“You’re not, so I doubt it.” Eve hugged her.

“He did invite me to go to a fly-fishing lecture on Wednesday,” Audrey said in a voice that made it sound like it was an invite to something special.

“And you didn’t take him up on that?”

“Clearly, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“You could’ve thought of it as advice on dating men—any time they reference fish, just think of men.”

Audrey laughed. “Maybe I should email him back and say I’ll go.”

“No, no, that one needs to be put back in the water and left to swim free.”

“My profile says outgoing and looking for same.” Audrey sighed. “I need to give up on this dating thing until after the partnership decision.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Eve said. “You have to be able to have a life and do your job.”

She had argued about this with Eve before, but Eve just didn’t understand. Theoretically, she agreed with Eve. Just practically, it seemed impossible.

Eve gave her a knowing look. “Pete and I are both workaholics, and we manage it.”

Audrey nodded and said goodbye, retreating to her own apartment. She’d like a relationship like Eve’s. Pete and Eve both worked really hard, but still made time for each other—still supported each other. And the way Pete looked at Eve—like he couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky as to be with her. She sighed romantically.

She should call back her mother, who’d left two messages during the week, but Audrey knew she would ask about work. And her mother would worry if she told her about Malaburn and about Winnie’s news. She didn’t want to distress her mom. She could still see her mom biting her nails as she balanced the checkbook while Audrey did her homework at the dining room table.

She looked out the window at her backyard. The surfboard bar had disappeared and in its place was a wooden picnic table. That was quick. She had felt so alive Thursday night. She’d really had to keep on her toes with all the bantering. Her exchange with Jake had been so sparky—the opposite of this date. It wasn’t that she had time for a serious relationship, but she didn’t want to lose the connection. What had Jake said: he expected a neighborly welcome? She’d bake him chocolate chip cookies. She had time and it was only a small overture to keep a dialogue going. Either that or she needed to wheel her bicycle around, hoping he’d ask her to go biking again.

She mixed together a batch of cookies. While the cookies were baking, she found a round red tin leftover from Christmas, and taped her hand-written note to the lid:

Saturday, NYC

Dear Jake:

Welcome to the neighborhood and thank you for the party on Thursday.