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mastered the whole not-crying-when-he-yells thing.
    “Tell Jerome Ms. Burke will be parking in 1702 from now on.”
    “Yes, sir,” Lucy squeaks before skittering out of my office.
    I’m taken aback. That’s the spot right next to Jack’s, and it’s reserved for the current Mrs. Valentine. Not that she visits often, but when she does, god forbid she should have to walk more than a couple yards to the front door.
    “And what is Candi going to say about that?”
    “Probably much the same as she said last night when I told her I wanted a divorce. It sounded an awful lot like ‘Go to hell, you spineless motherfucking bastard.’”
    Shit.
    “I’m sorry, Jack.” I don’t want to talk about this, but I should observe the bare minimum of social niceties, right?
    “We were never a good match. More?” Jack’s already pouring another measure into his glass.
    “No, thanks.”
    I’m still sipping at the first ration, and I’m only having the one. I have a few things to take care of before I leave for the day—for the weekend!
    “You know any nice girls you could set me up with? Or nice women? Either one, I’m not picky. So long as she has two thoughts in her head to keep each other warm at night,” he muses, sounding maudlin.
    Must get Jack out of my office before this turns into a sob-fest.
    “I don’t know anyone nice. I spend too much time with you.”
    “You were a bitch when you got here, Burke. Don’t try to blame me.”
    “That’s one of the reasons you like me so much. I’m the only kind of girl who can put up with you.”
    “Too bad you’re way more valuable to me sitting behind that desk than bent over it.”
    Whoa. What the fuck? Jack frequently says inappropriate things to me, and I don’t care. I can give as good as I get—witness Towelgate—but this has a different flavor. I’ve never thought Jack had any lascivious interest in me and I sure as hell don’t have any in him, but what he said and the way he said it… It gives me the creeps.
    “And don’t you forget it.” Though my face stays light and teasing, there’s an edge to my tone that he catches, coloring.
    “Never. You’ll have everything on my desk before you go?”
    “Consider it done.”
    I push my chair away from my desk to put my feet back on the floor. Jack takes this as the cue to leave it is, raising his glass to me on the way out. “Excellent. See you Monday.”
    *
    It’s ten thirty when I deposit documents for three projects on Jack’s long-abandoned desk. There are already digital copies in his inbox. I’ve set up my out-of-office message on my voicemail and email and left my Blackberry on my desk in plain view. When I take time off, I take it off .
    I turn up my music loud on my way home and sing at the top of my lungs. I need to pack, but it shouldn’t be difficult. Mr. Ardmore hasn’t specified wardrobe or grooming requirements. Thank god, too, because I didn’t have time to go shopping or get a wax. I hum my way up to my apartment and take up my phone and a glass of wine as soon as I’m inside. Rey picks up after the first ring. He’s been waiting for me.
    “Please tell me you’re done for the day.”
    “Yes, I just set foot in the door.”
    “Packing?”
    “Starting now.” I drag my weekend bag out from my closet and start to select clothes for the trip on the off-chance I’ll need them.
    “Are you excited?”
    “Yeah. More than usual. There’s something about this guy. I can’t get him out of my head.”
    “I think you’re going to like this one.” Rey’s tone is a sing-song tease, sounding like my BFF helping me get ready for a big first date. Which I suppose he is.
    “I hope so.”
    We chat while I get my things together. As we’re signing off, Rey sneaks in a final reminder. “Remember, when you get there, you’re not his sub yet. He wants to talk to you . So give the man what he wants for an hour, and then you can play.”
    “All right, all right.” I roll my eyes, although