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“The presentation you sent earlier is incomplete. Redo the last four slides, will you? I emailed you my notes.”

“I’ll get on it tomo—”

“Robert wants to see it tonight,” she cut her off. “This account is really important to him, after all.”

Rachel glanced at the time. So close.

She needed to focus on what was important here. She could go on a date anytime, but this could earn her the promotion she’d been trying so hard to get. Priorities, she reminded herself, straightening her spine. “You got it,” she said in the best can-do voice.

Two hours later, starving, she stumbled out of there. She’d been sitting at her desk, but her feet hurt with every step she took. Bushed, she went to her car and drove home carefully.

She let herself into the house and dropped her handbag on the floor by the door. “I’m home!”

Her grandma came out of the kitchen, an apron around her waist, wiping her hands on a towel. “Were you with Jamie?”

She wished. She kicked off her shoes and groaned in relief. “My boss hijacked me right before the end of the day.”

“Have you eaten?”

She shook her head. “I’m starving.”

“Come into the kitchen.” Lottie turned and walked back into her domain, purpose in her step.

She followed her grandmother into the kitchen and dropped onto a chair with another groan.

Lottie looked at her with fond amusement. “That good today, huh?”

“Worse.” She leaned over to stretch her back, looking at her feet since they were in front of her. The usual red spots from where her shoes rubbed her wrong were deeper tonight. Might as well kill two birds with one stone and massage them while she was there.

Her grandma took out a Tupperware from the fridge and opened the top with a muffledpop. “You know what I don’t understand?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” she replied with a rueful smile. Her grandmother didn’t believe in holding back. She always said—

“I didn’t live this long to keep my feelings to myself.”

Rachel grinned tiredly. Exactly. “What don’t you understand?”

“You’re turning thirty-five in just a matter of weeks.”

She winced. “Hit a girl when she’s down, why don’t you?”

“How much longer are you going to wait to start living?” Lottie paused, a full plate in hand. “And why do you give so much of yourself to people who don’t appreciate you?”

She blinked. “Wow. You put that right out there.”

“It was time.” She turned and put the plate in the microwave and punched some buttons. It beeped, lit up, and began to whir. “Your young man visited me today. It got me thinking.”

“My young man?” Sitting up, she goggled at her grandma. “Jamie?”

“You have more than one young man?” Lottie asked, hands on her hips, looking at her like she used to when she was little and said something ridiculous.

“Well, it’s not like he and I have gone out yet.” She crossed her arms, frowning. Then she dropped her arms and bit her lip. A silly sort of pleasure stole over her, and she felt delight at the corners of her mouth. “Jamie came here today?”

“He was out running again. I asked him if he was a drug dealer.”

“Oh jeez.” Rachel put a hand to her forehead. She could see how the conversation probably went. It was a big mistake watchingBreaking Badon Netflix with her. She could just imagine Jamie’s reaction.

“Don’t worry,” Lottie said, setting silverware on the table in front on her. “He assured me he isn’t.”

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