Out in the Open: A Workplace Romance

Prologue

New York

Iwheel in my suitcase, and I’m about to set it down in the hallway when I notice them—a pair of leopard-print kitten heels. I saw them on display in a store window recently and knew I had to have them, but they didn’t come in my size. Silently I take off my own shoes and creep across the wooden floors, terrified that the pounding in my chest will give me away. I grip the handle of my bedroom door and pause, knowing I don’t want to witness what I’m about to see, but my body ignores my screaming protests. I throw open the door and find Ben, my fiancé, in our bed with one of my coworkers, Claire. He looks at me, wide-eyed, while she attempts to appear demure.

Lexi, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.

Clearly. I came home early to surprise you, but I guess the surprise is on me. I hastily make my way from the room. I’m numb with shock, but my adrenaline is on overdrive, helping me put one foot in front of the other. I can’t believe this is happening. The reality of his betrayal sinks in and the pain envelops me like a dense, dark fog. It’s hard to think clearly, but I know I need to get the hell out of here.

Let me explain, Ben pleads, following me as he attempts to put some clothes on.

Oh, I don’t think there’s anything to explain. It’s pretty clear what’s been going on.

He places a hand on my arm. Wait—let’s talk about this.

Don’t touch me, I say, with such contempt that my voice is almost unrecognizable. I don’t want to see you—not now, not ever. It’s over.

He runs a hand through his hair and looks at me miserably. Please…wait, he says softly.

I look into his familiar hazel eyes, and I’m tempted, but I can’t. I don’t want to hear any explanation. All I know is that the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with broke my trust—and my heart. I look at him one last time then walk out of the apartment. It’s weird how one defining moment can alter the course of your life so drastically. Just a few minutes ago, my life was perfect, and now I have no idea what my future holds or where to go from here. Once I’m outside I let the sobs escape and call my friend Jamie. Thank God she answers.

When she hears my voice, she says, Lexi, what’s wrong?

It’s a long story. Can I come stay with you for a bit?

Of course. You can stay as long as you need.

I hail a cab and slam the door just as Ben runs down the front steps. He approaches my window, and I turn away as he presses his forehand against the glass, willing me to look at him.

Ma’am? the cabdriver says.

You can go, I tell him as I meet Ben’s gaze. Through my haze of tears, I see him mouth, I’m sorry as we pull away. I look back and watch his retreating figure until he fades from sight, and I wonder when we started to move in such different directions.

When I arrive at Jamie’s, she’s waiting in the lobby. Lexi, what happened? It’s hard to get the words out, but I manage to tell her the gist. I can’t believe it. Ben, of all people!

I can’t believe it either. Everyone thought we were the perfect couple.

Ben and I met at a party my junior year of college at the University of Michigan. It was a Casino Royale-themed social mixer with his fraternity and my sorority. As an icebreaker, everyone received a playing card, and we had to mingle and find our match. I had the queen of hearts. I looked around the room and locked eyes with Ben. I remember thinking he was so good-looking, with his shaggy dark hair and hazel eyes. He came right up to me and asked me what card I had. I showed him and asked if we were a match.

Yes, he replied. I believe we are.

You didn’t show me your card, I pointed out.

He held it up and revealed the king of hearts. It’s close enough. Besides, you’re destined to be my queen.

I laughed at his cheesy line, but thought he was cute, so I went along with it. I don’t think that’s playing by the rules, I teased.

Well, I’m in charge of this party, and I’m willing to bend the rules.

Oh, you’re in charge? I thought the social chair planned all the parties.

You’re looking at him.

I thought Mark Bentley was the social chair.

He was…last semester. Are you done with your interrogation?

Yes, I believe I am.

Let me guess…You plan to go to law school.

Nope, guess again.

I like a challenge. Ben took my hand and led me to a table across the room. Do you know how to play poker?

Yes, and I’m actually quite good.

Let’s play a hand and make a bet. If you win, you can find your real partner, but if I win, you have to go on a date with me.

OK, deal. Inevitably I lost, though not intentionally because I always play to win. We were together ever since.

After graduation we moved to my hometown of Chicago. We spent a few years there, but then Ben was accepted to the Mount Sinai Medical Center residency program. It was a once-in-a lifetime opportunity, so I agreed to go to New York with him. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I was uprooting my life and leaving a job I loved, not to mention all my friends and family. But I saw a future with Ben and didn’t want to attempt a long-distance relationship.

