How manipulative, she thought, for him to invoke her father. “You don’t get it. I love my job.”

“That’s great. Not many people can say that. But I’ve never seen a thirty-year-old Playboy Bunny is all. Sherri, don’t you see? I’m not judging you.”

His words rang hollow. Everyone judged her: Arthur, the people back home, the other Bunnies, Gloria, all the guests. She wanted her relationship with Arthur to be as simple as it seemed at his cottage.

“You shouldn’t be offended if I recognize your potential. All I’m saying is that you might want to consider using this time in your life to become something rather than be something.”

“You don’t get it.” She felt like crying. “Just being something, being anything, it’s hard for me.”

He parked the car and ran the knuckle of his index finger down her cheek. “I know.”

The doormen in their caps and black suits stood like palace guards in front of the entrance. “I’ve got to go.”

“Sherri, you can’t be mad at me for telling you that you’re smart and special.” He leaned across his seat for a kiss, and she responded by kissing him back like a brother. “Come on, we had a great time this past week. Remember?”

She nodded. Just returning to work and Gloria was anxiety-producing enough, and now she was wrestling with all the ways that Arthur made her question her decisions and her future.

He pulled her into his arms. “I’m going to go insane with desire for you. Like a horse rearing up with blinders on.”

Sherri blushed, embarrassed. She wasn’t used to talking about sex out loud.

He gently turned her head so that she had to look at him. “It’s not just me with these feelings, right? It’s so good between us, so easy. Like how it’s supposed to be. You feel it too, right?”

“Sure,” she said. “I do.” This was true. What she didn’t say was that those feelings were problems in and of themselves. She reached for her bag.

“When’s your next night off? I’ll pick you up after work. I’ll rub your feet … and everything else.”

“I don’t know if I’ll even have a job.”

He sank back into his chair and sighed. “You want to have a party? Would that make you happy?”

Sherri brightened. The word “party” chased away the word “college.” “I’d love that, Arthur. I really would.”

“So, let’s have a party.”

“How about Sunday night? That’s when we’re slow. People will have off.”

“Sure,” he said. “Invite a few friends over.” He reached his arm across the back of her seat and fingered the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. “Don’t forget about me, Sher. Don’t forget about us.”