There's a quiet knock on my office door, so I quickly fold my phone and throw it back into my purse. Without her having said a word, I already know it's Suki on the other side of the door.

I call out, "Come in!" and am greeted with the sight of my perky and reliable salesgirl. To put it mildly, Suki is an absolute sweetheart, which is why my customers love her. She's a tiny little thing with dimples and dark hair cut in an asymmetrical bob. She's also got this fabulous, ageless skin that makes her look much younger than her twenty-five years, and which will probably serve to let her pass herself off as eighteen eternally, the bitch. She came to work for me straight out of college, armed with a degree from FIT, fresh-faced and ready to tackle the fashion world.

She wound up here instead.

"Hi Shana. Um, Kim and I were just wondering if you were okay."

Peeking over Suki's head is Kim, my Number Two. Tall, blonde, classically beautiful face, killer bod. She pulls no punches, which is why I love her. She's got a great head for business, so naturally, my mother and she became fast friends from Day One. They're a force to be reckoned with around here. It's great for when I feel like slacking off, but kind of annoying when I try to take back the reins from time to time. Sometimes I think Kim forgets that this store is mine.

"You've been cooped up in here all morning, what's the deal?"

I lean back in my chair, sliding my glasses back on top of my head, buying time until I can figure out how to answer. I try not to bring my personal life into the workplace, but what the hell. Seeing as my best friend just blew me off for a freakin' house, I need to talk to someone.

"The 'deal,' chickadees, is that Tom and I broke up."

"Oh no!" they both answer in unison, which pleases me to no end. At least these two can appreciate the gravity of my situation.

"Yep. I'm afraid it's true. I guess it's for the best, though. I mean, seriously, the guy just didn't get me, you know? Like, ever."

I see the sympathetic looks playing across their faces, then a silent exchange which I don't comprehend.

"That sucks, Shana."

"Yeah. Want us to go key his car?"

Kim's offer makes me laugh. I only wish she were serious.

Her voice breaks my thought. "You know, Suki and I are planning to hit the cigar bar at Milan tonight. You should come with us. It'll help you get over Tom to mingle with some hot, available, rich guys."

Suki is shaking her head so enthusiastically, I'm afraid it's going to snap off.

"I don't know, girls. I don't want to cramp your style."

Suki harrumphs, "Oh, please. What style? Stop being a martyr and let's go get your drink on."

Kim adds, "Yeah, Shane. God forbid you actually have some fun for once."

It's funny, but sometimes I forget that these two only see me as some workaholic, ballbusting career woman. If they only knew. Hell, maybe a night out is exactly what I need to forget Tom for a little while.

"Alright, screw it. Count me in!

* * *

"He is totally checking you out, Shana."

Suki has been assessing the situation behind me for the past twenty minutes. I'd noticed the great-looking guy within the first minute of entering the bar at Milan, a hip restaurant catering to the rich and the beautiful. As expected, the crowd tonight is no exception. But there is one particularly beautiful man standing out among them.

"Is he by himself?" I ask, feeling like an immature idiot.

"Sure looks that way. He's definitely not with another woman, if that's what you mean."

"Yeah, well, with my luck, that means he's probably gay."

Suki laughs. "He is not gay. I'm telling you, he's checking you out. See for yourself."

At that, I turn my body slowly around, taking a casual sip from my drink, trying to make it look as though I'm searching the crowd beyond his head for Kim, who is, in actuality, schmoozing it up with the group of CPAs behind Suki.

As it turns out, he is, in fact, looking at me and he is, in fact, not buying my ruse. I catch his eye long enough to see him grin and shake his head at me.

I put a hand on my hip in defiance (but flirting just a little, too). He crooks a finger in my direction, silently beckoning me. I feel Suki's hand at my back, practically shoving me toward him.

I walk over to stand in front of the vacant stool next to his and place my empty glass on the bar. I turn to him all coy and innocence. "Yes?"

The handsome stranger turns sideways and drops an elbow over the back of his barstool. "It's not working."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The shy act."

I raise my eyebrows at this.

"No act, pal. I just came over to get a drink."

He motions to the bartender with a finger pointed at my glass. "Let me get that for you." Then he turns the full force of his gaze on me and smiles out, "Charles Giamatti. Everyone always wants to call me Charlie, but it's Charles, got it? And you?"

