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Carly and Ricky hug me. Shaking my head, I let them. “You guys are crazy. Do you realize that these guys are all multimillionaires who don’t need our cheering?”

Ricky winks at me. “Oh, we all enjoy some genuine appreciation. You can’t buy that. No matter how much money you have.”

I nod. Of course he’s right. “Maybe I forget that sometimes.” Behind all the accounts and requests we manage, there are always people. No matter what I think of them.

Carly sits back down at her laptop as the final whistle blows. The closing buzzer signals the New York Monarchs’ celebration.

“All right.” She nods at me. “The report and the cover letter are now in your inbox, and you decide who gets the email.”

“Okay.” I stand up and turn off the projector. “Go home now. I’ll take a quick glance at this and head out.”

Carly tilts her head. “But no extra laps. You need to unwind. The email can wait until tomorrow.”

“I promise, cross my heart, that I’ll be on my way in less than half an hour. But I don’t want to put this off any longer.”

The two of them leave together, and I sit at my desk one last time that day. Carly has done an excellent job drafting everything, and I don’t even spot a single typo. On the spur of the moment, I put Evan in the cc.

This is a purely professional decision and has absolutely nothing to do with me looking for a reason to get in touch with him. He’s made it crystal clear that he’s not interested. And rightly so.

The next day the city is still cold, and the wind blows icy around my nose. Still, the fresh air does me good. Maybe it’s even bringing me some clarity. Nah . . . I wouldn’t go that far.

Luckily, Aanya’s employee delivers my dinner that evening, and I’m ultimately glad to finally make it back to my apartment.

As I’m eating my favorite chickpeas straight from the bag, I get a text message and open it right away.

From Evan.

My heart starts racing. He didn’t send an email. He replied to me directly.

I swipe across the screen gruffly.

Thanks for your email. You said that I could reach out to you if I had any questions. There are a couple of things I’d like to discuss. Alone. Without Derek.

This is still strictly business. I understand his need to talk without Derek very well.

Sure. No problem.

What kind of answer is that?

Thanks. Can you come over to my apartment?

The safest place for him.

Just let me know when.

The dots in the reply box bounce, disappear, bounce again.

Is he thinking about when it’s convenient for him? Is he checking his calendar?

It’s been a minute or even longer.

I’d prefer right away.

Holy . . . The dots keep bouncing.

I promise, I do have questions about your work, and of course you don’t have to come to me right away. It just felt right. Or something.

There are different ways I could react. The most sensible thing would be to ignore the comment. But I don’t want to do that. Evan is taking a risk by telling me this so openly. The least I can do is be just as honest.