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shoulders. Jason Andrews had hardly made much of an impression on her thus far.
    “Please—I’m sure in real life the man can barely hold an intelligent conversation.”
    Linda considered this. “Well then, I guess you better find a way to keep him from doing a lot of talking.” She threw Taylor a wicked grin. “How big is your shower?”
    The secretaries burst into tittering giggles.
    Taylor found herself oddly flustered by Linda’s words. It had to be the temperature in the office, she thought with annoyance, which had suddenly become ridiculously hot again. All that money, and the firm couldn’t even afford damn decent air-conditioning.
    Realizing she had been fanning herself—and that everyone was watching—Taylor stopped and pretended to be waving off the group’s giggles.
    “Don’t you people have any work to do?”
    The secretaries exchanged amused looks at her tone. With a dismissive flick of her hand—figuring she’d wasted more than enough time on nonsense that morning—Taylor abruptly turned back toward her office.
    And stumbled most ungracefully over a file box sitting in the hallway.
    After an ungainly balancing act, Taylor managed to right herself. She looked down in annoyance. Stupid stinking box. She kicked it with her heel.
    Behind her, the secretaries giggled even louder.
    Taylor straightened her suit and pulled herself together, then hurried off to the sanctity of her office. On her way, she gestured to the object of everyone’s fascination.
    “And why do we have a television in here, anyway?” she demanded in an attempt to at least get the last word in. “This is a law office!”
    Linda shrugged this off nonchalantly.
    “This is L.A.”

Three
    TAYLOR CHECKED THE clock on her desk for what had to be the tenth time that morning. 11:07. She tapped her pen impatiently.
    He was late.
    She should have been in court that very moment, arguing her motions to compel. As it turned out, Derek had nothing to worry about—if they lost on one single issue, she would hold Jason Andrews entirely responsible.
    She glanced up hopefully when Linda stopped in the doorway.
    “Any word?”
    Linda sadly shook her head. A deep depression had begun to creep over the office at the actor’s failure to appear thus far. “None.”
    They went through this routine for the rest of the morning, and then the afternoon, too. Assuming Jason Andrews would eventually show up at some point, and having cleared her schedule for the entire day, Taylor found it difficult to concentrate on any meaningful task. So when six o’clock rolled around, she began the futile task of filling in her daily time sheet with a whole lot of nothing.
    Great, she thought—say hello to another Saturday in the office.
    But then she was interrupted by a frantic knock at her office door. She looked up to see Linda, flushed with excitement and out of breath, as if she had run to Taylor’s office the moment she had received whatever news she was about to convey.
    “His assistant just called. She said there was a mix-up, but that Mr. Andrews will be here first thing tomorrow morning.”
    “Tomorrow?” Taylor repeated. Then she frowned. “Perfect,” she muttered in annoyance. Say hello to Sunday in the office, too.
    “Did his assistant at least apologize?” she asked.
    Linda put a finger to her chin and paused, as if trying to remember. “Hmmm . . . now that would be a ‘no.’ ”
    Taylor rolled her eyes. Now there’s a fucking surprise.

    BUT BY THE next day, Taylor could definitively say that she had gotten over the issue of Jason Andrews’s lateness.
    Because being late was no longer the problem.
    The jerk had completely blown her off. No phone calls, no apologies, and no explanations.
    So by late Friday afternoon, after a second day spent mumbling obscenities, pacing through the hallways, and generally huffing about, Taylor decided she was not going to waste one more minute of her life on Jason Andrews.
    She shoved a stack of files