But between my uneasiness in my apartment and the pressure with work, I began to feel like I was dragging. I was getting a late-afternoon coffee—my third of the day—in the Hirshhorn’s sleek lobby with my colleague Lena, a Margot Tenenbaum clone who worked in public engagement, when she pointed out the dark circles under my eyes.

“I would bite someone’s head off if they told me I looked tired,” she said. “And you’re well within your rights to do so to me. But, honestly, Audrey, are you okay?”

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” I confessed. “I think the Rosalind exhibit is getting to me. And, you know, that thing with the guy outside my window didn’t help matters.”

“What?” she asked, kohl-rimmed eyes going wide. “No, I don’t know. What thing with what guy outside your window?”

Briefly, I recounted the shock of finding someone peering through my apartment window. To my surprise, Lena didn’t look horrified—instead, she nodded knowingly.

“That’s the worst. I lived in an English basement when I first moved to DC, too. Once I forgot to close my curtains and woke up to find some perv literally jerking off on the other side of my window.”

“Gross. What did you do?”

“Closed the curtains and called the police. First things first, right? Then I signed up for a self-defense class.” She curled her pale lips into a proud smile. “Ask me how to break a nose.”

“That’s a great idea,” I said as wheels began to turn in my head. A self-defense class would help me feel less helpless, sure, but think of the content! Instagram Stories from a lively, empowering class—I could recruit Cat to help with the filming; me wearing this cute new Outdoor Voices workout set I’d been looking for an excuse to buy and adding swipe-up affiliate links; a serious post and perhaps some videos about the scourge of violence against women and opportunities to take action.

Take that, I thought to the stranger outside my window. You think you’re going to take advantage of me? I’m going to monetize the hell out of you.

Lena interrupted my thoughts with a low groan. “Don’t look now, but here comes Lecherous Larry.”

“Who?” I asked, looking around the lobby, expecting to see the usual creep, but he wasn’t there. Neither was anyone else who looked particularly unsavory. I glanced back at her and realized with a start that she was looking at Lawrence, who was heading toward us with a coffee in his hand, wearing the orange shirt I’d helped select.

“You mean Lawrence?”

“I can’t stand that guy. He’s so grabby,” she muttered, while smiling at him as he approached. “Hi, Lawrence.”

“Ladies,” he said, dropping into the chair beside mine and throwing an arm across my seat back. “How’s the day treating you?”

“No complaints,” I said. “At least, not now that I have this caffeine.”

“We should really get back to work,” Lena said, standing abruptly. “Come on, Audrey.”