Page 41 of Little Did You Know

"She's a virgin."

"And? So what?" She shrugged. "Does that make her stupid or incapable of understanding your rules?"

"No, but she doesn't know how she'll feel after she has sex. She might get attached."

"Nick, you sound ridiculous." She laughed. "You know, it's time to let go of some of your rules. I'm not saying you need to marry the girl, but you should make the rules as you go."

"I like the rules. It keeps things less messy."

"Nick, what did you tell me last time you were here?"

I took a moment to think about the last time I was here and what exactly I'd told her. "That I was bored."

"Exactly. You said that you are bored with the same old same old and that you wanted something different, but you didn't know what. Maybe Olivia is what you were looking for. Again, I'm not saying you need to get married, but you can be friends with benefits."

"I don't know, Kat."

"Nick, I'm going to be honest with you because I'm your friend." Her tone shifted, the calm of the therapist giving way to something sharper. My feet stilled against her carpet, mid-pace. I met her gaze, my jaw tightening until I heard a faint click in my ear. I inclined my head once, a soldier preparing for the blow.

"It's time to move on." She paused, each word landing like a pebble in still water. "It's time to let Victoria go."

My fingers curled into fists at my sides, nails digging half-moons into my palms. "What are you talking about?" The photo on her desk caught my eye—the one from graduation, Victoria's smile frozen in time, her arm around Kat's shoulders, both of them suspended in a happiness that felt like ancient history. I forced my fingers to uncurl. "I moved on from Victoria a long time ago." The lie slipped out smooth as river stones

"Have you?" Kat's chair creaked as she leaned forward, elbows on her desk, her silver bracelets clinking together like wind chimes in a storm. Her eyes tracked my reflexive nod, seeing through it as she always had. "Look at the girls you sleep with, Nick." Each word measured, precise as a surgeon's cut. "They are all substitutes for Victoria. They all look identical to Victoria." She tapped the edge of the photo frame, turning it toward me like evidence in a trial.

I stalked to the window, putting my back to her. "Don't psychoanalyze me, Kat."

"I'm your friend, and you asked for my advice, so I'm being honest with you. You need to decide to either move on or get back with her." She was right, and it pissed me off. I was over Victoria, but I wasn't over what she'd done to me. "Nick, I think you should know that Tori will be back in town in a few days, and she's on the prowl again."

"What do you mean?"

"Her current fiancé wanted a prenuptial agreement signed before the marriage, and she refused, so he left. She's headed back to Florida. She's my friend too, but I disagree with her way of life, and I don't want you to get hurt again."

Automatically feeling defensive, I said, "She won't hurt me."

"Okay, well, it sounds like you need to do some thinking." She walked toward me and patted me on the shoulder. "Let me know if you need to talk again."

"Thanks, Kat." The word felt inadequate for the weight she'd just dropped on my shoulders.

I still had no idea what I was going to do but I knew everything Kat said was right.

The late morning sun slanted through my windshield as I merged onto the highway, Kat's words about Victoria echoing in my head like a warning bell. But with each exit sign I passed, thoughts of Victoria's return faded like old photographs, replaced by increasingly vivid images of Olivia. The dread that had driven me from the house this morning morphed with every mile marker, anticipation building in my chest until my hands itched to grip something other than the steering wheel.

I pulled into my reserved spot, practically rushing to the elevator.

The doors opened to our floor, and I found Rachel sitting behind her desk, filing her nails.

I scanned Hannah's empty office, before turning to Rachel. "Where's Hannah?" The question came out sharper than intended.

Rachel's nail file paused mid-stroke, suspended above her pinky finger. Her gaze flicked up to mine, assessing. "She went to lunch with the homeless girl." Her glossed lips curled into a sneer, the peach color suddenly garish against her pale skin.

"Where?" I planted my hands on the edge of her desk, leaning forward

She flicked her wrist dismissively, the diamond tennis bracelet catching the light. "It's not my day to babysit them." She swiveled her chair, presenting me with her profile—a deliberate dismissal.

My palm cracked against her desk before I could stop myself, the sound echoing down the hallway. Her expensive moisturizer bottles danced across the glass surface, one teetering dangerously at the edge. Rachel's manicured nails dug into her armrests as she jolted upright, her eyes widening, the color draining from her face save for two spots of angry red high on her cheekbones.

"Rachel," the word came out low and measured, "do you like your job?" I'd had enough of her attitude.

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