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good, Catt.” He moved in a little closer and lowered his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t make you better.”
    Catt backed up. Having him so close made her inexplicably nervous. “You’re very arrogant. Has anyone ever told you that?”
    â€œAll the time,” he admitted. “But eventually they come around.” He began toying with some of the other fragrances that Catt had been working on.
    â€œThose aren’t ready to be scrutinized yet,” she told him. “They’re still in the developing stage.”
    â€œKind of like the two of us,” he mused. Jamal inhaled one of her samples. “This fragrance is a lot like you . . . bold, sassy . . . complicated.”
    â€œDoes this mean you like it?”
    He returned the sample to its socket. His eyes washed over her body. “Let’s just say that the data is inconclusive,” said Jamal and walked out of the door, still as much an enigma to Catt as ever.

Chapter 5
    At the end of her long work day, Catt sought the comfort at the bottom of a quart of triple-fudge brownie ice cream and a rerun of Oprah . As Oprah’s expert de jour was expounding on the dangers of emotional eating, the doorbell rang.
    â€œWhen did you get back?” asked Catt when she found her best friend and hairstylist, Toria Turner, on her door step.
    â€œAre you going to let me in or not? It’s hot out here!” she exclaimed, lifting her thick mass of braids to get some air underneath.
    Catt crossed her arms and frowned. “I don’t know. You look a little empty-handed.”
    â€œDon’t worry.” Toria pushed her way into Catt’s living room. “Mama sent you her sweet potato pie just like she promised. It’s at home.” Toria slouched into the sofa, making herself comfortable as usual. “So what have I been missing around here?”
    â€œA lot.” Catt sat down beside her. “And take your feet off my coffee table.”
    Toria smacked her teeth and begrudgingly complied. “Can’t too much happen in a week,” she deadpanned in her deep, Southern drawl.
    â€œMaybe not in your world but in mine, a week can hold a lifetime of drama.”
    Toria exhaled. “All right, who or what has Oni done—or not done—now?”
    â€œThis doesn’t have anything to do with her directly. It’s about this new R&D they burdened me with.”
    Toria absently twisted her braids into a thick rope. “What’s the problem?”
    â€œThe problem is that he’s arrogant and—”
    Toria stopped. “Oh, it’s a he? ” she asked, intrigued.
    â€œThere are a few other things I can call him if you’d like! I can’t stand the way he flaunts about all self-righteous with his fancy suits and smooth tongue and worms his way into everyone’s good graces, especially Oni’s. I don’t know why I’m the only who sees through this guy.”
    Toria picked up a copy of Essence lying on Catt’s coffee table. “Is he incompetent?”
    â€œNo, not really,” admitted Catt. “I mean, I’ve seen better, but he knows his stuff.”
    â€œHas he been giving you a hard time?”
    â€œNot in any obvious way but . . . I can’t describe it, Tori. It’s all very covert and indirect.”
    Toria looked up from the magazine. “Okay, so, what exactly is it about him that you don’t like?”
    Catt was stuck. “I don’t know. There’s no one glaring thing. It’s lots of little things.”
    Toria snickered. “It sounds to me like you might have a thing for him.”
    Catt was aghast. “ What? I just told you that I can’t stand him. How could you possibly think that based on what I just said?”
    Toria directed her hands toward Catt. “Look at you—you’re all worked up over this guy. The only time you get like that is when you really like