There was silence before she said, “But you got your story?”

“I got a story, yes.”

“That’s all that matters.”

“Let’s hope.” I wet my dry lips. “I’ll let you get back to work. Happy Friday!” We exchanged “I love you”s and ended the call. Then I sat on the bed and texted Kate.

I slept with Finn. Twice.

Her response came so quick, I missed the dancing bubbles.

!!! How was it?

I responded with the fire emoji. Five of them.

Yaaas! Do you like him?

I typed the B in “Because duh” but paused with my finger on the phone. Finn was pretty perfect—smart, kind, funny, charming, hot. But I had to keep it real.

Best. Fling. Ever.

Most guys didn’t pass my sex test, so it wasn’t like Finn had scads of competition, but I knew great sex when I had it.

Look at you living your best life.

I’m giving it my all! Any updates on your end?

I crossed and uncrossed my legs while I waited for her to respond. Kate had been near the top of our class at Eleanor Roosevelt High and had received a 165 on her LSAT. The possibility of her failing the bar had never even crossed my mind.

Crawling my way out of denial against my best judgment. It’s nice in here.

I laughed and told her I’d write more or call her later. Since I’d painfully established the town had nothing going on—not even an uninspired hot chocolate cart in the park—I accepted Finn’s offer to join him at the construction site later that day while he finished out the workweek. It was lunchtime, and he ordered food for his crew from a deli in Newburgh every Friday afternoon.

The team invited me to join their card game. They were playing bullshit, where the aim is to get rid of your cards, often by blatantly lying with a straight face about the ones in your hand. It was a game I knew well from college, only this time without alcohol.

“Bullshit,” I said.

Finn cocked his head. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

I stared him down across the picnic table set outside of his trailer. “Positive.” He’d claimed to drop a six facedown into the pile. I had three sixes. It was possible he had the fourth one, but my gut said he was bluffing.

He turned the card over—nine.

Emma laughed and pointed. “Busted!”

“Busted!” I repeated in solidarity with the only other woman at the table. We high-fived.

“Oh, my bad.” Finn batted his eyelashes with an air of feigned innocence. “I was reading the card upside down.”

Vick cackled and wiggled his silver mustache at Finn. “You’re so full of it.”

Finn gathered the pile of cards into his hands and winked at me.