The day before we moved to New York, he proposed. Even though I knew he was committed, it made me feel that much more confident about my decision. We had been packing, and Ben suggested we take a break and go out for dinner.

I’m in a zone, I said. Can’t we just finish up then eat?

I’m starving. Come on. We can finish later.

He took me to my favorite neighborhood restaurant. I remember being annoyed because he was texting constantly throughout the meal and seemed distracted. When we got home, he fumbled around in his pockets and said, Shoot, I forgot my keys.

I have mine. I rummaged through my purse then unlocked the door. I went to hit the light switch, but to my surprise, the room was bathed in a warm glow of candlelight. Scattered rose petals lined the foyer, creating a path to a beautiful vase filled with a dozen red roses, each with a slip of paper attached. A card with my name on it was propped up on the table. I turned around to look at Ben, but he was gone. With shaking hands, I opened the envelope and pulled out the card, which read, Twelve Reasons I Love Lexi Winters. I lifted the rose labeled Number one and read the slip of paper.

Number one: the way your smile lights up a room

I smiled in spite of myself and took out each rose in order.

Number two:  your compassionate nature

Number three:  the fact that you listen to cassette tapes when you work out

Number four:  the way you leave water bottles in each room so you’ll never be thirsty

Number five:  your drive and determination

Number six:  how you always manage to see the silver lining

Number seven:  your obsession with the Wolverines

Number eight:  how you leave me love notes when you pack my lunch

Number nine:  your willingness to watch hockey with me so we can spend time together

Number ten:  your addiction to Smart Pop and chocolate-covered pretzels

Number eleven:  the way you believe in me

I realized there were only eleven roses in the vase. I turned around, and Ben was kneeling behind me, holding the last one. I looked into his shining eyes as he recited, Number twelve: I love everything about you, but most of all, I love how you bring out the best in me. I knew there was something special about you from the moment I laid eyes on you at the mixer. Once I saw your card, I tossed the other queen of hearts from the deck because I knew then that I didn’t want to share you. And I still don’t. Lexi Paige Winters, will you do me the honor of marrying me?

I stared into his earnest face and said, Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you. He lifted me and spun me around the half-empty room, his lips covering mine in a passionate embrace.

Let’s celebrate! he said, going to the fridge then popping open a bottle of champagne that I didn’t remember seeing earlier.

We’d packed all our glasses, so he handed me the bottle. I took a swig and savored the feeling as the sweet, bubbly taste warmed my insides. Then I handed it to him.

I’ve got to call my family, I told him.

Tomorrow. Let’s savor this moment. Right now it’s just about the two of us.

OK, I agreed.

We finished almost the whole bottle, not a wise idea when we still had packing left to do. I started to gather up more things, but Ben lifted me into his arms. It can wait until the morning. Besides, I have something better in mind, he said, leading me to the bedroom.

Between my excitement and the champagne, I couldn’t sleep that night. I wandered into the living room, which was devoid of furniture. We’d sold most of it on Craigslist and donated the rest. I smiled when I saw the vase of roses on the counter. Because I hate clutter, I’m not usually one for keeping things, but I definitely wanted a memento from the evening. I found an empty box and scooped the flower petals into it. I wanted to dry out the roses, but there wasn’t time before we left, so I carefully placed each one among the petals and labeled the box Engagement. I added it to the pile of boxes and surveyed the room. The apartment seemed so empty without all our belongings, but my future felt full of promise.

So what are you going to do? Jamie asks, breaking my reverie.

I don’t know. I’ll probably move back home.

But what about The Studio? You can’t leave your dream job.

The Studio is one of New York’s premier advertising agencies. I work on the Aura account, a premium beauty manufacturer that prides itself on its eco-friendly image. I love what I do, and I’m in line for a promotion, but work is the furthest thing from my mind right now.

"I can’t even think about going back there and facing everyone. They probably know by now considering Claire is the office gossip. Of course he had to choose her."

Who is she? I’ve never heard you talk about her.

She’s the one who looks just like Megan Fox. God, I feel like such a cliché. Girl gets cheated on by fiancé with the younger, hotter coworker.

Lexi, stop it. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. Then she hugs me and says, Don’t worry. Things will turn out fine.

I manage a smile, even though I know things never will be fine again.

