"I knew there was a reason I keep you around."

Penny had the words stuck inside her head. Again. Her boss could be a funny guy, but he'd made that one joke a few too many times. You'd think such an accomplished ladies' man would get some new material.

Then again, if he did have new material, he wouldn't bother wasting it on her.

With a yank, Penny pulled the rubber band out of her long blond hair and let it cascade around her shoulders. It whipped in the wind as she strode down the crowded city sidewalk. She kept her hair pulled back for work, but now she needed to leave the office behind. It was Friday night, after all. She had more important things to do than stew about her boss.

"See, I knew there was a reason I keep you around." 

What was it about those words of his that rankled? Maybe it was the assumption, just beneath the surface, that she had nowhere else to be.

Not that he'd ever bothered to ask her. Why should he? She was a temp. Correction: a long-term temp. The lowest rung on the corporate ladder, only a slight step up from the street vendors hawking coffee and donuts from their sidewalk carts outside her office building every morning. Why would he possibly ask somebody like her if she had any career plans of her own? He probably didn't even know she had a college degree. As far as David Powers was concerned, she was there because he kept her around. Plain and simple.

"Enough," Penny muttered to herself. She smoothed her fingers over her windblown hair as she made her way through the entrance of the packed bar.

The place had only been open for a few weeks, but she could already tell it was going to be a scene. It had already achieved an enviable clientele: the perfect mix of girls like her - twenty-something, after work, showing just a little bit of skin - surrounded as usual by Wall Street types in their white Oxford shirts and loosened ties. Purgatory, the place was called. Not that the name was displayed anywhere on the unmarked door outside. It looked like nothing more than a slightly sketchy Manhattan apartment building from the street. If you didn't know about the narrow staircase that led down into the plush subterranean space, you weren't hip enough to be seen here anyway.

Penny paused at the bottom of the stairs and swiveled her head, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. After a moment, she caught sight of her friends, Lauren, Kristen, and Cora, waving her over.

"Hey! You're late!"

"Sorry," Penny said as she slid into the booth. She chucked her purse onto the seat beside her and met eyes with the girl on the other side of the table. "Working late," she explained.

Lauren merely snorted in response.

"What?" Penny asked. Her shoulders tensed automatically as she took in the skeptical look on Lauren's face.

"And how is Mr. Fancy Pants?"

"He wasn't even there." Penny glared across the table. "He left at six."

Kristen sighed audibly from her corner of the booth. "Ladies, please. Can we try not to be completely dysfunctional for one night?"

"OK!" Lauren held up her hands defensively. "I was just asking."

"Honestly, I had reports to type up," Penny muttered. "That's all."

Cora looked down at her phone. "Penny, it's after nine o'clock."

"Well, I had a lot to get through."

"I swear to God," Lauren said, "You've got to be the only temp on Earth who keeps working three hours after her boss left for the day."

"Just because I'm a temp, doesn't mean I don't care about my job."

Penny pretended not to hear her friend's derisive laugh. She gritted her teeth and flipped open a cocktail menu, praying that the conversation would veer in a safer direction once they all had drinks.

Lauren, Kristen, and Cora had been her roommates since the summer after they all graduated from college. There was a time when Penny used to consider Lauren one of her closest friends, but their relationship had grown tense lately - or beyond tense, if Penny was being honest. Lauren always had an acidic sense of humor, but her attitude felt downright hostile these past six months.

Penny knew well enough what was bugging her friend. The four of them were crammed together in a cramped three-bedroom apartment, and Lauren was counting the days until she could turn Penny's makeshift third bedroom back into a living room. It was supposed to happen in the fall when Penny headed off to medical school - but all those plans had to be set back another year when Penny missed the December deadline to reapply.

"Lauren," Kristen interjected, adopting her usual role of referee. "Let's just drop it. OK?"

"Sure, I'm dropping it," Lauren replied. "Consider it dropped." There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. "So how's the MCAT prep going, Penny?"

