Chapters (39)
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Praise for the Work of Mia Sosa
- By Mia Sosa
- About the Publisher
“No, I was just wondering if you’d be willing to give me Dean’s number.” Rey waggles his eyebrows. “He seems more promising than the average white guy. Since you’re not interested in him in that way, I figured—”
“Shut up, Rey,” I say flatly.
He smirks at me. “So stingy with your booty calls.”
I’m tempted to wrestle Rey to the ground and make him cry uncle, but he’s built like a man who can kick anyone’s ass, and I’d probably sprain something in the process. “Don’t disrespect him like that. Dean’s not a booty call.”
“With all this hand-wringing, I can tell,” Rey says, his expression smug and knowing. “As one of the most prolific poets of our time, Lin-Manuel Miranda, once wrote, ‘Fucking is easy, young man, loving is harder.’”
I puff out my cheeks. Should I even claim this person as a relative? “He never wrote that.”
“Did too.”
I reach over and squeeze Rey’s hand. “You’re a mess, and I love you for it, but leave the advice to Lina and the tias. Please.”
Besides, they’ve given me enough to think about. Now I just need to figure out how to move forward.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dean
After an overlong networking lunch with a prospective client, I return to Olney & Henderson and find Michael sitting in a guest chair in my office.
“Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you?” I bark out as I round my desk and take a seat. I’m cranky, and I have no idea why.
“Don’t be an ingrate. I come bearing news.”
My gaze snaps to his; the new emails in my inbox can wait. “Good news?”
“Promising news. It’s about Kimberly Bailey.”
I’ve been on the edge of my seat wondering whether she’ll accept the firm’s offer. “Promising” doesn’t sound like she did. “What can you tell me?”
“Basically, she’s down to two firms: us and Gibson Connolly. She had questions for us—about long-term compensation and her path to partnership—and she was up-front in saying she’s asking the same questions of GC. So we’re in a holding pattern, but we’re not out of the running.”
“You’re right. That is promising.”
“That’s not all, either. Your name came up—in a good way. And given that Henderson’s been your biggest detractor, I’d say your efforts to reel in Bailey have helped you clear a major hurdle. Henderson even pointed out that you’d stepped up to the plate despite the recent setback in your personal life.”
Is that how they see my breakup with Ella? I suppose in the grand scheme of things it technically is, but if it hadn’t happened, I never would have spent so much time with Solange. I’d hardly consider that a setback. “Did they mention Peter?”