The next day I come back to our apartment when I know Ben will be at work. I pack up all my stuff and place my set of keys on the counter. I debate about leaving a note, but what would I say? I take a final look around and realize I forgot to do one thing. Slowly I take off my engagement ring and leave it on his pillow, where I know he’ll find it. It’s the first time since our engagement I’ve taken it off. I loved that ring, not because it was beautiful but because of what it represented: a promise and a commitment. I stare at my bare hand and feel like something is missing; I wish it were just the jewelry. My friends will say I should have kept the ring, but I don’t want any part of him as a reminder. The scars on my heart are enough. I close the door without looking back, vowing never to let any man get the best of me again.

Chapter 1

Chicago

It’s been one month since I moved back to Chicago. I’m living with my best friend from high school, Liv. Luckily, Liv has a two-bedroom condo and was willing to rent me the extra room until I find my own place. I wasn’t sure if I’d like the neighborhood. Her condo is on the Gold Coast, and I used to live in Lincoln Park, which has much more of a neighborhood feel. Turns out, though, that I like being close to downtown, and hopefully when I get a job, I’ll be able to walk to work. I’ve interviewed with two agencies so far and have my third one today with Hartman & Taylor. From what I’ve read, it’s the hot agency right now, so I applied. I also like that it’s a family-run business. Two cousins, Bill Hartman and Stephen Taylor, started it. Bill is the president/CEO and Stephen is the CFO, though from what I understand, he’s semiretired and more of a figurehead. Bill really runs the show. The position is an account director for a prestige European beauty brand that’s looking to expand distribution into the States through department stores and specialty beauty outlets. I’ve worked on high-end cosmetics brands in the past, so this is right in line with my experience and interests. I considered applying to L&C, where I worked before I moved to New York, but I want to make a fresh start. And frankly people know I left to be with Ben, and I don’t want them asking details about why I’m back.

Good luck, Liv yells as I walk out the door. You look great, she adds.

I’m wearing a charcoal-gray shift dress with a skinny belt, black patterned tights, and ankle boots. I accessorized with a mixed-chain layered necklace, simple drop earrings, and my silver Tiffany heart bracelet. It’s kind of like my good luck charm. I bought it for myself when I got my first job and wear it to important occasions. I’ve styled my hair down, but I’ve loosely pinned back my bangs, which are growing out. I wanted to go for a sophisticated look with a slight edge, and I think I’ve pulled it off. That’s one thing I love about this industry: You can wear clothes that express who you are. At my last agency, the creatives came to work wearing ratty, old T-shirts and ripped jeans. Not me—I always like to look put together. It’s not a vanity thing. To be honest, I consider my looks average or maybe a bit above. You’ve got to work with what you’ve got, so I’ve perfected doing my hair and makeup, and I’ve acquired a great wardrobe. It’s how you pull the whole package together that creates appeal.

I’m a bit nervous for the interview but feel a little better because I’ve done my homework. I Googled each of the people I’m meeting and checked their LinkedIn profiles. I head out, and make the fifteen-minute commute to Hartman & Taylor. Liv couldn’t believe I was walking in heels. After living in New York, I’ve become accustomed to it. I practically live in heels. At five three, I’ll take any extra height I can get. I arrive ten minutes early and give the receptionist my name. She tells me to take a seat and offers me something to drink. I accept a bottle of water and study the reception area. It’s got a modern, Zen-like vibe. The floors are white, and the walls are made of rich wood paneling. The reception desk is white with frosted glass, and a lone purple orchid sits in the middle of it. The Hartman & Taylor logo is etched into a frosted glass half wall behind the desk with a water feature flowing behind it. Tall floor vases filled with bamboo flank each side of the desk. To the right of the desk is a large plasma screen showing a reel of work, and to the left is a gallery of print ads that are displayed in various-sized white frames.

A door opens, and a middle-aged woman walks over to greet me. She introduces herself as Judy Schaefer from HR. I remember my dad once telling me you can tell someone’s character by the quality of his or her handshake, so I shake her hand firmly and smile, hoping to exude confidence. I follow Judy to her office, where she provides an overview of the position, benefits, and salary. She asks me a number of standard questions then runs through my interview schedule. I’m meeting with Morgan Hayes, executive director of account management, at nine; Simon Turner, group creative director, at ten; Michelle Adams, account executive, at eleven; and Jake Hartman, VP of business development, at eleven thirty. All were on my interview list but Jake Hartman. Although I didn’t research him specifically, his name came up a bunch of times. I believe he’s the nephew of Bill Hartman.

