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back in shape after having had a child only four months ago. “How’s the baby?”
    “Little Jack is the joy of my life.” She smiles at me, and I can see the love in her eyes when she mentions him. “But I’m as tired as hell. You know I’ve decided to raise him without a nanny. If he doesn’t starting sleeping better, I may have to hire one for the night shift. This getting up at three and four a.m. is killing me.”
    “If it’s any consolation you don’t look sleep deprived at all. I don’t see a hint of bags or dark circles. You must be doing something right.”
    “I sure as hell hope so. I’ve decided raising a child is harder than working with the worst sons of bitches on Wall Street.”
    “But the jerks on Wall Street didn’t smile up at you like you hung the moon and the stars.” Trudy laughs and I join in, although a small part of me envies her. She has a perfect life—a charming husband and beautiful child—and here I stand, a widow at thirty-four.
    “You’re so right. I love when I walk into the nursery and scoop him up out of his crib. You’d think I hung the moon.”
    “Now that the weather is warmer, I’d love to meet you and Jack in Central Park for a walk. It’s been a couple of months since I’ve seen him. I’m sure he’s changed.”
    “Sounds like a plan. And you should be out in the park daily. Lots of hot man meat lurking on those jogging trails,” she says while pointing at me in a scolding fashion.
    “You’re relentless.” I lightly pat her arm, although I’d like to p inch her for being so pushy about hooking me up at every turn.
    “I don’t mean to push.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Wait that's not true, I have been pushing you. I think you need a little shove to get into the dating scene here. New York City dating isn’t for the faint of heart.”
    “I know you mean well. But between you and my mother, I’ve had my fill of ‘let’s help lonely Kathryn find a man.’ ” I add an exaggerated eye roll to drive home my point.
    “Good old Ava. I bet she’s been worse than me. Is there someone in particular she’s trying to fix you up with?”
    “She was telling me about a man who's supposed to be here tonight. Only problem is even my makeup artist thinks he’s trouble.”
    “What’s his name?" From her tone, I’m certain she’d be rubbing her hands together if she wasn’t holding her nearly empty wineglass.
    “Adam Kingsley,” I answer and see a similar reaction from Trudy as I did with my over-sharing makeup artist. “I’ve seen that expression in response to his name before.”
    “You can’t be serious. Your mother wants to fix you up with him?” Trudy glances around her, and I’m wondering if she needs to sit down. “He’s the last person I’d ever think of fixing you up with.”
    “That bad?” She nods almost violently. “You’ve got to point him out to me. I need to be prepared.”
    “He gave a very generous donation at this dinner last year. Maybe his humanitarian side has blinded your mother, because the only thing I’d fix him up with would be his own hand.”
    “Holy shit, Trudy.” I’m shocked at that statement and also the fact that somehow my mother was pushing this man my direction. “Do you see him here yet?”
    “Not yet.” Her words were like a sigh. “But you’ll know when he’s here. He’ll be the most handsome man in the room. Hell, he’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen. But don’t let his looks fool you. I’d say the majority of the women in this room have succumbed to him at one time or another.”
    “No way.” I give her a questioning stare, hoping she can read my look accurately.
    “Good God! No, I haven't been one of his victims. I could give you a long list of his casualties in this room, though. It’s really quite impressive.”
    “I’m glad you aren’t one. But what is it they see in him if he’s really so bad?”
    “Just wait.” Her assessment is scathing, but oddly I’m even