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that it actually smells good. So far, he’s been a good ally in the boardroom, despite his larger than life personality sometimes getting in the way. And right now, I need him more than he needs me.

Leaning against my mahogany desk, exhausted by the cast of characters within this business, I ruminate. It’s a wonder how so many people found themselves with so much money. And it’s a miracle I’ve managed to deal with all of them, individually.

“He’s a real pain in my ass,” I mutter.

Sandra twists her lips, balancing on one heel. “They all are,” she sings.

I shut my eyes, wincing from a headache that has just started to take shape. “Just tell him it’s on, and that I’ll bring the cover girl. We’ll get the staff to craft a whole spread on her life. Jim will be pleased.”

There’s a ten percent chance I show up, a five percent chance I’ll take Ali home with me, and a two percent chance this magazine will even happen.

She lights up like a bulb and takes out a notepad and pen, “All right. Let me just pen this in real quick,” she mutters before glancing up again.

“What is it now, Sandra?” I ask.

“Did the model agree to the shoot, or are you just trying to get me out of the room, as usual?” she asks.

I frown. Although it was my suggestion, it’s bizarre to hear her call Ali a model. That’s not really her job. At all. She’s a clear ten, but if she was a model, I wouldn’t give her the time of day.

As I grow older, I find myself more and more drawn to honesty. Ali has that spunk I crave, a body that makes sparks fly, and a mind that exudes intelligence and humor. She has a realness that reminds me that life can be new again, if you just will it to happen. She’s so much more than a model.

“Sandra, how long have you known me?” I ask. “Am I the type of person to keep this from someone?”

Sandra raises a brow. “Sure. If you want to get in their panties.”

Brad chuckles. I punch his arm.

“That’s not very nice,” I mutter.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” she says.

Have I told Ali about the job? Well… not exactly. Sensing her readiness to run, I offered a job I thought she’d like better. I’m not sure if she’s still available.

“Um. Well...”

To my dismay, Sandra resumes writing in her notepad. “I’m going to take that as a no, so I won’t schedule the studio rental today.”

“You don’t believe in me,” I joke.

Her lips tighten to the side. “This is 2021, Marc. If you want to stay in business, you can’t keep pulling these sorts of stunts.”

“That’s news to me,” Brian says.

Sandra rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Ask her on a date. It’s not that hard.”

She walks out of the room and closes the door, effectively shutting my mouth for me. Not going to lie, it’s a little embarrassing.

Brian uses his chair to roll across the room. “She told you off.”

“Shut up,” I say.

Wondering if Jim has texted me, I check my phone. I’ve got another few missed calls. The guy is relentless. Ali is the complete opposite.

Brian waves his hand in front of my catatonic expression. “You there?”

I blink a few times, returning back to the room.

Brows rising, he smirks. “What happened last night? Did you guys...”

He’s elbowing me in the ribcage.

“Real mature,” I say.

He finishes his laughter with a swift swig from his water bottle. “I’m just playing. I know you didn’t get laid. You have all the money in the world, but you, my friend, are terrible with women.”

The truth is I’m not really listening to him. I’m thinking about last night, replaying everything in my head, and wondering what I did wrong. Maybe I offered her too much. Money is an intimidating thing. Or maybe she sees right through me.

She seemed to be enjoying herself at dinner. It was a pleasant conversation up until I mentioned her dog. That’s when things got weird. And then there was the job offer. She left the book behind her. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her about the modeling opportunity. Can’t wait to hear what she has to say about that.

“Of course, I spoke to her,” I say.

Brian leans into my vision. “And you said what, goodbye?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “I offered her one of my books before dinner,” I say. “And then I offered her a job.”

His eyes thrust open with surprise. “Did you buy her a house, too?”

Standing, I make my way toward the southeast wall of my office. I stare at the hazy outline of Mount Rainier. When I first moved here, it’s presence didn’t make it to my awareness. But over the past few months, I’ve come to this spot to look out at the fuzzy white mountain that guards the city, and inspiration almost always finds a way to relax my mind.

This time, however, feels different. It’s like a bad omen, a warning to slow down before I spin out of control. I’ve always been a person who goes after the next thing I can get my hands on. It’s been crucial to my survival and subsequent rise to the top of the publication world.

Who gives a shit? Not me.

I don’t care about this business anymore. At least, not in the same sense as I used to. Money. Things. My enormous paychecks are paying the bills, but they’re giving my brain a deficit I need to escape from. Eventually, I’ll need to retire. I have an obligation to give Sammy what she deserves, and hopefully Ali allows me a real first date.

“I offered her a job,” I say.

Brian’s eyebrows are fixed. “Right. The modeling job.”

“I offered her a different job,” I say. “One more suited to her talents.”

Peering out to the hallway, I see Sandra stop. She turns and looks like her mind is stuck before rushing back

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