Max hadn’t pressed her to make any grand commitment to him before he’d left her place late Saturday night, and they’d texted more or less the same amount this week as they had in the previous weeks. But something had changed between them after the confidences they’d exchanged that night.

Why had she told him about her arrest? Their whole conversation had been about him, not her; it wasn’t like she would have been lying to him if she hadn’t told him anything. She’d woken up that night at four a.m. and spent an hour mad at herself for that. But when she woke up the next morning, she had a text from Max waiting there on her phone, and somehow she wasn’t angry anymore.

No, now the problem was that she was mostly scared. She’d meant for this to be a casual, easy, low-key thing to keep her busy while her firm was slow, but the amount of space Max took up in her head was neither casual nor low-key. And she had no idea what to do about it.

She knew one thing: if they slept together, it would absolutely not be casual. Which sucked—she just wanted to have some really fucking great sex with that really fucking hot guy who kept touching her like that and kissing her like that and, oh God, looking at her like that. But that was the problem—there would be nothing casual about the sex with anyone who looked at her like that.

Oh no. How did she look at him?

She needed to stop thinking about him. She was acting like some sort of lovesick puppy.

“Sooo, tonight was interesting,” she said to Jamila when they got in the car. “I’m glad we had all of the manpower, but . . .”

Jamila looked at her sideways.

“But how did those frat guys hear about us? I have no idea! One of them called me yesterday and asked if they could bring a group of ten, which I didn’t think was actually going to happen but I said sure, and then they brought a group of twenty. Must have been some sort of community service requirement from school.”

Olivia tossed her bag on the floor.

“Yeah, when I walked in, I thought maybe I was in the wrong place! But hey, I’ll take it.” That reminded her. “Do we ever get high school groups out to help? I used to do a lot of volunteering with teens—now that my work schedule isn’t as packed, I need to find a way to do that again.”

She’d thrown herself into that kind of work in her early years in New York, but then her job had taken over most of her life. Maybe now she’d have more time to do it again.

“Not as often as I’d like,” Jamila said. “I need to work on that; I’ve been wanting to find a way to get teens in the community more involved. Sometimes they do the delivering with their parents, but that’s not enough.” She laughed. “Speaking of that, our new friends from tonight are going to do a bunch of delivering for us tomorrow and next week!”

Olivia turned up the music.

“Wow, they all have cars?”

Jamila laughed at her.

“This is Los Angeles, Olivia—a lot of people here have cars.”

“I know, I need to get one. But it’s a big decision! And I’ve never actually bought a car before, so I’m intimidated by the whole going-to-a-dealership-for-it part.”

Jamila turned to her with a wide smile on her face.

“What are you doing tomorrow at lunchtime?”

Olivia desperately wished she had a client meeting, or a conference call, or something.

“Nothing specific, but I have work to do.” She didn’t want to ask, but she had to. “Why?”

Jamila flashed a huge smile at her.

“Because I’m going to pick you up from work, and I’m going to take you to buy a car, that’s why.”

Olivia argued with her, but somehow the next day at 12:15, she got into Jamila’s car.

“Seriously, if you have better things to do on this beautiful Los Angeles day, you don’t have to spend the afternoon helping me buy a car,” Olivia said.

Jamila waved her words aside.

“Thanks for making me feel like a loser since I actually don’t have anything better to do on this beautiful Los Angeles afternoon.” She made a face at Olivia, and they both laughed. “Okay, what kind of car are we buying today?”

As soon as they walked into the dealership, a tall, thin salesman with a big smile on his face greeted them.

“Can I help you two today?” He looked back and forth between Olivia and Jamila. “Let me guess . . . sisters?”

Olivia looked at Jamila and grinned. Sure, why not.

Jamila nodded and smiled at the salesman.

“Hi . . . Brad,” Jamila said. Oh right, he was wearing a name tag. “My sister and I here would love to test-drive a few cars, if you have them on the lot?”

Two hours later, after four test drives—one car twice—some negotiation, and a whole lot of signing of papers, Brad handed Olivia a key.

“Congratulations on your new car, Ms. Monroe,” he said.

Olivia and Jamila grinned at each other as they walked out of the dealership.

“I’m taking you to happy hour for that,” Olivia said. “Isn’t there a good Mexican place nearby?”

Olivia pulled into a parking space by the restaurant after circling the block only four or five times. She made it to a table before Jamila did, so she pulled her phone out of her bag. She had to tell Max about her car. They’d texted a few times already today, but she hadn’t told him she was going to actually buy a car. Partly because she hadn’t really believed it herself.