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And cancer—do you want to talk about cancer, Chase McKay? The lighting in here may be dim, but I can see her blushing even harder. She clears her throat.

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When I sit up straight on this barstool, Aimee and I are about the same height. Leaning towards her, I notice her chest expanding as she prepares herself for my kiss. Just when she starts to lean in towards me too, a hand slaps her on the shoulder. Her friend sizes-up the situation.

But Aimee is not most women. Not to me. Not tonight. Can I just borrow Aimee for one second? You might as well just flash him your granny panties. Roxy walks off to join a group of people she knows, without another word. Aimee watches her walk away before removing her coat and draping it over the barstool next to me. Dear God, yes! I had completely forgotten that I was here waiting for him. Aimee is quite the distraction. As beaten down as a guy can look in a bespoke suit and coat and shoes that cost more than my rent.

And then he notices Aimee, and the outline of that black bra beneath her tight creamy white sweater. Hello there. Every time Keaton switches to that golden tone of voice, he has gone home with the woman on the receiving end of it. It rarely happens. We both wanted to go to Wharton.

We both wanted to start my business. One of us did both of those things by studying and working his ass off, and one of us had the money to do whatever the fuck he wanted. That stuff is nasty. You smell incredible. What follows is the kind of conversation that only Keaton can have with a woman. About his grandmother being friends with Coco Chanel.

It might be true and it might be total horseshit, but he sells it like the best car salesman. I know this guy so well. Thank God I went to business and law school. And I am not going to pick a battle with my best friend and business partner. Not now, anyway. He let me live in his apartment in Philadelphia for four years when we were at Wharton and nearly kicked me out once when he was convinced that his girlfriend was in love with me. We got through it. Not tonight, anyway. Even though I never want to see another cigarette again in my life.

I swallow the whiskey that Keaton ordered for me, stand up and put my jacket back on. Enjoy your Moscow Mule. He barely protests. But I will. A quick fix. Beer and donuts are a terrible combination, but also strangely appropriate for the occasion. How many beers have I had?! She has Make-Up Face voice. I do appreciate that she stayed in with me on Friday and Saturday night, but …. Keaton is good-looking and he looks amazing in a suit. Keaton is charming, in the way that eight-year-old boys are charming.

A good guy. But not the guy for me. When he showed up at the bar that first night that I met him and Chase, I had the exact opposite response to him as I did to his best friend. When I saw Chase, my body immediately went on high alert. When he saw me and held my gaze, I just kept walking toward him. I was turned on.

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Actually switched on, like a lightbulb that had been set to dim forever and then BAM! How do you like that?! It felt like the difference between walking around your hometown and walking around Manhattan for the first time. When Keaton showed up, he felt familiar and safe. It was like getting off a roller coaster. I still had the dizzying buzz from flirting with Chase, but I was stepping back onto solid ground again and needing to find my balance.

If I were put in a situation where I had to make a choice, I would have chosen Chase. But he took himself out of the equation. Which is why I would have rather dated Chase.

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It was great meeting you and Irish whiskey at Bitters last night! I mean. Maybe he gave me a wrong number. But I had a feeling it was a Bro Code thing.

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I liked Keaton. I really did.

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I especially liked that he had such a cool best friend. But I also hated that he was friends with Chase. Because I really liked Chase. And all the flowers he sent to my office? Oh lord, so many beautiful flowers. And Wicked. He said he could get us greats seats at Wicked on Broadway.

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  • And then I found out that I was being laid off. The job that I had moved out here for—at the prestigious business consulting firm—had to eliminate my position. So I had a lot more on my mind than dating. The next few times he asked me out, I gave him the excuse of being stressed-out from job-hunting. On Thursday, I found him waiting for me outside my apartment when I came home from a job interview.

    He had a lunch reservation at a great restaurant by the river and wanted me to go with him right then. He seemed to think I was joking at first. I hope to see you again sometime. He was classy. I felt good about everything. We should be celebrating. On Friday afternoon, I got a call from Elaine Hoffman. Elaine is the president of the boutique business consulting firm that I interviewed with on Thursday. I had been unemployed for nearly three weeks.

    I was deliriously happy when she offered me a position at her firm, because her company specializes in consulting for startups, and that was my focus in business school. She hired me specifically because she needs a project manager to help them transition to a subscription-based model for their services, although she never mentioned this in our meeting.