"What are you, my mom? It's a Friday night!"

Lauren shrugged. "It's just a question."

"Whatever." Penny turned and started looking around for a waitress to take her order, but Lauren refused to let it go.

"When's the test again?"

"I've still got a few weeks," Penny muttered vaguely.

"So, are you ready?"

Kristen put a hand on Lauren's arm. "Seriously. Stop it."

"I want to know if she's ready," Lauren said.

"And I want to get a guy to pay for my martini," Kristen replied. "How is that supposed to happen if you two spend the whole night cat-fighting?"

"Actually, I think that might be a surefire way-"

"You know what I mean."

"Penny knows I'm just looking out for her."

Great, Penny thought to herself as she turned to face Lauren again. Thanks for the support. She knew she shouldn't let her friend's attitude bother her so much. Lauren didn't have all the facts. She didn't know the real reason that Penny spent the two long years since college stuck in a dead-end temp job. And Penny didn't feel particularly obligated to fill her in. . . .

"I just see you making a mistake," Lauren went on. "And I care about you, so-"

"What mistake?" Penny interrupted, closing her menu with a snap.

"There's always an excuse, Penny."

"What excuse?"

Lauren, Kristen, and Cora had been her roommates since the summer after they all graduated from college. "Lauren, come on. Give it a rest."

"No, I want to hear now." Penny squared her shoulders. "What excuse, Lauren?"

"You should be two years into med school by now! That was the plan, remember? Temp for a couple months the summer after senior year. Crash on our futon. Save some money. And then start med school in the fall. Right? What happened to that?"

"You know I had to defer-"

"Oh, right. You had to." Lauren rolled her eyes. "It has nothing to do with the fact that your boss happens to be a stone cold fox."

Penny shot her friend a warning look, but Lauren rolled on, warming to her subject.

"So then you deferred for a year. And then the fall after that, you gave up your slot. And then you missed the deadline to reapply. And then your MCAT scores lapsed. And--"

"Guys-"

"And now the test is in a few weeks, and you just spent three hours you could have been studying-"

"Guys!"

"Well, sorry I'm not living my life according to your schedule, Lauren."

"You're not living your life according to your schedule, Penny. You're living it by his schedule. And he's not even your boyfriend! That would be bad enough. God knows we've seen you make that mistake before-"

"Guys!" Cora was pulling on the sleeve of Penny's blouse, trying desperately to get her friend's attention.

Penny snapped her eyes away from Lauren's face and looked at Cora, not even trying to conceal her irritation. "Oh my God, Cora!" she exclaimed. "What?"

"Look! Isn't that him?"

***

David lifted his beer bottle and took another swig. He knew he should slow down. One more drink, and he'd need someone to roll him home tonight. Especially since he started earlier than the rest of the guys at the table. He'd already been two drinks deep into pre-dinner cocktails when his date for the evening had come to a premature halt.

Scotch on the rocks for the gentleman. A cranberry and vodka for the lady. . . .

He should've known it was a non-starter the moment he heard her drink order. Maybe that needed to be a rule: Don't date women who drink cranberry juice. It would save him a lot on the dry cleaning bill.

Penny would take care of it, he knew. She had some guy in Chinatown who always managed to get the stains out. Wine stains. Grass stains. Even blood. . . .  But then again, if he turned over his ruined tie to Penny, she'd undoubtedly guess the rest of the story. He could just imagine the way she would crow with laughter.

His big first date with the hotshot female prosecutor from the U.S. attorney's office - and somehow he had crashed and burned. He'd been going on and on about it to Penny all week long. He'd been called as a witness in a securities fraud case, and he'd returned from his deposition with even more of a strut in his step than usual. 

"Did you win?" Penny had asked him.

"I always win," he'd responded, flashing a business card triumphantly. "Got her number, right there on the courthouse steps."

