The woman next to me has no notion of personal space. She crawls over my lap and presses her face to Ted’s. I’m so uncomfortable with half her body still suspended over mine that I try to push myself back into the leather seat.

“Now, Pet,” he says, but I don’t glance in their direction. I’m sure my cheeks are super-heated much like the core of a nuclear reactor. “Sit over there and be a good girl.”

Is he kidding? But no, she does exactly as he requests. Pulling back, she sits up before moving to the seat perpendicular to ours on all fours like a cat.

“She’s not here to play?” the woman purrs.

I feel Ted’s eyes on me but I refuse to look at either of them. I feel like I’m intruding on something that is totally out of my league.

“We’re giving Cate here a ride. That’s it.”

I can practically feel her pout by the little mewling sounds she makes. Dear god, is this the Twilight Zone? I don’t realize I’ve moved, putting more space between us until Ted asks, “Comfortable?”

Chancing a glance at him, I nod. “Sorry, I probably should have taken a cab. I didn’t know you had company.”

His lips slyly curl. “It’s really no trouble at all.” He winks, then adds, “I enjoyed dancing with you tonight.”

It’s an odd thing for him to say with his date or companion sitting right across from us.

“It was a fun evening.” I wish again I’d cabbed it.

When the limo pulls to a stop and I see my building through the window I’m grateful that I live in the city near most everything.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as Ted exits and helps me out of the car and onto the slick sidewalk.

He walks me all the way to the front entrance. He takes my hand and kisses it. “Lovely Cate, I’m sorry Pet made you feel uncomfortable. But I’m glad I got to spend more time with you. Until Monday.”

He kisses my hand again before he walks back to the limo. By the time I make it up to my apartment, my phone blows up with texts from Jenna.

Jenna: I’m so mad. I’m headed back to your place.

Jenna: I can’t believe him.

Jenna: I’m mad at both of them.

The texts are coming in so fast. My own reply keeps getting derailed. I have to wonder if I’d hit a dead spot and the texts are finally showing up on my phone. Finally, I get my text off to her.

Me: I’m home.

Jenna: Good. I’m on my way up.

I’ve barely placed my bag down when I hear keys rattling in the door. Jenna bursts through like a hurricane. She halts when she sees me. “What happened to you?”

“You first,” I say because she must have left right after me. “Why are you here and not with Kenneth?”

She sighs and plants herself on the sofa which lets out air much like her own sigh. Another reminder—never order furniture online without sitting on it to test it out. I sit on the opposite end and face her waiting for her to spill her guts.

“Everything was going great until Brandon texted me. I thought it was you, so I didn’t hide my display when I looked at it.”

I can tell she’s worried because she begins to bite her nail, a nasty habit that only shows its head when she is stressed, which isn’t often.

“Okay, we need to back up a little. Who is Brandon anyway? I thought your mechanic is named Brandon.”

“He is,” she says glancing heavenward.

“So why is your mechanic texting you on a Saturday night?” I ask, staring at her pointedly.

“That was Kenny’s question.” She tosses up her hand like it’s ridiculous. “He also wondered why I had a picture of Brandon siting on my couch as his profile picture on my phone.”

“And?” I ask because I happen to agree.

“And Kenny has no reason to be jealous. Brandon and I are just friends. We talk. There can’t possibly be more. Can you imagine me bringing Brandon home to meet my parents? They’d freak just at the sight of his tattoos. It’s just that he listens to me, you know.” She stops to catch her breath. When she begins again, her first words sound like she’s reading the opening line of a novel. “It began one day when the laws of the universe conspired against me. My car was in for an oil change. And he insisted on getting coffee for me and me getting my shit, as he says, off my chest. And we…” She waves her hand grasping for a word. “Clicked.”

My brows rise and she begins to back pedal.

“As friends. I don’t know what Kenny has to be jealous of. Kenny’s going places. One day he’ll be a Senator like his Dad and I’ll be his wife. He’s exactly the kind of guy I should be with.”

When Jenna gets like this, it’s best not to argue. I don’t agree so I change the direction of the conversation.

“Let’s see this picture of Brandon.”

Hesitantly, she pulls her phone out of her clutch. As she scrolls, I can tell when she’s reached the picture. Her whole face lights up. She hands it over. There, with a smirk that spells bad boy, is the object of Jenna’s affection whether she wants to admit it or not. “He’s hot.”

She shrugs and I take in the flop of dark hair and sleeves of tattoos. The boy has a face that would make girls lift their skirts, that’s for sure.

“You like him,” I say, because it’s not really a question based on her body language.

She sighs again. “I’m in like with him,” she finally admits. “Now it’s your turn. What did you do at the party, because you look like Louise finally got hammered and not in an alcohol way?”

At least she admits she may have a thing for this Brandon guy. So I tell her about dancing with Kenneth’s friend, then Ted. “He was there,” I whine.

“Who was there?” Her face is screwed up with confusion.

“Andy.”

Her jaw drops … and stays there.

“Exactly. One minute I’m dancing with Ted, the next I’m doing the Tango with Drew. Then there is this freaking sexy song and I’m on fire. I want him so bad, so what do I do? I run.”

“Not again,” Jenna sighs.

“I couldn’t help it. My heart was on fire and it hurt from all the pressure. I swear I wanted him and hated him in the same moment.”

“And then what?” Her eyebrow lifts in question.

“I let him screw me on the balcony. Who does that? It was hot and dirty and freaking right out in the open where anyone could see.”

A giant puff of air whooshes out of her lungs. “Whoa. Sounds more than hot.” She raises her hands toward the ceiling and grins. “Thank baby Jesus, Louise finally got serviced.”

I grab a pillow and toss it at her. “It’s not funny. He gave me the best orgasm I’ve had in ages and walks away. Why would he do that?”

She purses her lips and I can tell she thinks I should know the answer. “Oh, I don’t know. To teach you what it feels like to be the one left standing when someone runs away from you?”

I close my mouth and drop my head. “So this is my fault.”

She moves over and wraps me in a hug. “I love you, Catie Bear, but Drew…” When I give her the evil eye, she corrects herself. “Andy has to be fed up with all this running you do.”

“So I’m wrong.”

She pulls back and glances at me. “It’s not a matter of being wrong. You need to decide what you want. You need to forgive yourself and give him a chance or move on for good. You can’t keep hiding away and not going out because you’re afraid to love him or anyone else.”

“I need some wine,” I say, because she’s right.

“I need some ice cream. So let’s have both.”

After filling our bellies as we teasingly man-hate, I toss and turn so much during the night that Jenna ends up sleeping on the couch. When morning comes, we spend the rest of our day together down on the National Mall and that’s not code for shopping. We take selfies making it look like the Washington Monument is in our hands and we give Abe the he’s looking good eye wink in our selfie with him. It’s so hard when we grab an Uber to take her to the airport. I glue myself to her until she promises another visit soon if I just let her go.