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“Please—I tellyouse,” I say, imitating our Aunt Mel from Staten Island. “I am there, come hell or highwatta,arright?”

“Youse bettabe, I’m tellin’youse… Shit. Piper’s home. We never had this conversation—but we aren’t done talking about Boss Butt!”

She ends the call.

That kid. I have no idea what Piper is thinking.Maclan.

I open up my messages app and scroll through the many, many text conversations with Declan. He definitely does not look at me longingly with his beautiful amber eyes. But he is kind of fun to text with. And look at. But terrible to work for. I can’t even imagine how awful he’d be to date.

Suddenly, a new text notification pops up. From Boss Butt.

DECLAN: Happy Saturday, Cooper. You at home?

“Shit!”

DECLAN: I’m just asking if you’re at home.

“Shit shit shit.”

ME: Why do you ask?

DECLAN: Because I’m in the neighborhood.

I burst out laughing. Is he kidding me? What is this—a booty call? Am I supposed to get all excited? I tell him I’m at home, and he’d say,Oh good, so you’re not busy—I need you to do something for me.“Not falling for it,” I mumble to myself.

ME: I’m out running errands all day. And night. Unfortunately.

DECLAN: Really? Because your landlady let me in and I’m standing outside the door to your apartment right now. Pretty sure I heard a woman swearing and laughing in there. Should I call the cops? Maybe someone broke in.

“Shit.”

DECLAN: I think I just heard her again. Kind of a potty mouth. Sounds like trouble.

ME: Just tell me right now if you’re here to murder me.

DECLAN: That depends on how long you’re going to make me wait out here.

For purely professional reasons, I run to my bathroom, as quietly as possible.

ME: Could you first explain why I have the honor of receiving you at my home on a Saturday?

I roll a little perfume oil onto some pulse points and floss my teeth and gargle with mouthwash and apply lip gloss. Because my mother and my landlady would be appalled if they knew I received a gentleman caller without having done so. Even if the gentleman is my stinker of a boss.

DECLAN: I’m considering letting you have Christmas off.

ME: Go on…

DECLAN: And there’s something I’d like to discuss with you. Something that I didn’t want to discuss with you at the office. Something that is not work-related.

Gulp.

DECLAN: There’s a legal agreement involved. It’s not creepy.

ME: I’ll be the judge of that.

DECLAN: Exactly how large of an apartment do you live in? Because it’s taking you a really long time to reach the door.

I reach the door and open it. AndScrooge me, he might look even better unshaven, in a beanie, jeans, and black puffy jacket than he does all groomed in a suit and fancy wool trench coat. What an asshole.