—”

William’s face flushed with heat as his voice rose in volume. “You’ve got to be flexible, think on your feet, and not be afraid to get down and dirty.”

“I can totally do that.”

“Where do you see yourself in five years? At the top, or do you prefer to be underneath me?”

“Well, I think I—”

I answered before I processed what he had just said. Do you prefer to be underneath me? The fucking bastard was playing with me.

“I’m getting the feeling that this entire thing is your idea of a sick joke.”

I threw my napkin on the table and grabbed my purse, feeling close to tears as I got up and stormed out of the restaurant. All I wanted was to eat my meal in peace, to have a nice evening with him. I walked forward on the rain-soaked streets, not caring where the hell I was going.

“Hey!”

Heavy footsteps jogged next to me, and I didn't need to look to see who it was.

“Natalie, hold on for a second!”

Rough fingers encircled my arm and stopped my rapid escape to my car. William stood under a streetlight, his handsome features harsh under the glare.

“What?”

“The job is not a joke!”

I wrenched my arm out of his grip. “You have a really pathetic sense of humor.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Natalie—”

“I just lost my job! How dare you insult me?”

“I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Yeah right.” I continued walking toward my car, swallowing down the lump rising in my throat.

“Is it my fault you were reading too much into what I was saying?”

I wheeled around, resisting the urge to shove his chest. “Will I service clients at two in the morning? Do I prefer to be underneath you?”

His lips twitched into a grin.

“Are you twelve?”

“I have an unorthodox way of interviewing people to see if they’ll be a good fit. Shit. Don’t be upset.”

“Life is just a huge fucking joke to you, isn’t it?”

He opened his mouth, slack-jawed. “Natalie, I was just—”

“Save it!”

I turned from him and angrily wrenched open my car door. Will was still standing in the rain when I drove away.