“I’ve got a date. Today.” She squinted at her watch. “Tonight, I mean.”

“You do?” Moira sounded—rightfully so—completely astonished. She modified her tone, too late. “I mean, of course you do. Sure. It’s only natural, a…a lively and…er…opinionated young lady like yourself. With a date on a Saturday night. Yep.”

“Cut the shit. You’re embarrassing both of us.” Young lady. Right. Moira was at least ten years younger, half Jane’s size (and weight), and twice the brains. Calling Moira a silly bitch was only half right. “Fuck! I don’t need this now. You don’t have any idea what it’s about?”

“Um…”

“Come on, Moira, you and the boss are practically litter-mates. Spill.”

“Let’s just say that in his newfound happiness with mate and cub, our fearless leader thinks it’s high time you settled down—”

“No, no, no!”

“—and he’s met just the right fella for you,” she continued brightly. “He’s sure you’ll hit it off.”

“Doesn’t the head of the pack have anything better to do than fix me up on yet another stupid blind date?” She could hear plastic cracking and forced her fingers to loosen around the receiver.

“Apparently not. Now tell the truth; the last one wasn’t so bad.”

“He cried like a third-grade girl when I beat him to the kill.”

“Well, you did hog all the rabbits yourself. Tsk, tsk.”

“Figures,” Jane grumbled, swinging her legs over and resting her feet on the floor. “The first halfway decent guy I meet in forever, and the boss wants me to blow him off to meet some new dildo.”

“Sorry,” Moira said, sounding anything but. “I’ll leave the dildo part out when I tell Michael you’re on the way. And now, having imparted my message, I’d say something like ‘have a nice day,’ except I know you—”

“Hate that shit. Bye.” She hung up and resisted the urge to throw the phone against the wall. Fuck. Fuck fuck!

She’d been so excited about dinner with Dick, she’d had a hard time getting to sleep. She’d finally dozed off near dawn…and slept the entire day away. Now she had to beat feet for the Cape of all places…fuck!

She did throw the phone. But it didn’t make her feel any better, not even when it shattered spectacularly against the wall.

She was tapping her foot on the curb, waiting for the slothlike doorman to hail her a cab. She could hail her own damned cab, thanks very much, but when in Rome, do what the sheep do. Or something like that.