The line is disconnected before I can answer my overly obnoxious caller. I stand still for a moment absorbing the conversation before my temper flares and I grab my jacket. I don’t particularly like Andrew, but I won’t have him fired for this. I head straight back to the shop. She’s more than likely unaware I’m a lawyer. I’ll have this woman talked in circles and so confused within thirty seconds she’ll be apologizing for wasting my time.

I hardly make it three feet into the shop before Andrew points to a table in the corner with a blank expression fixed in place. I watch as a colleague shoulders him, and he cowers behind the coffee machine. There’s a woman sitting with her back to me, presumably Ms. Spears, and I cough loudly on my approach to announce my arrival. The brunette swivels in her chair, holding a to-go cup with my number sharpied across it, her brow arched and lips pursed. I stop dead in my tracks and swallow the harsh diatribe I’d mentally prepared and was about to deliver.

“Good morning, Mr. Silverman.”

Her voice is smooth now, melodic even, nothing like how it sounded on the phone, and my name falls like a song from her lips. God, those lips.

“Indeed it is. Hello, Robyn.”

I pull out a chair and take a seat across from her, never once breaking eye contact. “I’m assuming that Andrew’s job is, in fact, safe then?” I shoot a look over to where he’s peering above the coffee machine watching.

“For now. Although I’m pretty sure that it probably is against company policy for the staff in here to pimp out people’s numbers.”

She’s smiling, so I take it lightheartedly.

“I’d just like to make clear that this is the first time I’ve ever been pimped out. I wouldn’t want you to think that this is normal practice for me.”

I watch transfixed as her mouth tips at the corner and she fights a smile. The line of her jaw, the curve of her neck, the soft waves of her dark hair falling over one shoulder have me mesmerized. Robyn is living, breathing art. I want to stare at her in much the same way I would a Picasso, taking in all the elements that make up the whole. Her face is a perfect juxtaposition, the features all too prominent and fighting for attention. Her almond eyes are set too wide against the slightness of her nose, angled to draw your attention down to settle on a set of excessively full lips. It should tilt her appearance on the side of peculiarity, yet the odd proportions only enhance her beauty.

“I should apologize for the way I got you here, but I couldn’t resist and I wanted to thank you in person for the coffee. It’s a nice gesture, even if it should be me paying for yours. How’s your shirt, by the way? Do I need to reimburse you for a new one?”

There’s something in the way she asks that makes me think she’s worried I might say yes.

“No, cleaned up fine.” I grin; the lie instantly causes her to smile. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned your acting skills weren’t up to par, but I beg to differ. Not for one moment did I doubt that I was about to encounter some angry middle-management dragon waiting to rip me a new one about exploiting her staff. I can’t tell you how happy I am that it’s you sitting here right now.”

“Maybe I should quit dancing and switch to acting. I’ve obviously missed my calling in life,” she lilts.

“That would be a bold move on the heels of one success. Maybe we could discuss it further over dinner?” I’m aware of the hope laced through my question with all the subtly of a fire alarm. She did call and initiate this meeting though, so that must count for something. She wanted to see me.

“I’m not sure. I mean, no offense but I don’t really know anything about you—going out alone with you would be irresponsible.”

Wow, okay so I didn’t see that coming.

“Well, that’s where you’re in luck. I have a work dinner tonight at Masa, and it will be filled with boring attorneys and other equally exciting individuals. You could be my solace. Call it payback for the shirt. Nice meal, great company. It could be fun. There may even be some dancing.” I’ve never known anyone to dance at these things, but I’m hoping that it will tip the vote in my favor. A wash of uncertainty settles over her face; she looks like I’ve asked her to partake in some sort of criminal activity and not simply dinner. “You don’t have to look so excited by the prospect of a date,” I joke, trying to infuse a little humor I’m not exactly feeling. And there it is, the smallest tip of her mouth, a flash of a suppressed smile, bitten down and held in place by her teeth. She’s about to agree. I feel as though I may have just stumbled upon her tell. So naturally I revel in my success before earning it.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not going to take no for an answer?” she asks.

“Because I’m not.”

“I feel like I need to be up front with you, Cole…” If she’s about to tell me she’s married or involved with someone—I’m not sure I’ll be able to mask the disappointment. God, please don’t be married. “I’m not looking to get into anything with anyone right now, no matter how casual. I’m going through some things and now’s not the best time, like, at all.”

“Well luckily for you, it’s just dinner, not a marriage proposal. On a more serious note, you’d actually be doing me a favor. See, if you don’t agree, I’ll be forced to attend with Janet from the office. I truly fear for my virtue. You’d be liable for its untimely demise. Could you truly live with yourself if you knocked me back now?”

“Your virtue? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yep, I choked…that’s the best I could come up with. It’s true, though.” She’s smiling. You don’t smile if you’re not going to concede, surely.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay. I’ll be the protector of your virtue for one night only.”

I breathe deeply and grip the side of the chair, willing myself to stay calm and collected, when what I actually want to do is fist pump the air in victory. Her acceptance is more satisfying than scoring a winning touchdown at the Super Bowl.

“Excellent!” I clear my throat and wipe my sweaty palms over my slacks. I’m not sure I’ve felt this excited about a company dinner in all the time I’ve worked at the firm, and that includes my first Christmas as an intern when Steven announced to Mr. Peterson, our supervisor, that he was going to ask one of the interns out on account of her having the most phenomenal tits he’d ever seen. Peterson, being the smarmy asshole that he is, told Steven if he did it at dinner, allowing the entire office front row seats to the imminent rejection, he would pay him $500. What neither of them realized was that Steven was talking about Sarah, who had told me in confidence the first day of our internship that Daddy just happened to be Mr. Peterson, and she was keeping it quiet, not wanting to give the impression that she was only there through Daddy’s connections. That evening had held my number one spot for work dinners for many years, but I’m pretty sure tonight may steal first place.

I cough and clear my throat, peering across the table at Robyn before getting down to business—arranging our date.

I DON’T KNOW what just happened. One minute I’m thanking Cole for the coffee, the next I’m exchanging details and organizing a dinner date for tonight. What the hell is wrong with me? This is such a bad idea. In fact, it’s beyond bad…this is up there in the realm of the most catastrophically stupid idea in the history of shitty ideas. I go to bed crying every night, scared that I’ll be woken by some maniac demanding money I don’t have, and by the looks of it, still won’t have by this stupidly imposed deadline. At first the tears came for Danny. I missed him. My chest ached every time I looked around our apartment. My apartment. Now, all that I harbor in my chest where my heart used to be is a huge empty void. I feel so lost, so incomplete. I can’t pay my bills, barely have money to eat and lie awake each night picturing everything I must have done wrong for Daniel to abandon me. I can’t go out on a date with some random stranger just because the prospect of a free meal is overwhelmingly appealing. Anything that isn’t PB&J is appealing when that’s all I’ve eaten for the last five days in a row.