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“Well, I ticked off my director so badly he won’t even speak to me. I wound up on a date I didn’t realize was a date and wouldn’t have agreed to if I’d known. I presented a brilliant idea that was summarily rejected for inexplicable reasons. I overheard the president of the company saying he didn’t want me associated with his brand. And some mysterious do-gooder keeps leaving coffees on my desk.”

The elevator opened as she burst into bright, bubbly laughter. “That it? You’re fittin’ right in then.”

“Seriously?”

“You reckon you’re the first person to get the silent treatment from Booboo?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it.”

A cool breeze caressed my face as we spilled into the back alley. Ivy’s heels clacked along the pavement at a steady clip. “Man’s got an ego like spun glass. Show him a little sugar, and he’ll melt.”

“Yeah, but then I have to talk to him,” I muttered.

Blond hair streamed prettily around her face when she tossed a smile my way. “Life’s a bitch, ain’t it? But it’s true what they say. You catch more flies with honey.”

But I didn’t want flies. I sighed as we met the bright sunshine of Main Street, where a few pedestrians strolled along the picturesque sidewalks. Anne’s Bakery across the street boasted its ever-present CLOSED sign.

“I know, darlin’,” she said in a commiserating tone. “You got a face like sugar, but even in high school, your words were sharp as knives.”

“Knives?”

“I still remember the skewerin’ you gave Jonathan Herman when he was taunting Emily Spahr that being good at biology didn’t count because it was a girl’s science.”

The memory attacked, and the same anger that rushed into my veins then came flooding back now. “That guy was such a—a⁠—”

She chuckled. “Boy thought the sun came up just to hear him crow.” She hooked her arm through mine again. “My point is, men are so busy measuring their swords, they don’t realize the danger of a double-edged dagger. A woman who’s smarter’ll always intimidate them, and you’re smarter than them all. Treat ’em like a flock of wounded birds, and you’ll get on fine.”

I thought again about the fragility of the male ego, wondering how we let them rule the world for so long when their biggest enemy was their own pride.

“I shouldn’t have to change my personality to be taken seriously.”

A gravity entered her Southern-sweet voice. “No. But you’re a woman living in a man’s world, so until we rise and institute the matriarchy, you have to smile and play the dark game.”

She wasn’t wrong. My master’s thesis dealt heavily in the roles of gender in the workplace. Everything she spoke was information I already knew, but knowing it and applying it to real experiences were quite different. I didn’t want to have to smile and incessantly apologize for being smarter than the men around me.

Ivy seemed to sense my indignation and squeezed me closer. “You’re not fighting alone.” She stopped before the familiar glass door of the coffee shop down the street from Henley and smiled. “Coffee?”

“Why not? Wednesdays are for caffeine overdoses.”

“That’s the spirit!”

A blast of warm, coffee-scented air inundated us as soon as she opened the door to the quaint space. The menu was as tempting as it had been that first day, but just like last time, I ordered a regular coffee.

Ivy stopped the barista with an imperious wave, then looked at me. “This whole pretty menu, and you pick a black coffee?”

Ivy Hayes, heiress to some ungodly sum of money that only grew with each generation, had likely never had to watch her spending, but I wasn’t embarrassed to tell her my truth. “I’m pinching my pennies until I get back on my feet.”

“Oh, darlin’, why didn’t you say something? It’s on me.” She faced the barista. “Make whatever she wants.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

Her gaze hardened in a way that reminded me of my mother. “I insist.”

“Are—are you sure?” I asked.

Eyebrows raised, she swept her hand toward the menu in an inviting gesture. “My treat.”

I perused the options. “Then I’ll have a vanilla lavender latte.”