Beating a hasty retreat, I cross the hall to my door. Vivian lingers on the threshold, leaning with a shoulder on her doorframe.

“Good luck on your date,” she calls after me. “I hope she isn’t a witch this time.”

I unlock the door and pause for a second before getting in, locking eyes with Vivian. “And I hope he won’t bring his mother.”

I wink, and stare in satisfaction at Vivian’s jaw as it drops in outrage. Before all hell can break loose, I seek refuge in the safety of my office.

Twenty-five

Vivian

As I get ready for dinner in the city Saturday night, I’m not as enthusiastic as I should be. Maybe because, so far, the agency has only set me up with losers. I’ve complained, but, according to Barbara, my Dating Specialist, the next great American novelist was on his first spin and hadn’t been vetted yet. And with Roger, she told me I was the only woman to ever be approved for a second date, so she had no way of knowing he’d bring his mother along.

When Barbara and I got off the phone, I didn’t know if I should be flattered or scared to death that mama’s-boy liked me so much.

Anyway, my dating specialist has assured me she’s stepped up her game, and that my date tonight should leave me breathless. Barbara has described my mystery man as handsome and a real catch. So, why can’t I summon some excitement?

I wonder how Lucas feels. From what Lee has told me, his dates have been even worse than mine—not to mention the dreadful one I witnessed firsthand. The agency must’ve found a pretty special woman for him, too, tonight if they hope to keep their reputation and our business.

A little ball of acid spreads in my stomach. Oh, I must already be hungry. Weird, because I ate a substantial lunch with Tegan today, to celebrate putting her father behind us once and for all. Yesterday, after speaking with Lucas, I drafted two affidavits. The first, detailing what happened to me as a student all those years ago. And the other, reporting Tegan’s testimony of last weekend. This morning we signed and posted them, and by now, the envelopes should be on their way to Boston. And if that pig ever tries any legal action for defamation, a simple DNA test would bulletproof our defense.