“Is that the extent of the list?”

“No. I also drive the car of my dreams.”

Taylor perked up. “Oooh, what kind?”

“Mustang GTE.”

“Full package?”

“Full package.”

“Oh, you are definitely a boss bitch. Why did you think you needed someone like Craig in the first place?”

“Because even with this nice condo and her incredible job and her boss-bitch car—whatever that is—people will still question why she doesn’t have a man,” London said.

“Bingo.” Samiah sighed, her shoulders wilting in defeat. No matter how successful she became, there were some who would still think her life was lacking because she didn’t have a significant other.

But why should she care what those people thought? What anyone thought? Why in the hell was she putting herself through this kind of trauma for the sake of attaining some impractical, ideal life that would never be enough for those people?

Samiah sat up straight, planting her feet back on the floor.

“You know what? Fuck that,” she said. “Fuck. That.”

“Fuck what?” London asked.

“This. Craig. All of it. And fuck anyone who says what I’ve accomplished isn’t enough. Do you know how much time and effort I’ve put into finding someone? The hours I’ve wasted filling out dating profiles alone makes me wish I’d gone ahead and punched Craig in the stomach.”

“You’re right,” Taylor whispered, her voice tinged with awe. “You are absolutely right. Want to know how I ended up on that date with Craig? Because one of my friends signed me up on a dating site because she’s tired of imagining that I’m lonely.” She pointed to her chest. “I’m not lonely. I’m too busy to feel lonely. Hell, when I wasn’t live-tweeting our date last night, I was invoicing clients. My time would have been better spent at home working on my marketing plan.”

Taylor directed her attention at Samiah. “Maybe it’s time you rethink that checklist. If a con man like Craig is all there is out there, you’re better off using that time to do something that will actually make you happy.”

Her words collided with the beliefs Samiah had held since her freshman year of college. She had not gone into any of this lightly. She’d taken stock of her life, examined every crevice, and devised a list of goals that she firmly believed were crucial to living the kind of life she wanted to live.

Happiness had not been part of the equation when she’d made her plans. The concept was too vague for her to fully grasp it. She felt safer, more in control, when dealing in absolutes. True happiness—whatever that meant—would follow once she finally achieved these concrete items she’d set out to attain.