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BlackBerrys, but our company culture was hardly one of sending work e-mail around the clock, especially on Sunday afternoons.
    “She’s new. She’ll learn.”
    “Learn what? That being a suck-up doesn’t work in this department?”
    He put his hand on my shoulder. “Want to tell me how you really feel?”
    I looked back at my computer screen. I was sure Mandy would reiterate whatever her weekend epiphany was at the meeting. “Byebye, you suck-up.”
    Delete.
    Kent laughed and walked out of my office. “C’mon, the meeting’s about to start.”
    “Just a second, I’m right behind you.” I had just noticed an e-mail from Andie that said to call her as soon as I got to the office. It was written IN ALL CAPS, very un-Andie.
    I shut my office door and dialed her work number.
    “Andie Barnett,” she said.
    “Hey, it’s me. What’s up?”
    “Are you sitting down?” she said.
    “Yes.” I wasn’t.
    “Seriously, are you sitting down?” she said.
    “How do you always know?” I sat down and slouched in my chair.
    “Okay, I’m sitting down now. What’s the big news?” I said.
    “Well … don’t shoot the messenger, but …”
    “But what?” I said.
    “Waverly, I hate to tell you this, but Aaron is getting married.”
    I sat up straight.
    “WHAT? To who?”
    “To some girl named Stacy Long. It’s in today’s Nob Hill Gazette. I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else.”
    Aaron was getting married? Already? In the year since we’d broken up, I’d been on exactly three dates, all setups who never called me again.
    Before I could speak, Kent knocked on my door and poked his head in.
    “C’mon, Waverly, everyone’s waiting for you.”
    I nodded at him and took a deep breath. “I gotta go, Andie. I’ll call you later.” I put the phone down and closed my eyes. It took all my willpower not to lock the door and google Stacy Long right there. I tried to put my work face back on as I stood up to go to the meeting, but I didn’t think anyone was going to buy it.

    Jess Richards, the VP in charge of our department, walked into the conference room holding a cup of coffee and a manila folder.
    “Good morning, people. Let’s have a quick run around the room to see what’s on everyone’s plate for the week. Waverly, you and Kent leave for the Super Show tomorrow, right?” he said.
    I tried to smile. “Yes, sir. Atlanta here we come.”
    “So I hear JAG is flying in Shane Kennedy?” JAG was short for Jammin’ Athletic Gear, my biggest account.
    I nodded. “Yep.”
    “And I assume the press is lining up to talk to him?” Shane Kennedy was the reigning MVP of the NBA and had just signed a $150 million contract with the New York Knicks. I couldn’t even begin to think about how much money that was per month. Per week. Per game. Per trash-talking incident. Per out-of-wedlock child.
    I took a sip of my chocolate milk and nodded again. “It should be quite a week. We already have more than thirty interviews set up for him, plus dozens of others on the waiting list. Davey’s really pleased.” David Mason was the director of marketing at JAG, i.e., the guy who paid our invoices.
    Kent rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be fun.”
    “I hope so,” I said. “Because Waverly Bryson doesn’t know if she can sit through three days of interviews with a guy who talks about himself in the third person.”
    Jess laughed. “Well, he can sure sink a three, no doubt about that. Nice work lining up all those interviews.”
    “Thanks, Jess. It’s been a real team effort,” I said.
    “I imagine it’s pretty easy getting interviews for a celebrity like that?” Mandy Edwards said.
    I looked at her.
    “Easy?” I said.
    “I mean, did you have to do much to get the press interested?”
    “What’s your point, Mandy?” The press was definitely interested, but that didn’t mean we hadn’t worked hard to put together a great schedule.
    She smiled. “No point. Since I’m new