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think you understand what you are saying no to.  He is literally the hottest man in Chicago.  Literally.  That is not an exaggeration.  You absolutely cannot say no to the hottest man in Chicago.  Do you know how many women would die to be in your position?”
    I shrugged, giving what I hoped was a sympathetic smile.
    “I’m just not that into dating at all right now,” I said. “You remember last weekend?”
    “Oh what?  That idiot my sister knows?  You can’t compare.  Not at all,” she said, and then she grasped both my hands in hers. “Grace, do it for me.  Please, I promise that I will never talk about gymnastics again if you just please go on this date.”
    The sincerity in her voice made me giggle, and the promise of no more gymnastics talk was tempting, as little as I believed it.
    “Fine,” I said.
    “Yay!  Can I listen?” she asked.
    “Absolutely not,” I said, picking up the phone.
    “Fair enough,” she said, backing up, but still with the massive smile spread across her face.
    “Grayson?” I said. “So sorry I kept you waiting.”
    “No worries. So how about Saturday?” he asked.
    “I”—I caught a glimpse of Megan in my peripheral vision—“I would love to.”
    Her hands shot up in the air in victory, and I could see her spinning.
    “That’s great!” he said.  Was that relief in his voice?  Was he seriously worried I would say no?  If what Megan said was true, he could have taken any woman in the city. “I’ll send a car for you.  Should we meet around seven o’clock?”
    I agreed, said goodbye, and laid the handset in the cradle gingerly, exhaling for the first time in what felt like ten minutes.  I purposely didn’t look to my right, because I thought for sure Megan would be staring at me with the biggest “I told you so” look I’d ever seen.
    She was, however, on the phone with Amanda.  Her yells of excitement came through the phone clearly and actually did make those around us turn and stare.
    “That’s right!” Megan said, her voice the same hushed hiss she had used before.  Though in her excitement it didn’t have the effect she was intending, and many were looking at her curiously now.  I reached over and took the phone from her with no protests.
    “Amanda?” I asked.
    “Oh my god,” Amanda said.
    “It’s not that big of a deal.  But you can’t say anything,” I said.
    “Oh my god,” she said again.
    “Stop it.”
    “I will not!  This is incredible!  Do you even know how hot he is?” she asked.
    “Well, yes. I mean, I interviewed him so—” I started, but I don’t think Amanda heard me.
    “Okay, well I’ll find you something to wear. Don’t worry about a thing. Simona will love this. Great exposure.  I’m sure you’ll be photographed. Do you want us to come over that day?  We will.  I’ll talk to Megan about it.  So exciting. Ask if he has friends.  He must have friends!”  Amanda rambled on and on, and eventually I just handed the phone back to Megan, who listened for a few more minutes, interjecting her own thoughts sporadically, before hanging up.
    “Just keep it quiet,” I said when her gaze found me again.
    She mimed zipping her lips, but Amanda’s mention of the paparazzi made me worried that Megan might not be the one I had to worry about.

Chapter 7
    T he remainder of the week flew by in a haze.  I was extremely productive to the point of overworking, and Bernie seemed pleased with my submissions.  She asked me to lunch on Friday, and I was grateful for the opportunity to escape Megan’s ever watchful eye. I had asked her after my phone call with Grayson if she was sure she was okay with me going.  She had, after all, been the one who’d had a crush on him.
    “Please,” she had said, waving a hand.  “This isn’t some cute guy from the bar.  This is Grayson Hunter .”  I had heard his name so much that it was starting to lose any meaning, like when you repeated words over and over in your head