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foot , ten inch girlfriend dominate her?”
    Troian settled ba ck in her chair, looking smug. “You’d be surprised what a Napoleon Complex translates into in bed.”
    I nea rly snorted coffee up my nose. “Speaking of which,” I said, regaining my composure, “your girlfriend just showed up.”
    “Very funny.” Troian wrinkled her nose, but didn’t bother to turn in her chair to look toward the door. Instead, she picked at my blueberry muffin even though I had every intention of eating it myself. “What kind of mutant just walked in?”
    “I’m telling Nik you called her a mutant.”
    “Hey, guys,” Nikole announced cheerfully as she walked up to our grouping of chairs. She must have been on her way to work; her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her company’s logo peeked out from the opening of her jacket. “Fancy running into you two here.”
    Troian jerked her hand away from my breakfast muffin. She flashed a warning look at me. I grinned even wider. “Jackweed,” she muttered under her breath for my ears only. “Hey, babe,” she said louder, flipping her most genuine smile on. “I didn’t expect to see you until later today.”
    Nikole’s head bobbed. “My client this morning had to reschedule, so I had some free time. I figured you guys would still be here pretending to work.”
    “We work!” I protested valiantly. I kept out the part about how she’d just interrupted a game of Top, Bottom, or Switch.
    “I’ ll be right back.” Nikole jerked her thumb in the direction of the coffee bar. “I need to get my morning fix. You two good on coffee?”
    Troian nodded. “I’ m good, but get more for Elle. She’s being a pussy about caffeine today.”
    “I’m already on my secon d mocha!” I protested.
    Nikole made a clucking noise. “Then I guess you need more.”
    I had the strangest friends. Instead of encouraging me to drink more beer and make bad life-decisions, they were the breakfast mafia, pushing double caramel macchiatos and lemon poppy-seed muffins on me.
    “So it’s my turn,” I announced as Nikole strolled away to get me a caffeine drip.
    “Oh, right.” Troian’s face became serious. “Ginger with the baby stroller.”
    I spotted the woman with little trouble. The stroller was too large for the limited space of Del Sol, but she appeared determined to get her hot chai. I watched Nikole motion for her to go ahead of her in line, and the woman looked relieved.
    “What about her?” I asked.
    “What’s her life story?”
    “The usual: stay-at-home mom, gave up her career for the promise of emotional fulfillment through children while her husband is out making the money. Now she only leaves the house for coffee or the charade of her book club which is just an excuse to talk to other adults and drink wine.”
    “Wow. What’s eating you?” Troian eyeballed me warily. “Trouble in paradise?”
    “No,” I insisted. “Everything’s fine.”
    “So you’re not projecting yourself onto that chick?”
    “Not at all – everything’s perfect.”
    “Things with Hunter still good?”

“Yep.” I’d be lying if I wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop, however. In my experience, good things didn’t last long, especially when it came to my relationships. Happiness had an expiration date.
    I dipped the tip of my finger into the design on my mocha and swirled it around, destroying the barista’s handiwork. “And, I should be hearing back from publishers soon about my next book proposal.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “Yeah. Since I’ve already got tenure I don’t have to worry about publishing with some stuffy academic press and can go with a trade press instead.”
    “That’s great.” Troian sat up a little straighter in her chair and seemed to be straining her neck to see something better.
    “If I can get a trade press to agree to publishing in hardcover and paperback simultaneously, I might actually make money on this book.”
    Troian hummed, but was