    I thought to myself. I wonder if he wears suits at the office? I thought to myself, before imagining him slowly taking off his suit. I immediately called Roxy at work, and told her about my situation. I drank one cup of coffee spiked with just a tiny amount of Irish whiskey and a huge amount of cream, and I called Elaine back. I just have a bit of a dilemma here, and I felt that I should tell you that I actually know the founders of SnapLegal, a little bit.

    He was always a perfect gentleman and it was a friendly parting. No hard or deep feelings at all, and I promise you that I am fully capable of doing the job your company has been hired to do for them. I just … you know … full-disclosure. Oh shit. Did I accidentally verbalize my little Chase McKay in a suit fantasy without knowing it? Did I think those dirty thoughts so loud that my new boss could hear them? She was trying so hard not to yell at me. No no nooooo. I mean, I actually met him half an hour before I met Keaton, but that was it.

    I heard her exhale slowly. I mean, no!

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    End of story. I wanted to murder him, but I did my job because I am a professional who is capable of compartmentalizing. That is why I did not spit in his coffee once, as far as he knew. I like you. I had a good feeling about you. You have the perfect resume for this position and fantastic references. And you are literally, on paper, the best person for this SnapLegal job. So just sign and return the contract. Your company e-mail address will be set up by Monday morning, and I will meet you at the SnapLegal offices at ten on Monday morning for a quick meeting with the founders.

    But if they try to get out of my contract with them because of you , then obviously I will be firing you. She hung up before I could thank her for understanding. I also sort of wanted to ask her to marry me. If she was cool about the situation, now all I had to do was make sure that Keaton would be cool with it.

    And I was nearly positive that he probably would be. Roxy is an angel. I should dig them up and take them home with me. This time I might. Beth slams her door. Last night, around this same time, after my shift at The Black Alcove, the bar I work at, I came here to surprise my boyfriend Jace—and, you guessed it, I caught him with another girl … naked. His roommate, on the other hand, who owns the house and who happens to be Tyler Maron—my ex-best friend and the man who holds fifty percent of the blame on why my life turned out the way it did—caught me running to my car.

    I made him promise not to tell Jace. Okay, tonight is not about me and Tyler. Revenge is way better than confronting him. Plus, when I think of it as revenge, I feel like it knocks my crazy factor down a notch. I just prefer to show my emotions differently than others do. Most girls would go batshit insane on the other woman. Not me. In my mind, Jace is at fault here. He is the one in the relationship, and he is the one who should have said no.

    Every one of my friends in Wind Valley has settled down but me. Well, not when it comes to making a decision for my own life, anyway. We have to walk past it to get to the front door. This is it, Abby. Is that a knife? Holy crap! I grab my right wrist as pain shoots toward my elbow and glare at Beth as the knife rattles off the sidewalk. No movement and the lights are still on.

    This is good. I grab the knife and begin round two. Then, I repeatedly bounce on the knife—ignoring Beth, who is now tugging on the back of my shirt and yelling at me to get down—until I hear the smooth hiss of air leaking from the tire. I hear someone. Jace and Tyler are walking outside, talking loudly. Then they do a double take. How much longer do you want to wait? The knife is stuck. She knows me so well.

    Then, Beth and I yank on the knife together. Nothing happens. I barely see his mouth move. What does it look like? He kneels in front of the tire and jerks the knife out in one swift move. His white T-shirt hugs his bicep, and, oh boy, he looks good tonight.

    Shoot, any girl would agree to whatever he wanted just to see it one more time. I would know. I tuck the knife into my back pocket as I duck to run. Hunching behind her car, Beth shoots daggers from her eyes as she stares at me. The look is so intense, I need something else to focus on. Yes, this crack on the sidewalk is a nice distraction.

    I crawl around the front of the car and watch them turn the corner. Then, I start to laugh. Beth is still glaring at me. The whole picture makes me laugh even harder. With the click of my seat belt, she pulls onto the road. I nod. Settle down? Fall in love? She knows my life. I roll my eyes. Beth shakes her head. I cross my arms and stare out the window as we near the BA. Or person in general, it seems. Maybe Beth is right. My cell lights up with an incoming text. I flip it over just as Beth says goodbye to Maverick. She pulls into a parking space and turns off her car. She shoots me wink before she gets out.

    My mind is racing from our short conversation.