By the time I finished my sketches, returned messages, and caught up on my paperwork, superhero-related and otherwise, it was after five. Time to go home and get ready for my night out on the town with the delectable Johnny Bulluci. Goody.

I walked home in record time. Thankfully, there were no more fires or other emergencies to distract me. After grabbing a couple of apples from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter, I strolled into the bathroom, peeled off my clothes, and ran some water into the claw-foot tub. While I chomped on the tart fruit, I fluttered my fingers, heating the water until it was nice and toasty. Then, I did the whole I-have-a-hot-date-and-might-even-have-sex-tonight routine. Lathered up with some vanilla-scented soap. Washed my hair. Shaved everything.

H o t M a m a

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I dried off in about three seconds, went into the bedroom, and flicked on the light in my closet to begin my search for the perfect first-date outfit. I wanted something cool, something sophisticated, something that said, We’ll probably have sex if you behave yourself and buy me a nice, big dinner first. After flipping through three racks, I picked a tight scarlet dress covered in matching sequins that set off my blond hair and rosy skin. Heavy black eye shadow, red lipstick, a ruby solitaire pendant, and red stilettos polished off the outfit. The dress didn’t have too many buttons down the back, and the short skirt would provide easy access, if desired. I closed my eyes and thought of Johnny’s lips on mine. There would probably be some desire tonight. Maybe even some satisfaction, if Johnny was a very good boy. Or a very bad one, depending on your point of view. I twirled around in front of the mirrors that lined one wall of the bedroom. I looked hot. Smokin’ even, as Lulu would say. I put my hands on my hips, admiring my reflection. My engagement ring caught the light and flashed it back to me. I twisted it around on my finger. My good mood vanished. Should I really be doing this? Going out with somebody else? Thinking about sleeping with someone else? Travis was gone, but I still loved him. I always would. I didn’t know if there was room in my heart for someone else. If I could even love somebody again. If I really even wanted to. If you loved someone, you gave him power over you. Power to hurt you, whether he did it on purpose or not. I didn’t ever want to feel the way I had when Travis died. Alone. Griefstricken. Helpless. Numb. Maybe I should wait awhile longer to get back into the social scene. Maybe I should cancel—

The phone rang, interrupting my troubled thoughts.

“Fiona Fine.”

“It’s me,” the chief’s voice rumbled through the receiver.

“I just wanted to check in with you. I’m on call tonight.”

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J e n n i f e r E s t e p