Judy leads me to Morgan’s spacious corner office. Morgan stands to greet me and I immediately feel intimidated. She dresses impeccably, wears her dark hair in a sleek bob, and offers me a perfectly manicured hand. It makes me glad I thought to get my nails done yesterday. Her face softens as she offers me a warm smile, which puts me at ease. She explains that the agency was just awarded the Lumineux account. They’re relatively unknown in the States, but it’s our job to make that change. The first assignment is to create a new campaign for their anti-aging skin-care line. She goes on to say that because this is a new piece of business, Hartman & Taylor isn’t fully staffed yet on the account. They’ve pulled various talent from within the agency, but they need a dedicated account lead with prestige experience, preferably someone from the outside who can offer a new perspective. Then she fires questions at me. I can tell she’s fair but tough. She asks about my background, my client relationships—including which level of clients I worked with—and how many direct reports I had. Then she lays out various scenarios and asks me how I would handle each. I think I do a good job answering her questions. I’m well prepared, and I anticipated most of them, so I’m able to weave in the examples I’d thought of beforehand.

Well, Lexi, it sounds like you have great experience. Just one last question: What brings you to Chicago? she asks curiously.

Of course I’d expected this question. It was a dream of mine to live in New York. I’m so fortunate I pursued it and was able to make that dream a reality. It’s truly an amazing city, and I enjoyed my experience there, but Chicago is home. And for personal reasons, it seemed like a good time to come back.

Satisfied, she nods. Now do you have any questions for me?

I ask her about her management style and her role in the day-to-day work, their expectations regarding revenue for the account, and the size of the team I’d be leading. We talk for a few more minutes, and then Judy knocks on the door.

Well, thank you for coming in, Lexi, Morgan says. We’ll be in touch soon.

It was a real pleasure, I tell her.

Judy leads me to Simon’s office. He looks me up and down, and I feel self-conscious under his intense gaze. As soon as Judy walks away, he says, Thank God, someone who actually looks the part. I smile at him questioningly. This is for a prestige beauty brand, he says. We need someone the clients can relate to, not all the Forever 21s I’ve seen so far. You actually have a sophisticated sense of style. I like him already. He asks me a bunch of questions, namely about my relationship with the creative team. I tell him I view it as a partnership because it’s very difficult to sell something if both parties aren’t aligned. I also tell him I’m very supportive of a team pushing the envelope and going off brief as long as it delivers what the client has asked for.

In my experience you can’t successfully sell if you don’t first give the client what they requested, I say. It’s important to deliver what they asked for then show them how it can be even better. This builds trust and makes them more open to the idea rather than being defensive, because we’re essentially telling them they’re wrong.

Simon nods and says, I couldn’t agree more. He asks me what some of my favorite campaigns are that I’ve worked on and why. I answer then ask him the same. Before I know it, Judy is back. Simon kisses both of my cheeks and says to Judy, She’s a keeper. I smile at him and say good-bye.

Things seem to be going well, she says. She leads to me a conference room where Michelle is waiting. She introduces us and says she’ll be back within a half hour. In the first few minutes of our conversation, I can tell that Michelle is a bright girl. We talk about her experience in her current role and what she’ll be doing on the account. She asks me about my management style, which achievements I’m most proud of, and how I’d go about establishing relationships with a new group of clients. She’s sharp, and we establish a good rapport. Soon the half hour is up, and Judy returns to take me to my final interview. Mr. Hartman is finishing up a call, she says. I’ll take you on a brief tour of the office, and then we’ll see if he’s ready. I thank Michelle for her time and follow Judy out.

I know you weren’t originally scheduled to meet with Mr. Hartman, so I appreciate your being flexible. He travels a lot and happened to be in the office today, so I thought it would be good for the two of you to meet, Judy says as she leads me around.

I find it interesting that she’s referred to everyone else on a first-name basis—either Jake prefers to be addressed formally, or she’s fearful of him, neither of which I take to be a good sign. Judy informs me Hartman & Taylor occupies five floors of the building, which they’re already outgrowing. She shows me the office where I’d be sitting, along with the conference rooms, kitchen, and brainstorming area, which takes up half the floor. It’s meant to inspire creativity with a Ping-Pong table, pool table, meeting area with cozy couches and a TV, a library with magazines and books for inspiration, a huge bulletin board, a chalkboard wall, and a small kitchen. Pretty standard for an agency, though when I used to show my friends where I worked, they couldn’t believe it. This is what you do at work? they’d exclaim. I always sensed they were skeptical that I actually worked hard. But I do. My career is very important to me. As we walk, Judy tells me there’s a bar downstairs, Taylor Tavern, where people often gather, though it is not endorsed by the agency.

