“There are only two rules,” she said, eyes twinkling. “The first is, if I ever become someone who cares whether or not you know the answer to that question, shoot me. The second is, never see the movie. You made it this far; stick to your guns. You in?”

I found out later she only hired non-fans. She didn’t care if you’d seen her as a mermaid once or twice when you were a kid, but if you regularly quoted the film as an adult, or owned, say, a Sworkas-to-English dictionary, that was an immediate disqualification.

“How would you be able to take me seriously if you’d seen it?” she pointed out a few days later, while wearing a bedazzled eye patch and mismatched fuzzy slippers.

Back at the café, Miles continues to hover.

“Do you mind? I can’t concentrate in the vicinity of oglers,” I say.

“I have nowhere to sit,” he points out. “Have you really come here every single day since you moved to New York?”

My eye twitches. I’d meant for that factoid to boost my credibility as a valuable customer, not add fuel to his mockery. “Yes,” I grit out.

“Why? There’s this thing called the City all around you, and it happens to be one of the most incredible places on earth—”

For the tiniest moment of lunacy, I think about saying, “Maybe you could tell me where to start? You’ve survived here fifteen years—you probably know every nook and cranny and I could really, really use a friend here. Anyone who knows what they’re doing, because I sure as hell don’t,” but then reality intrudes, and I remember he’s a jerk who’s currently insulting me. Again.

I turn my back, put on my headphones, and open a chat box to Mary.

Zoey: Greetings from hell.

Contrary, Quite: Are you expanding your horizons?

Zoey: Someone stepped on my foot the first week and broke my little toe.

Contrary, Quite: What are you whining for? It’s vestigial.

Zoey: It’s probably going to fall off.

Contrary, Quite: I’m sending you a care package.

Zoey: Why? It’ll just get stolen. BTW you owe Nick, and I quote, “2k in back weed.”

Contrary, Quite: Lies and slander. I only buy front weed. But that explains why he’s been so mopey and lovelorn lately.

Zoey: What do you mean?

Contrary, Quite: He had it bad for you.

Zoey: Incorrect.

Contrary, Quite: The other day he asked why I never gave you any time off. Apparently he got tickets for the Bowl and you told him you had to work late all month. ALL MONTH??

Zoey: I didn’t like him that much.

Contrary, Quite: All you had to do was tell me you had plans. We could’ve knocked off early AT ANY TIME.

Zoey: *He* had plans. *I* wanted to work.