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I turned and smiled at my coworker. “Here I am. Lauglin, have you met Kir Norouzi?”
He held out his hand to shake. “Not officially, but it’s nice to meet you.”
Kir shook his hand.
Isabel said, “Goodbye, Lauglin.”
Kir held my hand on my lap.
Laughlin took my friend’s warning and walked away. Kir waited till he was gone and then asked, “Who was that guy?”
Britney quickly said, “One of Avril’s annoying coworkers. Glad you were there for her.”
Kir’s phone rang. He let my hand go. “Well, I have to get going, but, Avril, you have my cell, so if you ever want to talk about anything, call.”
I wished I was that shameless. My body tingled to lean in for a kiss, but I only said, “You too, Kir.”
He lingered. I sighed—he smelled woodsy and sweet and wonderful. Then he waved and left.
I pivoted back to talk to my friends, and Britney asked, “What was that?”
I blinked. “At least the office gossip will report he’s seen me with Kir.”
Isabel shook her head. “Not Lauglin. Kir clearly likes you.”
Impossible. We’d talked about how we weren’t a match as we sat on a beach in Hawaii. “We’re just friends.”
Miley said, “Right, because we should just be friends with sexy, hot trillionaires who are clearly into us. That makes total sense.”
Everyone laughed, and I relaxed. They were right, but I wasn’t going to throw myself at him. I had too much going on.
* * *
Hours later, I marched up and stood in front of the red door to my Chinatown apartment. I let myself in. Most of the analysts had much nicer addresses. I’d been downsizing for a year. But it was home.
I slipped my shoes off. Soon I wouldn’t have a place to call my own, but leaving was worth it. As I headed to take a shower, my phone rang.
For a second, I wished it was Kir, but then I shook off that thought as I saw who was calling. “Hey, Abby, what’s going on?”
“I’m canceling the next phase of treatment.”
I bounced on my feet. “Why would you do that?”
“The treatment is one million dollars. You don’t have that.”
We’d sold our parents’ old house to pay for us to get this far. I closed my eyes. “We’ll figure it out.”
By “we’ll,” I meant I’ll. I had to find a way to pay for everything my sister needed. She’d fought for me when I was a kid, and now it was my turn. I wouldn’t let her down.
Chapter Three
Avril
* * *
At my desk, I analyzed a spreadsheet of expenses. During my break, I’d found a new medical loan to apply for. So I multitasked. At lunch, I slipped outside to the patio to call the loan manager.
After our discussion, he said, “I’m sorry, but your debt-to-income ratio is too high.”
