Bryn: Because how do you not know that cat photo contests are a thing? Everything is a thing.

Logan: That is true. That is absolutely true. But should everything be a thing?

Bryn: Now you’re going all philosophical. Were you a philosophy major?

Logan: Shockingly, I was not. I studied political science.

Bryn: And you went into business?

Logan: Yes. I think it’s much better than politics.

Bryn: You’re not wrong. How did you make that transition?

Logan: I realized quickly that politics leads to misery pretty much every way you slice it. So I went to business school and earned my MBA. That’s how I eventually devised my Theory of Feline/Political Synergistic Interdependence.

Bryn: Explain, please.

Logan: My Twitter feed is the best example of the principle at work. I follow politics, which makes me angry, and cat memes, which make me happy again.

Bryn: That makes complete sense. And yet you were woefully unaware of the existence of cat photo contests.

Logan: But now I’ve been educated. And watch out, world—from paintball to cat photo contests, here I come.

Bryn: Okay. I’ll bite. You play paintball?

Logan: I do. My friends and I are in a league. It’s fun, and we have a blast.

Bryn: That’s kind of adorable. The same friends you and your sister play softball with?

Logan: Good memory! My sister won’t do paintball with us, since she says we’re too “caveman,” but she is our secret weapon on the softball team. She hits homers for days.

Bryn: Woman power! I love her already! And that’s cool that you play so many fun sports.

Logan: We’re kind of into amateur sports leagues, but we try to mix it up. Some years it’s paintball, sometimes kickball, sometimes dodgeball. We do it for fun and to raise money for charity.

Bryn: Which charities?

Logan: Usually animal rescues or pediatric cancer. My friend’s sister died of cancer when he was in high school.

Bryn: I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s great that you use your free time to try to raise money.

Logan: Thanks. We try. But back to cat photo contests. Should Queen LT enter this one? It’s to raise money for a local cat rescue.

He sends a link to pinup cats. I laugh as I cross the busy street.

Bryn: I know that one! The gal who runs that asked me for some help a year ago when she was developing the site and looking for partnerships. Yes, enter it. Also, that reminds me—I need to introduce you to Casey Sullivan about a potential partnership with Joy Delivered.

Logan: And you just segued to work.

Bryn: Impressive, isn’t it?

Logan: Indeed. Why don’t you swing by this afternoon and we can talk about it? I got the email you forwarded and would love to chat. How’s three?

Bryn: It’s a date.

Bryn: I mean, it’s an appointment.

Logan: See you at three for our “appointment.” :)

I close the phone, pop into the coffee shop for a latte, and bump into Isaac in line.

“You look happy today, Bryn,” he says.

His voice is warm, but I’m frozen. Chills wrap my body.

Stuffing my phone in my purse like it contains state secrets, I try to answer, but I can’t form words. My skin prickles with my guilty conscience. Am I wearing the evidence of that text conversation all over my face?

Yes.

And I need to wipe it off. Right the fuck now.

I conduct a full facial expression erase and draw on my store of grade A cool, composed lady boss. “It’s a sunny day, and the Yankees won last night. Ergo . . .” I give him a need I say more shrug and a stiff, too-perfect grin.

“Indeed.” He chuckles, impossible to read. “Those are excellent reasons.” We shuffle closer to the counter. “So, how are you adjusting to the new ownership?”

“It’s like nothing’s changed,” I say, all cheery and peppy.

“Excellent. That’s what I like to hear.”

I clear my throat. “So, how about that infield fly last night?”

He’s a fan too, so we slide into baseball talk the rest of our time in line, and I spend the rest of my morning at the office setting that conversation behind me.

Because there’s no reason I should feel squicky about talking to the HR director mere seconds after texting with the CEO.

Who I’ve seen naked.

That’s not awkward at all.

Later that day, I remind myself that it’s not weird to be meeting with Logan.

It’s not weird, and there was nothing inappropriate about our texts earlier. They weren’t risqué at all.

They were fun. Light. Professional.

And because I’m a professional, I want to make sure I look good before I see the boss.