My mind replays the argument with Phil Kaplan, CEO of my biggest account. In his drunken rage, he threw a storyboard across the room… and had security escort me out of his office.

As the head of a major Hollywood studio, he’s untouchable.
And he knows it.

After fifteen years at EPN—Entertainment Placement Network—I should feel secure. Instead, I’m wondering whether I’ll still have a job on Monday.

Right now, all I can think is:

Thank God it’s Friday.

Traffic leaving the airport is brutal. Brake lights flare. Construction cones stretch endlessly ahead.

Then I see it.

A towering billboard above the highway:

Welcome to Philly, Osei Wharton. It’s an “Osay” Jawn.

Clever.

I study the city’s newest 76ers rookie smiling down at us. If he can’t play, the women of Philly won’t complain.

He’s gorgeous.

I have no idea how much that face is about to matter.

Monday morning arrives too quickly.

I brace myself and walk into my manager’s office prepared for damage control.

Instead, he’s smiling. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Sweet talk Phil into renewing for three more years. You’re my hero.”

My stomach drops.

The last time I saw Phil, he nearly hit me with a desk phone.

Later, roses wait on my desk.

Please forgive me.

— Phil

Beside them sits a five-thousand-dollar Saks gift card.

Guilt has its perks.

In this business, you’re only as good as your last sale.

A three-year contract buys me breathing room.

But something about this feels wrong.

And the next move on my calendar?

New York.

It’s Rainey.

I just dropped her off on the Upper West Side less than an hour ago.

“Damn, Rainey, do you miss me already?”

“I have some juicy gossip,” she says. “I know you haven’t heard it yet.”

“I’m sure I haven’t. So tell me.”

“I heard Bruce’s wife is asking for a divorce. He’s an emotional wreck because he never saw it coming.”

Rainey has never been diplomatic. She also knows exactly how long it took me to get over Bruce.

Bruce and I met in college. We lived together for years in New York, and when we broke up, he married someone else almost immediately.

“I’m sorry to hear it,” I say. “But traffic is horrible, and the Lincoln Tunnel needs my full attention.”

“Don’t give me that bull. Your car has hands-free calling.”

“Goodbye, Rainey. I love you.”

Just hearing his name sends a wave of heat through my body. I grip the steering wheel tighter. As much as I try to deny it, my heart still jolts at the mention of my first and only love.

By the time I make it home, I plan to spend the next few days doing absolutely nothing.

Then the doorbell rings.

I glance at the security monitor and see a tall young man standing at the front door. His baseball cap is pulled low, and he shifts nervously as he stares into the camera.

“Hello?” I say.

“Hello… I’m looking for Sienna Lewis.”

“Yes, I’m Sienna Lewis. How can I help you?”

Silence.

“How can I help you?” I ask again.

“I can come back if this isn’t a convenient time.”

“Convenient for what exactly? What’s this about?”

But instead of answering, he turns and walks away.

I watch him pause at the end of the walkway, glance back at the house, hesitate… then finally leave.

The encounter lingers with me long after he’s gone.

He knew my name.

And somehow, I know this wasn’t a random visit.