“What’s a suitable match? Someone in your tax bracket?”

“No. Someone in theirs.”

“Okay maybe giving in to your parents’ matchmaking isn’t the best idea, but I do think it’s time you got back on the dating horse. In fact, that’s why I called. Duncan and I have decided to have a housewarming party two Saturdays from now. It will be full of sexy male musicians.”

Reena groaned. Not her best friend, too? Why the hell did everyone insist on throwing men her way lately? Amira knew Reena was on a dating break.

Reena’s twelve ex-boyfriends and countless hookups and casual dates were not a source of shame for her. But her sister’s engagement implosion had felt like a wake-up call.

In the last three months, Reena had been there to watch several friends fall stupidly in love with men who were so perfect for them that bluebirds practically followed the happy couples wherever they went. One friend was even proposed to by his boyfriend in a tearful serenade in front of an audience of hundreds. Reena wanted that. All of that. Not necessarily the huge, singing spectacle or to be followed by woodland creatures, but she wanted the certainty that their feelings were real. And real feelings could not start with meddling parents, or friends, for that matter.

Unwanted man-buffet aside, a weekend with her best friend did sound lovely. “Can I come early?”

“Yeah, come Friday. You can help cook.”

Reena finished the call with a smile. She loved having something to look forward to, and a weekend in the country sounded perfect. The fact that she could use it as a reason to skip Sunday brunch also helped. She’d play her deflect-and-distract game with any matchmaking attempts, and just engage in a bit of light flirting and admiring of Duncan’s friends. Because although she knew her Amira meant well, Reena felt positive she was not ready to ride any horses anytime soon.

Reena’s heavy limbs and pounding head slowed her as she walked up to her building Monday evening. It had been yet another brutal day at the office. All day, just numbers. Reports. Spreadsheets. Sales data. Numbers, Numbers, Numbers.

Letting herself into the building, she noticed her friend Shayne on the stairs heading to the second floor. A Black man with the most enviable sense of style of all Reena’s friends, he was wearing a stunning purple brocade vest with ripped jeans and a T-shirt today. An outfit only Shayne could pull off.

“Reena! Haven’t seen you in a bit.” He stepped back down and hugged her. “Come catch up at Marley’s. I picked up this amazing barrel-aged saison beer and triple crème Brie. We’re celebrating.” Marley, aka Mahreen, was Reena’s cousin, and Shayne was Marley’s best friend. Marley lived in one of the top-floor units, and Shayne officially lived in a nearby basement apartment with roommates, but he preferred Marley’s couch most nights.

Reena smiled. “What are we celebrating?”