When I woke again, Dennis was long gone.

Even that faint trace of his cologne had faded from the room, as if last night had only been a dream.

My phone rang, shrill and insistent.

I looked. Twenty-some missed calls, all from coworkers.

"Barbie, why aren't you at the office yet?"

"The rural Midwest project wrapped up clean, and today's the day headquarters officially names you department manager. Did you forget?"

"I'm on my way."

I tossed the phone down and rushed to the bathroom to get ready.

But when I went out the door, the little car Dennis had once given me wouldn't start.

He'd brought up giving me a car more than ten times, and every time I'd turned him down.

Until the day a downpour trapped me out in the suburbs and I couldn't get a ride, so I missed my next meeting slot with a client and cost the company over a million dollars.

He used that to make his point, and after a lot of thought, I finally agreed.

But I had conditions. I got to pick the brand, and the price range.

In the end I chose a Nissan, around ten grand.

Cheap. Good on gas.

Dennis wasn't happy about it, said I'd gone too low, but he couldn't argue me out of it, so he let me have my way.

I never thought the man would leave and the car would die right along with him.

There was no time to feel anything about it. I just had to head out and flag down a ride.

But at that exact moment, right in the middle of the morning rush, there was simply no ride to be had.

Then Dennis's black company car eased to a smooth stop in front of me. "Get in."

I refused on instinct and turned to keep walking, meaning to flag something down on the other side.

His brow furrowed. He let off the gas and trailed slowly along beside me. "You won't get a ride this time of day."

"Unless you want to be late."

I…

I hesitated a couple of seconds, then got into his passenger seat after all.

The whole way I didn't look at him, even turned pointedly toward the window, as if that alone could sever any tie between us.

The car stopped a few yards short of the office.

"Dennis, we shouldn't see each other anymore."

I all but fled to the office.

By the time I reached my desk, there were two minutes left before the workday started.

The coworkers I knew well crowded around to congratulate me.

"Congrats, Barbie."

"You finally made it. All that hard work paid off."

"Right? Don't forget about us little people once you're big and important."

I laughed. "Nothing's official yet, don't jinx it."

That was what I said out loud, but in my heart I thought it was as good as done.

Even I believed it.

Since graduating college, I'd stayed on in Harborview.

For years I poured everything into carving out a place for myself in this city.

Overtime with no end to it, whole nights burned through without sleep.

All to prove myself to everyone.

At least now it seemed the hard years were finally paying off.

Unlucky in love, but if I could win at work, that made it worth it.

Then, the very next moment, my boss called me into his office, and the dream shattered.

"Barbara, you did excellent work on the rural Midwest project. But the company's leadership has made a final decision. The project department head position will go to Clementine Chavez."

"Going forward, you'll need to fully support her in her work."

"Why?" I stood there frozen, and it was a long time before I heard my own voice.

"Leadership's decision. Whose decision?" My chest was full of resentment and rage.

That position was what I'd earned with eight uncomplaining years at this company. I'd earned it with blood and sweat. It was mine.

"You promised me yourself. You said that once I finished this project, the project department manager position—"

"Barbara, you've been here long enough. I don't need to teach you how things work." Seeing how worked up I was, he cut in right on cue.

I pressed the emotion back down, closed my eyes, and drew a slow breath.

When I opened them again I was a good deal calmer. "Even so, the person replacing me shouldn't be some newcomer who just walked in the door."

He looked at me, started to speak, then stopped.

Maybe he couldn't quite bring himself to stay silent. With a soft sigh, he told me anyway. "You know how it is. In this business, ability is one thing, and connections are another."

"When Clementine joined, she brought a hundred-million-dollar investment project with her. That's eighty million more than your rural Midwest project."

"And more than that, her fiancé is Mr. Farley of the Farley Group. So tell me, do you really think that hundred million is all there is behind her?"

"If you were the one deciding, who would you pick?"

As I stepped out of my boss's office, I ran into Clementine Chavez at the door.

She was the kind of girl you noticed at a glance.

Very pretty, with a confidence that shone in her eyes, the sort bred into someone raised in comfort her whole life.

"Hi, I'm Clementine Chavez."

I looked down at her outstretched hand, and for a moment my mind went somewhere else.

This company was a branch office of the Farley Group.

Yet in the eight years I'd worked here, Dennis had never let a single person know what I was to him.

I never cared for the spotlight, and I certainly never wanted anyone saying my hard work was really just Dennis's doing.

But for her, on the very day she started, he all but announced it to the world.

She, Clementine Chavez, was under his protection.

Think twice about who stood behind her before you crossed her.

I almost laughed. Whether he loved you or not, it turned out, had been written into all those years the whole time.

Out of pure spite I stepped past her and headed for the exit.

"I know who you are." Her cool voice came from behind me.

I stopped short, but I didn't dare turn around.

I didn't have to guess where Clementine had gotten her information.

Back then, Dennis and I had dated in earnest, and yet here I was, treated like a mistress who couldn't stand the light, hunted down by the proper wife.

I didn't linger. I walked away fast.

At this hour, Dennis was usually at the gym.

He liked to work out, mostly to keep his head clear.

He'd told me once that exercise kept him sharp.

When I got there, I was stopped at the door.

Usually his assistant came out to bring me in.

I waited a while, and sure enough, Dennis's assistant appeared in the distance.

I was about to go to him when my eyes snagged on someone behind him.

Somehow, Clementine had come too.

She'd changed clothes, the office suit gone, now in a white athleisure set, her long hair loosely pinned up, looking young and full of energy.

I wanted to flee, but my feet stayed nailed to the spot.

"Miss Winfield, we meet again."