And he hadn't even made it past drinks? Oh man, Penny was going to rake him over the coals.

He should probably be dreading Monday morning - but somehow, the idea of his secretary's teasing made the corners of his mouth twitch upward. David took another sip of beer to hide the involuntary smile as he imagined her sarcastic voice inside his head.

"Well, David, that's what happens when you've dated every unattached female on the entire island of Manhattan."

His smirk widened into a grin as he crafted his retort. "What would you suggest, Penny? Celibacy?"

"Maybe branch out to Brooklyn? They have women there, I've heard."

"Brooklyn." Throw in a fake shudder. "Pretty sure that's worse than celibacy."

That would get her going, David knew. He could count on Penny to bring out the big guns when he started insulting the outer boroughs. "You do recall that I commute from Brooklyn every day, right?"

"I choose to overlook it."

"On the subway, no less."

"I have no problem with the subway, Penny. I'm a man of the people."

"Then what's your problem with Brooklyn?"

"You know my rule."

"Which one is that? Let me think, now. Don't get him wet. No direct sunlight. And never, ever feed him after midnight. . . ."

Smart ass. David swallowed his laughter as he looked around the table of fellow i-bankers. He'd headed back to the office after his disastrous date, but he never quite made it back upstairs to Penny's cubicle. Halfway to the elevator bank, he'd run smack into the onrushing tide of the Chicago trading desk letting out for the evening. He hadn't bothered to fight the current when they invited him along for a drink.

Most of these futures traders were only a few years removed from their college frat house days, but they were usually good for a laugh. Anyway, it was after nine o'clock. Penny would be gone for the day. Probably had a date of her own tonight, for all he knew. It wasn't like she ever confided in him about her love life. God, why was he even thinking about her love life? She was 22. Well, no, 24 now - but same difference. Why would she possibly be at her desk at nine o'clock on a Friday night?

In any case, he was glad to be out somewhere when the text came through from Leo:

**************
Leo Schenck: Need those numbers on steel first thing Monday morning.

David Powers: No boss. What you need is to get a life.
**************

He knew what Leo was doing, of course. Working late on a Friday - sometimes so late that he ended up sleeping in his office and working straight through Saturday too. It was the same story most weekends, ever since Leo's divorce. Couldn't be healthy. David knew that. Hell, even Leo knew that. But everyone had their coping mechanisms.

Still, David was glad to be out with coworkers, even if these Chicago guys tended to be pricks. It wasn't too hard to convince Leo to pack it in early and come meet them.

Now, David set his beer bottle down on the table and forced his attention back to the conversation going on around him.

"Red head. Five o'clock. I think she's looking at you, Sean."

"Nah. She's looking at Powers. They're always looking at Powers."

David glanced at the freckle-faced boy who had spoken beside him. How old was he? Twenty-four? Twenty-five, tops. "You can have her," David said. He cast an arm around the kid's shoulders and gave him a friendly pat on the back. "Not really my type."

"I don't get it," said another guy, looking back and forth between David and the girl who kept glancing over from a few tables away. "Why wouldn't you hit that? She's practically begging for it."

David shrugged and took another sip of beer.

"He has rules," Leo chimed in. David nodded in agreement.

"What kind of rules?"

"Oh, you know," David replied vaguely. "Just a few lessons I've learned the hard way."

"Like what? No red heads?"

David shook his head and looked around at the young faces surrounding the table, considering whether they deserved to benefit from his years of collected wisdom. Probably not. But hell, he was drunk.

"Redheads are OK," he responded, leaning in. "It's the blondes that tend to be trouble. Natural blondes especially."

"Why?"

"Think about it," David said. "They've been ooh'ed and ahh'ed over since before they learned how to walk. Spoiled rotten, nine times out of ten."

"So then what's wrong with Miss Red over there?"

