Inside my room, I leaned against the closed door, heart pounding. The audacity of that man. First he kissed me like I was oxygen and he was drowning, then he remembered his real girlfriend and apologized for the "mistake," and now he wanted to set me up with his friend?
I pulled out my phone, fingers flying across the screen as I searched for "Derek" in Caleb's social media connections. It didn't take long to find him—Derek Marshall, Harvard Business School, Vice President at Goldman Sachs. He had the blandly handsome look of someone born into money.
Before I could think better of it, I sent him a message:
Hi Derek, this is June—Caleb's wife. He mentioned you'll be in town next week and suggested we should meet. Coffee when you're back?
I hit send, a perverse satisfaction flowing throu
