Page 3 of The Breakup Broker

CRISIS. Bride’s real camp friend just posted a photo from the actual camp. I need a new backstory ASAP.

Maddy

Tell them you were at a sister camp across the lake.

Ivy

There was no lake.

Me

Say you were the kid of the archery instructor who worked in town. No one remembers the townies.

The train lurched toward Grand Central Station, theskyline rising like jagged promises on the horizon. I straightened my blazer and prepared to become Jennifer. Using another name was part of the job. A layer of separation. Jennifer Walsh handled the messy parts of love, so Savvy Honeysucker didn’t have to.

At least, that’s how it was supposed to work. The city was big enough that I should feel safe, invisible. But every so often, I wondered what would happen if someone—ifhe—recognized me. The thought tightened around my ribs like a trap. One wrong step, and everything I’d worked so hard to compartmentalize could come crashing down.

CHAPTER TWO

Savvy

Rise and Grind Coffee took pretentious coffee culture to new heights. It was all exposed brick and twenty-dollar avocado toast. Their menu board looked like a chemistry experiment gone wrong, with drinks that required a PhD to pronounce. But they served the best-overpriced coffee in Manhattan, which made them the perfect spot for delivering bad news to people who treated their morning order like a TED talk.

I claimed my strategic corner spot—another lesson learned from years of experience. Like real estate, it was location, location, location. The corner table offered clear sight lines to both exits, acoustic privacy from the espresso machine’s screech, and just enough witnesses to prevent anything too dramatic. Plus, the leather banquette meant no risk of pins-and-needles legs at crucial moments.

I’d learned that one the hard way. During my first month on the job, I’d chosen one of those Instagram-worthy cafés where the furniture was designed for photos, notfunction. Try maintaining professional dignity while your foot’s asleep and you’re perched on a wobbly metal stool that could double as modern art. The client had cried. I’d stumbled when I tried to stand, and we’d both ended up wearing his artisanal cold brew.

Now, I had a mental map of every decent meeting spot in Manhattan. This corner at Rise and Grind Coffee was my favorite—good coffee, better sight lines, and actual chairs designed for sitting. A true professional never lets furniture interfere with their performance.

As I settled into my seat, the morning crowd flowed around me, each table offering a glimpse into relationships at every conceivable stage. A couple by the window was definitely on the rocks—he kept checking his phone under the table while she stirred her coffee like she was trying to create a whirlpool that would sweep her away.

At the bar, a woman in yoga pants was negotiating a drink order with more substitutions than a high-stakes contract while FaceTiming her therapist. It was just another Wednesday in Manhattan, where therapy sessions were less about privacy and more like a badge of status—loud enough for everyone in a ten-foot radius to overhear.

My phone lit up with another group chat.

Maddy

The proposal guy asked if we could train squirrels to carry the ring.

Me

Better than pigeons.

Maddy

That was ONE TIME. And they were doves.

Ivy

For the first time in years, the bride wants me to be in chartreuse. CHARTREUSE. With ruffles. And a bustle.

Me

At least my uniform is reusable. I’ve crushed over a hundred dreams in this same blue blazer. Got to go. Client meeting in five. See you tonight.

I tucked my phone away as the café’s morning rush hit its peak. Nine o’clock approached, and I pulled out my Jennifer Walsh business cards, straightened my blazer, and waited. In exactly three minutes, I would decide if this job called for my sympathetic head tilt or my professional nod of understanding.

The bell above the door chimed. Right on schedule, Navy Suit walked in. His Manhattan blend of confidence and coffee snobbery became the standard issue with an MBA and a trust fund.

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