He extends his hand, which I take, and answer, "No problem, Charlie. Shana Benedict. Everyone always wants to call me."

* * *

"Shana, you did not say that!"

"I did! I swear."

"Oh, you are such a loser."

"No, he loved it, I'm telling you."

Livia and I are just cracking up as I tell her the story of meeting Charlie. It's really late, but I just had to talk to her. She'd called a couple times today, but I was still annoyed at the abrupt way she'd gotten off the phone with me earlier and had made the decision to blow her off. But after the night I just had, I wanted to revisit every detail all over again.

"So, is he cute?"

"Cuter than cute. He's hot! Thirty-fiveish, pretty tall, blondish hair, great dimples. Very intense eyes. I think they're green, but it was kind of dark in there."

"Mmm. Nice."

"Oh! And get this—he lives in Franklin Lakes! I wonder what his house looks like. You think he's got one of those huge mansions?"

"Probably. In that town, there's not much else. Oh my God! I totally forgot to tell you. We got the house! I tried to reach you after that call from Weichert with the news, but I got your voice mail. Didn't you get my message?"

I did. But how am I supposed to admit that I intentionally didn't call her back about it? Then I went out and got distracted when I met Charlie...

"Hey. That reminds me—Charlie's in construction! You have to ask Jack if he knows him. Wouldn't that be weird?"

"Yeah, for sure. But I think maybe I'll wait to call him tomorrow. You know, during waking hours, you freak."

"I guess it is kinda late."

"Kinda! But it's good to hear you happy. Does this mean..."

"What?"

"Stupid question, but I was going to ask if this meant you were over Tommy already."

What, she just can't resist bringing up my failed relationship? She just said I sounded happy. Why can't she let me be happy?

Then again, I guess I'm throwing her a bit of a curve here. Just this morning, I was crying about the breakup. Next thing she knows, I'm raving about some new guy.

"For the moment, I guess. Charlie sure will be a nice distraction in the meantime."

"Sounds like it. Good for you! I gotta say, I'm sort of relieved."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this might sound horrible, but to be honest, I was pretty freaked out when you and Tom started dating. I was so worried about how it was going to end, you know? But you guys both sound like you're already over it. So I guess it's all good."

She's kidding, right?

"What the hell kind of thing is that to say?"

"What?"

"He's over it??? What the fuck, Liv!"

"Wait. What?"

"Stop saying 'what,' Barbarino. Do you really think I want to hear about Tommy already being 'over' our relationship within twenty four hours of him breaking up with me? Who says something like that?"

"Shane... I'm sorry. I didn't mean that he was over it, I meant that it looks like you guys breaking up isn't going to be the nuclear meltdown I feared it would be. Especially since you've already met someone else. I mean, think of how difficult it would be for me and Jack if—"

"How in the fuck did mine and Tommy's breakup become about you and Jack?"

Unbelievable.

"It's not. You're not hearing me. Alright, you know what? Maybe I read this wrong. I shouldn't have brought this subject up so soon."

"You're damn right you shouldn't have!"

"Shane, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry."

"Yeah right."

I slam my phone down on the receiver, fuming. I shove Snowball over to his side of the bed and whip my Mackenzie-Childs comforter up around my ringing ears.

Christ.

I shouldn't have had so much to drink tonight. But I was having such a great time with Charlie that it seemed every time I looked at the glass in my hand, it was empty. He just kept refilling my drinks and I just kept on having fun all night.

Until about thirty seconds ago.

I realize that the ringing in my ears isn't coming from inside my head, but rather from the phone beside it, the sound muffled through my blanket.

I toss the covers aside and pick up the phone.

"What."

"Seriously? Now you're Barbarino?"

I'd really like to stay mad right now. How could my best friend in the entire world be so dense that she wouldn't realize how badly her words would hurt me? No girl wants to think that she hasn't completely devastated an ex-boyfriend. At least for longer than one day!

But using my Barbarino line on me? I have to admit, that's pretty funny.

"Yeah, well, up your nose with a rubber hose."

The laugh we share leads us to declare an unofficial truce. We chitchat for a few minutes before agreeing to meet for lunch to do some pre-game prep before my date with Charlie tomorrow night.