David flicked his eyes in the girl's direction, taking in her appearance in a single glance. She was tall and thin - probably almost as tall as he was. Her low-cut blouse looked designer, but the heels of her shoes were worn down. Either she was on a budget, or the blouse had been a gift. Usually, the purse was a dead giveaway, but she wasn't even carrying one - just a smart phone in a glittery case. Bingo.

"No one under 26," David responded. "And no one making less than six figures a year."

One of the guys across the table shot him a look like he'd just grown two heads. "Well, that's gotta be the dumbest thing I've heard today."

David shrugged. These kids would learn eventually. The city was full of beautiful girls who made a career of being squired around town by guys like him - single, with money to burn. He could snap his fingers in a bar like this, and half a dozen of them would come running. The aspiring actresses and models, always working some crappy day job. But it was only temporary, right? That was always the story. Just until they got their big break. Right.

More like just until they got their hooks into a man with a bank account. Funny how all those dreams of the footlights evaporated the minute someone put a ring on their finger. Then it was no more auditions. No more callbacks. No more crappy day job either, for that matter. Hello miniature purse poodles and lunches at Le Cirque and Barneys store accounts. He couldn't even count how many guys he'd seen fall into the trap. Smart guys. Guys who'd been around the block enough times to know better.

Guys like Leo.

He'd had a front-row seat for the whole show with Leo. David could still remember the first time his boss had mentioned her: the future Mrs. Leo Schenck. She was a ballet dancer. Twenty-three. Trained at Julliard. She was good, too. Damned talented. Just making ends meet as a receptionist until she could get far enough along to support herself dancing.

"This one is different, David," Leo had insisted. "She's got a good head on her shoulders. She's a sweet girl." They all started as sweet girls, didn't they? Didn't seem so sweet a few years later when they walked away with half your assets and a nice fat alimony check.

That's what really made David's forehead break out in a fine sweat. Seeing it happen to Leo. He'd always looked up to Leo - his boss and mentor, but more than that. Leo was like the big brother he'd never had. Probably the smartest guy David ever met. And still, he'd made the dumbest mistake in the book, the moment he got his heart involved.

If it could happen to Leo, it could happen to anyone. That's why there had to be rules. Rigid, unbreakable rules. Discipline. It always boiled down to discipline. Secret to success, as far as David was concerned. Not just in love, but in a lot of things. Want to make it to the top of the corporate ladder? Be the first one in and the last one out of the office every single day. Want to run the New York City marathon in under three hours? Get out there and pound the pavement every single morning. Rain or shine. Sick or healthy. No excuses. No exceptions. Discipline.

"Rules," David said. He turned his head and met eyes with the redhead, casting an apologetic shrug in her direction. Sorry. Not interested. "Rules are rules."

Leo pointed to the front of David's shirt, speckled with pink splatter. "Yeah, I see those rules are really working out for you there."

David looked down and then met his boss's eyes with a sheepish grin.

"New rule," he replied. "If she orders a cosmo, run."

Leo snorted. "I don't know why you even bother dating, Dave."

"I have a romantic soul."

Leo nearly choked on his drink.

The guys across the table missed this little aside, still hung up on the previous line of conversation. "Rules my ass," one of them said to David. "Everyone knows you're getting it on the side from that secretary of yours."

David laughed. "I can't even begin to tell you how many rules that would violate." He took a breath to change the subject, but his voice was lost in the flurry of retorts.

"Which secretary?"

"You know. With the nice rack?"

"He has a romantic soul."

"Oh shit. The blond one?"

"But is she a natural blonde?"

"Yeah, David. Does the carpet match the drapes?"

"What's her name again? Debbie or something?"

"Penny."

David knew he should cut it off right then and there. He shouldn't let her name get thrown around like that. These assholes didn't know the first thing about Penny.

David knew a thing or two. He wasn't above a bit of innocent Google-stalking now and then. He couldn't even count how many nights he'd ended up in front of his computer at two in the morning, googling her name. Nights just like this - home alone after a little too much to drink. . . .

