“What I think,” she said, enunciating her words as she bent her fingers, “is that you were headed downtown to the new space yesterday morning. But what I know is that while you generally present as a curmudgeon—”

“Come on,” I protested.

“You are at your core a nice person who wants to help when someone’s in trouble.”

“Well, thanks for the compliment,” I said sharply, crossing my arms.

“Honestly, I’m impressed.” She golf-clapped in my direction. “Your Boy Scout side rarely comes out in public.”

“Excuse you.” I rolled my shoulders, tried to relax. “Did I or did I not rescue a baby bird in college and let it live in my dorm room for two weeks?”

“You did.” She laughed. She’d witnessed it firsthand all those years ago. “See, I know the real you that not everyone gets to see,” she said with an affectionate smile, and it was true. I’d let Eleanor sleep on the couch in my dorm room for a week after her girlfriend dumped her and she was too depressed to sleep in her own room, and I drove her five hours up to Boston a few years ago, when her sister was hit by a car. And even though she and her fiancé, Henry, could easily afford a cat sitter, she still asked me to feed Luna when they were away, and I always said yes. She knew this side of me, the one that was often hidden behind the more obvious and shiny things that I presented to the world. It felt good, having a friend know me this well. Except right now.

“Also,” she said with a wicked grin, “Tyler said you came in yesterday morning with no jacket on.” Tyler was our assistant, fresh out of college and whip-smart. They’d mastered the job in one day, and knew every move made in this place. Of course they’d spotted me without my jacket and made a note of it on their mental checklist.

“Look, it wasn’t a big deal,” I conceded. “It was definitely not romantic.”

Eleanor’s brow tightened, and she squinted at me. “I didn’t ask you if it was romantic.”

I waved her off. “All that happened was a woman’s dress got stuck in the door and ripped straight down the back—can you believe that? So I let her have my coat to wear.” I crossed my arms defensively again. “I didn’t know it would make the New York Post.”

“So you’re okay with people knowing it’s you in this picture, then?” she asked.

“Yes, of course. It’s not a big deal, but for the love of god, please stop badgering me about it. I have work to do.”

“Okay, good, because New York News called to book you on their morning show, and I said yes.”

She said the words at twice her normal speed.