Maybe he hadn’t even been serious. Maybe she would walk into the subtly-named Cherry Pies and Jai would laugh and say she obviously didn’t belong. He would tell her she was far too smart to end up in a strip club and hey, go find yourself another accounting job.

Nope. She had to think positive. This was going to work. She would bartend at night and look for a company that didn’t mind hiring a known whistle-blower during the day. She would get back on her feet.

Lisa straightened the pretty Chanel blouse Bridget had given to her after she’d declared she would never fit into it again. The truth was Bridget was wildly successful and enjoyed changing out her wardrobe on a regular basis. Luckily she was just the tiniest bit smaller than her sister-in-law when it came to clothes, and they were a perfect fit on shoes, so Lisa had a steady diet of gorgeous designer clothes she could never, ever afford.

Okay. She could do this. Professional makeup. Check. Résumé in Kate Spade bag. Check. Shoes that were supposed to make her feel strong and powerful. Check. Pepper spray within reach and at full strength. Check and check.

I am a strong, independent woman. Nothing can bring me down except me.

And maybe an asswipe criminal who liked to clean other people’s money. She nodded to the woman in the mirror and turned to her door. She was doing this. No more being afraid. No more pretending something better was coming around tomorrow. She made her destiny. She asked for what she wanted.

Her bag securely on her shoulder, she stepped outside. Maybe she should change her shoes. The five-inch Louboutins looked sexy as hell, but she had to walk quite a distance. Maybe she could feel powerful and invincible in sneakers. She was just about to change her mind when she walked right into a hard-muscled back.

She practically jumped away as she collided with the man carrying one half of a leather sofa. Somehow she managed to stay on her feet. “I’m so sorry.”

It looked like 4C was getting filled quickly. Dayna and Jim Ball had only moved out two days before, but here was another neighbor to welcome to the building. Or not welcome, since it wasn’t like it was a friendly place. She’d lived across the hall from the Balls for two years and had barely known the couple beyond their names and the fact that the wife didn’t mind leaving her delicates hanging all over the laundry room waiting for any pervert to come and steal.

Or maybe this was a worker. A mover, perhaps, since he was made of muscles. Lots of sexy, masculine muscles.

“You all right?” a deep voice asked.