Black

“Absolutely not. We’ve gone over this how many times?”

“Shae, listen to me. I can afford to help you out while you get on your feet. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. Do the event planning part time, and let me worry about the rest.”

“JJ, listen to me.” He narrows his eyes as I mock him. “I don’t want you to help me. I’m a grown woman. I’ve had a stable, full-time job, and I’ll find one again. But until then, I need to have a steady income.”

And not just for rent, but because of my love for handbags. JJ would probably think twice about supporting me if he knew how much my latest Louis Vuitton cost.

“Fine.” He picks up the first application. Shaking his head, he rips the paper in half. “Bad neighborhood.”

“Okay. How about this one? Bartender at Shiver Vodka Bar.”

He snatches the paper from my hand. “Nope. Try again.”

“Are you going to tear up every application? Because that’s not going to work for me. I need a job.”

“It’s bad enough you’re even considering work as a bartender in the city. At least pick a place with some class or in a better neighborhood so I don’t have to worry about you every second you’re gone.”

I would argue with him, but it’s no use. He’s a hot-headed, macho computer nerd who somehow always gets his way. Plus, he loves me, and he’s looking out for me. I know better than to take that for granted.

“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll pick out the ones in decent neighborhoods and go from there.”

“Thank you.” Standing up, he tosses the shredded papers in the trashcan. “You better get your ass ready or we’ll never get out of here on time.”

“Whatever.” I wave him off. “I only need an h

our tops.”

Two hours later, I stand in front of yet another building while JJ parks the car. Disappointment slowly creeps in. I’ve been living here for three weeks and spending every spare moment walking the streets and taking the el to different neighborhoods, trying to trigger some sort of memory. Dr. Fairfield said it was only a matter of time before something sparked a recollection, but I’m starting to think she just said that to make me feel better.

I feel JJ’s gentle touch on my arm, and I sigh, grateful someone is able to keep me grounded and pull me back to reality. I often find myself tangled in the web of thoughts that consume my brain.

“You okay?”

I look up as JJ smiles warmly at me. “I’m better than okay.”

He quirks a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I nod, trying to convince myself more than him. “Our best friend is getting married to a sexy, successful, and kind man. Of course I’m better than okay.”

“Sexy?” JJ scrunches his nose. “I don’t know that I’d call Jacob sexy. That might be going a tad too far.”

“Yes, well, you’re a man. Ask any woman if Jacob is sexy, and you’ll get a unanimous drop of the panties.”

JJ waggles his eyebrows. “Am I sexy enough to drop panties?”

“Even better,” I croon, leaning in close. “You melt them.”

JJ grabs my skirt, acting as though he’s going to lift it up, and I slap his hand away.

“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing.

“Checking to see if your panties are melting.” Twin dimples wink at me when he grins. If he wasn’t one of my best friends, and the brother I’ve never had, my panties would, in fact, have just melted.

“Who says I’m wearing any?”

The look on JJ’s face is priceless. His jaw nearly hits the sidewalk before snapping shut. Giving him a wink, I turn my attention to the entrance of the building and completely ignore him when he mumbles, “You better be wearing underwear.”

“Vault,” I say, reading the stainless-steel letters stretching across the middle of the brick building. Above that are rows upon rows of tinted windows.