“Night.” He raked his hand through his hair. “Or usually night. But since I was up all night with my sister and Luna, this beer might put me to sleep.” He stretched out in the deck chair, looking relaxed. The clouds shifted above, forming frothy patterns in the sky, with hints of discernible shapes. The wind whispered, as if to promise more. And she hoped something would happen. “Next?”

“Bicycle or motorcycle?” she asked.

“Bicycle,” he said.

“Really? I could see you on a motorcycle.”

“I can’t see you on a motorcycle.”

“No, I’m too cautious for that.” A pleasantly warm night breeze caressed her skin.

“And being a lawyer tends to strengthen that tendency, I’ve noticed. But I would say too smart,” he said. “My turn: hamburger or foie gras.”

“Hamburger.” A cat meowed several backyards over, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing.

“My type of girl.” He asked, “Comedy or drama?”

“Comedy. You?”

“Comedy clearly. I get enough drama in my job.”

“Do you? Like what?” she asked.

“Like the talent deciding that they suddenly don’t feel up to doing some radio promo I’ve set up for them,” he said. “And you—any day-to-day drama in the law firm?”

“More than I’d like, lately.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“The litigation department just lost a key bid to defend this big lawsuit. The client picked another firm, even though we’ve been their outside counsel for years. It’s a huge loss. If the litigation department isn’t doing well, they may not make us all partners.”

Another apartment light went out. It was getting late.

“How many of you are up?” he asked.

“Four. One guy in London who seems to be a sure thing as he just closed a large corporate deal, a guy here, another woman, and me,” she said. “The other woman thinks that the partnership will make only one woman, so I feel like she’s trying to undermine me in the case we’re working on together. I’m probably just being sensitive.”

“Do you think they’ll only make one woman?”

“No, but they may make only two partners if litigation isn’t doing well,” she said.

“I thought the process was getting smoothed out: that you’ll be told if you’re not going to make it.”

“You’re definitely told if there’s no way they’ll consider you. But it’s still not a sure thing that you’ll make it,” she said. Not with the firm’s current fraught financial situation. “Your dad’s firm won that bid.”

The lights went out from the windows in the adjoining garden, bathing them in darkness.

“I guess that’s our cue to call it a night.”

“Yes,” she said. Now was the chance for something to happen. She glanced at him, then looked away.