“Pottery-throwing is a sure way to a man’s heart.”

“Anyway, we had a drink the other night after work. And we might’ve kissed again,” she says with a mischievous smile.

There’s the reason for the positive attitude. Amelia has a crush!

“Is that the night you came home outrageously late?”

“Yep.”

“And here I was worrying they were overworking you at such a stressful time. Instead, there you were making out in bars.”

“Guilty as charged. And I may have kissed him at the office a couple more times too. Or a lot more times.”

“Oh, gosh. You’re having an office romance, this is wonderful. Just what you needed after, err…”

“You mean filing for divorce and waving my ex-husband off to New York to live happily ever after with his mistress?”

“I-I, that’s not what…”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. We can talk about it. I can even say the word divorcee without shivering too much.”

“So this Dylan guy, are we going to meet him?” I steer the conversation away from divorce talk.

“Let me see where this goes. I’m not sure if he’s a rebound fling or something more.”

“You mean you could potentially see it getting serious?”

“I’ve no idea, but he makes me feel as if I’m a teenager again. I’m kissing him all over the office, in the halls, outside the restrooms, in the copy room. It’s like making out in high school when you had to avoid being caught. It’s been so exciting, and he’s a breath of fresh air.”

“Does he have a Facebook profile?”

“Yes, why?”

“I want to see a pic. Put a face to a name.”

“Oh, all right.” She takes her phone from the bed where we’re folding clothes and taps happily into it. “Here, this is him.” She gives me the phone.

“You pulled up David Beckham’s fan page.”

She takes the phone back to check. “No, this is Dylan’s profile picture.”

I snatch the phone from her. “You’re joking!”

“I’m not.”

“Well, well, well… you’re in trouble.”

“I might be.” She blushes.

“You’re making out at the office. That’s so fun. Have you ever been caught?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“That’s not too bad.”

“It is. We were spotted by the worst office gossips ever. Flotsam and Jetsam.”

“Named after the Sea Witch minions?”

“Yeah, Felicia and Jackie. Two charming ladies, you should meet them. Anyway, it’s not all bad they saw us. They were giving me a hard time about the divorce.”

“Were they?”

“Yeah, it was mortifying.”

“So they’ve stopped now?”

“Yep, they’re too busy spreading the news they caught me having wild sex in the copy room.”

“Did they… I mean, were you?”

“No. Of course, not.”

“And you don’t mind?”