We head to Jake’s office on the twenty-first floor. Judy introduces me to Joann Silver, his secretary.

Is he ready? she asks.

Yes, go on in, says Joann.

I push aside my nerves and attempt to walk confidently into Jake’s office. He’s sitting behind his desk but stands to greet me. I offer him my hand and hope he doesn’t hear my sharp intake of breath. He is gorgeous. He’s tall, at least six feet, with a nice build and broad shoulders. I take in his icy-blue eyes, sun-kissed skin, and short golden-brown hair that’s a bit longer on top with that perfectly imperfect messy look. He smiles and reveals a pair of dimples, causing the butterflies I just tamed to take flight once more, flapping their tiny wings insistently. I’m momentarily paralyzed, entranced by his good looks. Jake regards me with an amused expression, and I decide he has a sense of boyish charm about him. Even though he’s very attractive, he seems approachable, and I bet that’s a big factor in his success. I was expecting him to be older, but he looks to be in his late twenties. As he towers over me, I realize I misread Judy’s reaction. She’s likely not fearful of him; it’s just that his looks are disarming. I sit down and take a deep, steadying breath.

Nice to meet you, Alexandra, he says. Thanks for meeting with me so last minute.

I manage to regain my composure. Please call me Lexi. I see my résumé on his desk and try to make out the notes he’s written beneath the Alexandra Paige Winters masthead.

So, Lexi, he says, why do you want to work for Hartman and Taylor? You’re obviously very accomplished, having worked at top agencies in Chicago and New York. What makes you interested in us?

Wow, he doesn’t waste time for small talk. You’re right, I say. I have worked at some of the top agencies. And it was an exhilarating experience to be a part of that success. But I’ve found that companies rely on the same formula to stay on top. They want to go with what’s tried and true, which makes them averse to risk. I want to be part of a culture that’s willing to try new things and learn from failure, push new and innovative ideas, and most of all, continually strive to be the best. I’m ready to take on a new challenge.

He regards me intently with his blue eyes, beautiful and vast like the ocean, but what lies beneath is a mystery. I ponder how he can find a shirt in the exact same hue when he interrupts my thoughts. So tell me about yourself. Surprised by his change of tack, I pause. I’ve read your résumé, he says. "I have a good feel for your professional experience. Now I want to know more about you."

Well, I grew up in the northern suburbs and come from a close-knit family of five. I have two sisters, and even though I’m the middle child, somehow I’m the responsible one. I recently moved back here from New York, and I’m living with a close friend until I can find my own apartment. I love working with creative people, which is why I pursued a career in advertising. I thought I’d be a copywriter, but after a summer internship I decided I was a better fit on the account side. Plus I love trying to find a solution when one doesn’t seem possible. I get energized when the client delivers a challenging brief that allows us to work through new solutions to solve their business problems. That’s why I ultimately went into account management. It’s the best of both worlds: I get to manage the work and relationships but still take part in the creative process. I hope I didn’t share too much, but he seems satisfied with my response.

Where in New York did you live?

Murray Hill.

Do you miss it?

Yes, but this is home.

What do you miss the most?

You’ll probably think I’m crazy, but there was this great deli near my office that had the best soups. I went there practically every day.

Jake looks amused, and I wish I’d thought of something wittier. Then he smirks and says, You know, we have great delis here too.

None that I’ve found—not in the city at least.

What about Cahan’s?

I’ve heard it’s good, but I never went because it wasn’t near my office or apartment.

There’s this thing called delivery. You should try it sometime. I laugh, and he does too. Then he tells me he also lived in New York for about six months, right after he graduated from college.

Why did you live there for such a short time?

I moved there to be close to a girl I was dating, but things didn’t work out. I’m pleased about this revelation, although I have no intention of telling him about our shared history. Anyway, he continues, I always knew I’d come work here with my uncle, but she wanted to stay in New York, so we parted ways.

How did you know you wanted to work for your uncle?

