“What’s the matter?” she asks. “If you keep batting the keys like that your fingertips will bruise.”

“The matter,” I hiss, whacking along, “is that I wasted the last three years of my life dating an imbecile—”

“Imbecile?” Indira arches her brows. “Are you classy even when you swear?”

I finish my reply and hit the send button with satisfied ferocity.

Indira studies me a little longer and says, “Repeat after me. My ex-boyfriend is a dickhead.”

“Is that the best insult you can muster?”

“I agree, we can do better. How about—”

My phone rings, interrupting her.

“It’s him,” I say.

I press a button to silence the ringtone.

“Care to tell me what happened?”

“The imbecile sent me an email offering not to sue me for throwing a plate of spaghetti on his dick-head if I sign a confidentiality agreement about his affair. He basically wants me to sign a document that says it’s okay for him to keep screwing his secretary.”

“Mmm.” Indira purses her lips. “And what did you reply?”

“I thanked him for providing written proof of his misconduct at work in case the senior partners at his firm needed it on paper. And I told him he can expect news from my lawyer as I’m the one suing him for emotional damages.”

Indira makes a fist and swirls her arm in the air in circles. “Go, girl. Finally, the redhead in you comes out!”

When the phone rings again, I’m about to put it permanently to silent but Indira stops me.

“Let me handle him.” She picks up the phone, frowning at the caller ID. “Edward Cullen? What’s his real name?”

I have this little habit of naming my contacts after book or movie characters, and I still haven’t updated Gerard’s to a more appropriate one.

“Right, I need to change that. Real name’s Gerard.”

“What a sorry-ass name. Surname?”

“Wakefield.”

Indira makes a gagging face and answers. “Blair Walker’s phone.”

I can hear Gerard’s voice even if the phone’s not on speaker. “Hello, who is this?”

“Hello, Mr. Wakefield. This is Indira Singh, Miss Walker’s attorney.”

“She hired an attorney? What’s the name of your firm? Is this for real?”

“Given the considerable amount of emotional distress you caused my client, Miss Walker intends to pursue legal action against you. We should probably thank you for sending a written confession of your immoral conduct, Mr. Wakefield. It couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“Blair is pressing charges against me? After what she did?” Gerard is yelling now. I imagine his face red and contorted with rage as he spits into the phone, “Should I remind you she’s the one who threw a bowl of scorching pasta over my head? Are you out of your mind? What kind of lawyer are y—”