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stumbled out of bed, the sheets balled up against her chest in a protective, silken wad. She tiptoed through the room and collected her things, then scurried into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
    She put her clothes on quickly, then made the mistake of looking in the mirror. “Oh…oh dear.” She was the epitome of the walk of shame. Bedraggled was the word. Her hair was sticking out at weird angles and her makeup had slid down her face, leaving tracks of black beneath her eyes.
    She turned on the sink and put her hands beneath the cold water, before splashing herself in the face. “Ah, darnit!”
    This was not a moisturizer commercial, and she was not a model. She did not feel refreshed. She felt soggy and half-drowned.
    She looked at herself again. Well, at least the makeup was gone. But she looked like she’d had a fight with a hose.
    She smoothed her now-damp hair and walked out of the bathroom, back into the empty bedroom. She wondered where Caleb was. And why he hadn’t fallen asleep.
    She tiptoed down the hall and to the kitchen, and that was where she saw him, sitting in a chair at the table, upright, asleep.
    He obviously hadn’t wanted to sleep with her. Shame prickled her scalp. Obviously she’d violated the rules of the one-night stand. But she didn’t know the rules of the one-night stand because she’d never had one before. Because she was woeful and pathetic and not at all sophisticated.
    And she felt even less sophisticated, and a bit more woeful, now that she’d had one. Because she just felt…strange. A little bit hollow, a little hungover and a lot embarrassed.
    She walked through the room, past Caleb, and out into the living area, where she retrieved her panties and stuffed them in her purse before slipping out the front door and into the cool morning air.
    She pulled her phone out of her bag and started searching for a car service. She was not calling anyone she knew. No one ever had to know about this, ever.
    It was clear to her that Caleb already wished he could forget it, and she was starting to feel the same way.
    But even while she felt slightly hot and shamefaced, calling a car out to an address she had to do some investigation to find, standing there in last night’s dress, just advertising what she’d been doing, she knew she wouldn’t forget all of it.
    She would never forget the way he’d made her feel. Would never forget that for one night, she’d had the kind of sex she’d never even imagined was real. That she’d had the kind of sex she didn’t think a woman like her could have.
    Her ex could suck it. Or rather not, because she didn’t want him anywhere near her. Not after a transcendent experience like Caleb.
    She would focus on that. Not the morning after. Morning afters were supposed to suck, but if the night before was awesome enough, who cared?
    Yes, Monday she had to go back to business as usual. No one would ever know about this. But she would know. She would know, and she was determined to hold onto only the good stuff.
    And the good stuff was legendary. His hands between her thighs, his fist wrapped around her hair…oh yes, there was a lot of good to take away.
    So she would leave the bad stuff, the regret, the embarrassment, here. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. She was moving on, a new, properly ravished person.
    The car she’d ordered finally wound up the drive and to the front of the house. She looked back and saw that the windows were still dark, no sign of Caleb rousing evident.
    “Goodbye, Caleb Anderson,” she whispered before she got into the car, “thanks for the good times. And thanks for proving my app a success.”
    * * *
    “Evie, you better get out here.”
    “What?” Evie looked up from the instant noodles she was eating at her desk, and at Raj, one of her interns.
    “There’s someone here who says that he’s from Flirt. Or higher up, actually. And that he’s here to start…overseeing the app