It would be a relief to have it over. Henry didn’t know how close they were to starting their own business. She couldn’t wait to tell him. Of course, she couldn’t tell him everything. Even if she had convinced herself it was all for the greater good, she didn’t have real feelings for Steve. Henry wasn’t the type to understand a situation as complicated as this. His drinking had become a problem. She wasn’t sure how to handle it, which didn’t happen very often. He used to talk about working toward a promotion at the firm; now he wasn’t even sketching very much. Going in late a few mornings each week wasn’t exactly the path to becoming a partner. It was obvious at some point she was going to have to step in; he wouldn’t be able to do it alone.

That morning, when she walked into Steve’s office, in her mind it was already done. She’d been growing bolder with each sale. Getting better. The week before, after selling a two-bedroom condo for 10 percent above market, she talked the property manager into introducing her to different owners in another complex he managed who were looking to sell. By the end of the day she picked up three more properties to represent.

Steve was drinking coffee and reading one of his pathetic paperbacks, Help Yourself to a Better You, which made him look insignificant.

“Why do you read that?”

“Claude,” he said with exasperation, “books like these are read by most of America and all of our industry. Research. Desperate types, searching for an answer. I’m reverse-psychology reading. We must understand the way they think. Does that make sense?”

“Of course that makes sense,” she said. “You’re speaking English.”

He laughed like he always did, chalking up her attitude to youth and ignorance. Mistake. Steve was also a master in underestimating.

“Listen to these chapter titles,” he went on. “ ‘Chapter One: Dressing Mutton Up as Lamb. Chapter Two: Be Your Best Self by Being Someone Else. Chapter Three: Eye Contact Is the Key to the Wallet—’ ”

“Steven, it’s all so pedestrian.”

“Steven?” he laughed. “My mother calls me Steven.”

“I just wanted to stop in and say thank you,” she said, taking a seat across from him. “I would not be able to do this if it hadn’t been for all you taught me.”

“What are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed.

“I don’t want you to worry. I won’t be suing you—”

“Sue me—”

“I just said I won’t be. Let me explain what’s going to happen. First, it’s not only over, it never happened. We never happened. Second, I’m taking the Tigglemans with me.”

“Claudine, what are you doing—”

“I believe chapter four is called ‘This Is the Price of Doing Business.’ ” She lingered, savoring the moment, then politely and pointedly said, “Goodbye.”