I practically grew up here. My dad traveled frequently, so I think my uncle tried to make up for his shortcomings. He attended my sporting events and helped me with homework, advice, that sort of thing. I’d often come to the agency after school and watch him work. I picked up a lot, and as I got older, he started formally training me.

It must have been hard to go through high school without your dad around. What does he do?

He’s a business consultant. He often traveled abroad and was gone for long stretches.

Did it bother him that you wanted to work for your uncle? I hope I’m not getting too personal, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

No, I think he was glad, Jake says. We never discussed it much, but he once told me he regretted not being around enough for the family. He encouraged me to do something I love but advised me to think about the long-term implications. When you’re in your late teens, you really don’t think about how your career might impact your family life.

That’s good advice, I say. It makes me wonder whether he has a family, and I find myself hoping the answer is no. I look at his left hand and notice he isn’t wearing a ring. It must be nice working for a family business. My parents actually work together, I tell him.

What do they do?

My dad is an architect, and my mom is an interior designer. His clients aren’t required to use her services, but many of them opt to. She has a great eye.

Why didn’t you go into the family business?

Believe me, I thought about it. My younger sister Tara probably will follow in my mom’s footsteps. But I wanted to do something I’m passionate about. If I had the skill, I’d have been a fashion designer. This is the next best thing.

Just then Joann pokes her head into his office. Mr. Hartman, your one o’clock is here. Wow, it’s already one? It doesn’t seem like we’ve been talking for over an hour. Disappointment washes over me, and in that moment I resent Joann for the interruption.

Jake turns to me. Do you have any further questions?

Just one. Would you still want to work here if it wasn’t your uncle’s company?

He thinks for a minute. This probably wouldn’t have been my first choice right out of college, he says honestly. But, if for some reason I did end up working here, I definitely would stay. It’s a great group of people. We have some solid blue-chip clients, and we’re growing. When I started here, the company had around a hundred and twenty-five employees. Now we employ more than five hundred and recently opened an office in San Francisco. I think there’s still plenty of room to grow. In fact we’re on a bit of a winning streak, and that brings momentum. It’s an exciting time to be at Hartman and Taylor.

Thank you so much for your time, I tell him.

It was a pleasure to meet you, Lexi, he says, as he shakes my hand, letting his fingers linger a bit longer than necessary. Or perhaps it’s just my imagination. Then he offers me another heart-stopping smile before he turns his attention to the man waiting outside his door.

As I walk out of Jake’s office, I can’t help think that our conversation felt more like a first date than an interview. And for the first time since I walked out on Ben, I’m actually open to the possibility.

Chapter 2

Igrab lunch and head back to my apartment. I’m just about caught up on Grey’s Anatomy when Liv walks in. She’s a teacher, and she has great hours.

How’d it go? she asks, flopping onto the couch next to me.

I think it went well. The creative director seemed to take a liking to me. Liv raises her eyebrows. Liv, he’s gay.

Oh, too bad.

Liv is on a mission to find me a man to help take my mind off Ben. I keep telling her I’m not ready to date anyone. Lexi, she always says in exasperation, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy—just go on one date. You need to find your rebound. As much as I protest, she keeps trying to fix me up, but I always turn her down. What else? she asks. How did it compare to the other places where you’ve interviewed?

I really liked it. I think it’s my top choice. The head of new business said it’s a good time to join the company because they’re winning a lot of accounts.

Of course he’d say that. He obviously wants you to work there.

Well, they have been getting a lot of good press. And I don’t think he’d lie about it. His uncle is one of the founders, so he has the family name to uphold. He also happened to be adorable.

Liv perks up at this revelation. Lexi, spill.

There isn’t much to tell. He looked to be in his late twenties, beautiful blue eyes framed by golden-brown lashes, strong jaw, good body, killer dimples, and no wedding ring. Liv knows I’m a sucker for dimples.

Is that all? she teases. What’s his name?

Jake Hartman.

Let’s go find out about Jake, she says, leading me to her computer. Also, does the company have a policy on inter-office dating?

Liv, they haven’t even given me an offer yet.

I’m just sayin’, she replies.

We first look him up on Facebook, but there are many Jake Hartmans, and none look to be a match. Then she does a Google search and comes up with a number of hits. She skims a bunch of links then filters the search by image. And there he is up on the screen, looking all sexy.

Lexi, she exclaims, he’s gorgeous!

"I told you. I’m sure