“There were budget cuts, and I was let go, which was a blow to my ego and my bank account.”

Pete chuckled at this sympathetically, and his laugh was comforting. I took a deep breath and settled into my stool, the nerves starting to slide away. I could do this.

“And then, if that wasn’t enough, my dress got stuck in the subway door and ripped open,” I continued, and this time I managed a mostly normal laugh. “Even by New York standards, it was kind of a disaster.”

“And a stranger stepped in to help,” Pete said, encouraging me.

“Yes,” I said. “Another passenger on the subway very kindly offered me his jacket to wear.”

“His suit jacket!” Jenna said with a big, bright smile.

“Yes, which was so nice of him, because I didn’t quite feel like mooning the entire city on my walk home from the subway. Not that I have anything against butts! Butts are beautiful.” Dear god, the words just kept tumbling out of my mouth without my brain approving them first. “Just, you know, I want to keep my butt private, for now.”

“That’s understandable!” Jenna said, and gave me an enthusiastic nod that sent her equally enthusiastic ponytail bobbing again.

“Lots of people were stepping in to help, but the coat saved the day. And that’s why I’m here, really. To say thank you. And, of course, to return his jacket.”

Pete turned his attention from me to the camera directly across from him. “Well, let’s bring out your sartorial savior, Hayes Montgomery the Third, and get his side of things.”

Of course a man who dressed like he’d stepped out of a Brooks Brothers catalog had a last name as a first name. But the “Third” tacked on to the end was surprising. How fancy.

From out of the corner of my eye, I saw a producer in a headset signal him toward the empty stool next to me. Our interaction on the subway had been such a blur—quite literally, what with my eyes full of tears the whole time—that I hadn’t fully taken him in. But now it seemed like he was walking toward me in slow motion. And, wow, was there a lot of him.

He was taller than I remembered, and lean, with an aloof air as cool as the blue of his perfectly tailored suit, which accentuated the angles of his body. I offered a wide smile in his direction but got just a nod in return. He sat down, and I watched his pants pull up at the ankles. His navy socks were peppered with a globe pattern. Huh. Was Mr. Hot Suit the Third a bit of a quirky weirdo? I certainly hoped so.

“Hayes is a nationally recognized pioneer in the field of socially responsible investing.” Pete tapped his note cards against his knee. “That’s quite a résumé, Hayes!”