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    “Actually, I want to join. How do I go about doing that?”
    “You don’t, Sir. This group is for women only.” I turn back to the members and cross my legs, fold my hands, and set them on my lap.
    “Sir?” He walks through the doorway toward me. “Please don’t call me Sir. I can’t be much older than you. Should I refer to you as Ma’am?”
    I stiffen and my face flushes with anger. Ma’am is for spineless women wearing cardigans, their hair tossed into a bun as though they’ve given up completely on themselves. “Point taken. Seriously, though, we can’t help you. This is a women’s only group.”
    “Sorry, ladies.” He scans the room and finds his way back to me. “Is there some sort of bylaw that states this, or do you make the rules and can change them should someone happen to want to join, like a man?”
    Who the hell does this guy think he is? He comes in here trying to challenge me and make me look bad in front of my group. “Actually, I formed the group and I intended it to be for women.”
    “Because men don’t need groups like this?”
    “That’s not what I said.”
    “It’s what you implied.”
    Ugh. The group is focused on me, and waiting for a response. Am I a jerk for not letting him in? No, there aren’t any written bylaws or anything like that, but the online description for the group is clear: a support group for women over 35 unable to retain a long-term commitment and, thus, have been dating for decades.
    “Look,” I lean in so no one else hears me. “I run this group, and I don’t think that the women would be comfortable with a man listening to their, um, experiences with men.”
    “I’m a spectacular listener.”
    “Good for you. Go find a men’s group.”
    “This is the only one I found.”
    He isn’t budging. If we had security, I would be on the phone with them already.
    “Please leave.”
    “Keith.”
    “I didn’t ask your name.” I make eye contact with Monica and raise my eyebrows. She responds with a small smile. I can’t tell if she agrees with me or not.
    “Well, I’m telling you. And your name is?”
    My name is irrelevant.
    “Cassie!” Luna shouts. “Her name is Cassie.”
    I snap my head over at her and she lowers her eyes.  
    “I think you should take a vote,” Keith says.
    “You don’t have a say. Please leave before I’m forced call the police.”
    I’m not backing down from him. Men are not welcome in this group, whether he thinks they should be or not. I already dealt with one man moving in on my territory today and I’m not about to deal with another.
    “Fine. But, we’re not done here.” He reaches in his back pocket and hands me a card. “This is my business card. Give me a call if you change your mind.”
    He’s an electrician and appears to own his own company. “I won’t.”
    He shrugs and leaves.
    “Now, where were we?” I continue with the meeting, taking one last glance at Keith before the door shuts behind him.  
    Two men waving their manliness around within a week on my territory. This is my court, and I control the balls on it.

Chapter
    Six

    I’m so glad a new week is upon me. Last Thursday’s meeting didn’t go too well. Keith left me rattled, and I called the meeting to a close shortly after he left. A man has never tried to join, or even set foot in our meetings, in the three years I’ve been running the group. The letter from my mother certainly didn’t help either. Toss in Lucas, and I’m caught in a blender of emotion, each rotation cutting me deeper.
    Work is a welcome distraction as long as it’s me in my office. There are some days in life when speaking to people is the last thing you want to do and today is one of those. With all that’s going on, my mind is boggled and every single thing is irritating me. I want to shake this feeling, and when I finally am about to, Lucas knocks on my door. I don’t want to deal with him today. Or ever. I invite him in, pushing my annoyances deep to