“I think Janae was embarrassed after the snowstorm. She got a little too tipsy. We went a little fast,” David said. “We’re taking it slow. I’m getting a sense that she needs that right now.”

Dorsey poured the drink out into the sink and started again. “There are rooms full of women who would’ve called you back in minutes, you know.”

“I don’t want those women, and if you’re honest with yourself, neither do you.”

Dorsey tipped more tequila into the mug. “Against my better judgment, I followed up with one of those ‘no’ women. I thought we were having a great time, and then she runs into someone she knows, and it’s like she didn’t want to be seen with me in front of anyone. And do you know what I did?” Dorsey asked. “I suggested she ride home with the asshole.”

David shook his head. “It just sounds like she was being discreet, Dorsey.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, since this meme stuff, you’re a pretty public figure. It just sounds like discretion to me.”

Dorsey blinked. It was like someone splashed a warm bucket of water over his head.

Discretion, not rejection.

Liza had a hell of a reason to play it cool with him in public. Hell, if he was in his right mind, he would have been walking five steps behind her himself—especially in front of an absolute wolf like Isaiah. They were recognizable people on opposite sides of a struggle.

What if the board had seen images of him looking like a besotted fool? He would be out on his ear. And how could he have put her in that position of choosing between a fun night out and her entire reputation? He remembered her burning look. He had misunderstood, and worse, he had been unchivalrous. The phone burned in his hand. He took a deep breath and texted Liza.

Question number 18: What is your most treasured memory?

Nothing.

Okay, he deserved that.

“Dorsey, I’m starting to think your phone is the only person in this room.” David stood up to go.

“I’m sorry.” Dorsey snuck another glance at his phone. “But I see your point in giving Janae another chance. Is there some gift you can give her to make up—I mean, you have nothing to make up. I’m just thinking aloud here. Maybe we could get them a Christmas tree?” Dorsey’s mind raced, and his heart did a little flip. David’s eternal optimism was actually useful.

“A Christmas tree? Are you insane? Why?” David laughed.

“I think it would mean a lot.”

“I can’t lug a Douglas fir up five flights of stairs!”

“I’ll help you deliver it.” If he had misinterpreted Liza and left her to take the train, there weren’t enough trees in the world that would bring him back into her good graces.

MODERN WOMAN