It was raining, one of those soft, spring rains that wash down the streets and refresh the trees and flowers, and make you think, for a few minutes anyway, the whole planet is a wondrous, self-sustaining garden. Rosemary loved rain like this, unless, of course, she was trying to hail a cab. She stood in the gutter with her arm out as taxi after taxi sped past her. Her hair was wet and her sweater and dress were clinging to her back. Self-pity was sneaking up on her, getting ready to grab her by the throat. She couldn’t get Pauline Anderton’s voice out of her head—Someday someday someday someday. She didn’t understand how a rocky and raw and unruly sound like that could spark in her so much strong, uninvited longing.

Some creep on the street let out a piercing whistle and—of course—a cab appeared from nowhere, drove right past her, and stopped halfway down the block. She ought to run down there and start a fight. When she looked closer, she saw it was Melanie, that little dyke business partner of Russell’s who’d paid so much attention to her at the party. Can I get you another drink? Would you like to try one of these hors d’oeuvres? I’ll bet your students are all in love with you. Was that guy bothering you? Well, if she had the balls to whistle like that, she’d earned the cab. Except she wasn’t getting in; she was holding the door open and beckoning Rosemary.

“Come on,” she called out.

What chivalry! Rosemary brushed the rain off her hair, straightened out her dress, and walked down the street. Slowly. She had gorgeous legs.

“Thank you,” she told Melanie. “You’re a real gentleman.”

Judging from the grin, she’d taken it as a compliment. “I try my best,” she said.

Rosemary got in and Melanie shut the door behind her. She leaned her head into the open window. “Have a good trip, Rosemary Boyle.”

Rosemary was surprised by her own disappointment. “I assumed we’d be sharing,” she said.

“I’m going downtown.”

“What a shame.” Still I’m sure to meet him one day . . . maybe . . .“Why don’t you come along for the ride? My treat.”

“You mean it?” Melanie asked, already opening the door.