In any case, Penny didn't advertise it, but he knew she went to a good school. Valedictorian of her high school class. Majored in Biology. Biology? That had come as a surprise. What the hell was she doing in finance? For that matter, what the hell was she doing temping? Why hadn't she gotten her foot in the door through the usual ivy-league recruiting process - same as he had, when he was 22?

"Pretty Penny!" The guy across the table was laughing at his own joke as if he'd just said something uproariously funny.

"Come on, guys. Knock it off." David set down his beer bottle and tried for a disapproving glare, but his words were lost in the cacophony of other voices. The roast was in full swing now.

"I can't say I blame you, Dave."

"Hey, take a dozen pretty Pennies and what do you get?"

"What?"

"Twelve cents and a case of the clap!"

***

"That's David, right? Your boss?"

Cora pointed across the room, and Penny's heart dropped into her stomach the moment she caught sight of him: David Powers, Senior Vice President of Mergers & Acquisitions at the most powerful bank in New York, surrounded by his Wall Street brethren. It looked like he was having a good time - suit jacket thrown over a chair, top three buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned, with his white undershirt sticking out. His tie was nowhere in attendance.

And neither was his date.

Penny recognized a few guys from the Chicago trading desk standing around a cocktail table littered with empty beer bottles. And there was Leo, of course - David's boss and best friend. What was David doing out with them tonight? The date must have gone south in a hurry. It was only nine o'clock. They must not have even made it through dinner. Penny couldn't prevent the smile that twitched her lips at the thought.

"See," Lauren said to Kristen. "Look at her face, and tell me she doesn't have a crush on him."

"It's not a big deal," Penny said, forcing the corners of her mouth back into a neutral expression.

"You're throwing your life away over a crush, Penny. I mean, I thought it was bad when you were following Greg around like a little lost puppy dog, but at least he was your boyfriend!"

Penny cringed at the mention of her ex. "This has absolutely nothing to do with Greg," she said, wriggling uncomfortably in her seat. "That's ancient history."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Penny. I honestly don't care what you do with Greg or David or anyone else. It might be nice to get our living room back someday. That's all I'm saying."

Kristen was sipping her drink, still studying the group at David's table. "Who are those other guys with him? Do you know them?"

"Go for the one with the blue tie," Penny replied. "That's Leo. He's a Managing Director. I don't even know how many billions he must be worth."

Kristen raised her eyebrows. "That guy? The short one?"

"Sure. Park Avenue penthouse. House in the Hamptons. The whole nine yards."

"Does he have a yacht, though?" Kristen asked with a giggle. "I've decided not to waste any more time dating men without yachts."

"Oh, not you too, please." Lauren leaned forward and rested her head on top of her arms in despair.

"What?" Kristen protested. "Oh, come on, Lauren. It's a joke! He's not that bad looking, though."

"He's got to be at least 40!"

"He isn't married?" Kristen asked Penny.

"Divorced. Do you want me to introduce you?"

"So, is this what we're doing now?" Lauren said, looking to Cora for support. "Prowling for sugar daddies?"

"Cora doesn't need a yacht," Kristen supplied, with a mischievous wink at her friend. "She only gets turned on if the guy has a PhD."

"Preferably multiple doctoral degrees," Cora agreed, smiling at her hands. "But I'll settle for just one if he has a tenure-track position at NYU."

Penny laughed, and Kristen raised her glass to salute Cora's recent triumph: the engagement ring on her finger, courtesy of a thirty-year-old assistant professor named Steven, who had proposed after a year of dating.

Penny opened her mouth to ask Cora for an update on the wedding plans—anything to change the subject and get the spotlight off her personal life—but Lauren still refused to let it go.

"See, that's funny," Lauren said with a tight smile. "You know why that's funny instead of pathetic? Because our dear Cora here is two years into a dual doctoral program herself. She'll have more degrees than Steven does by the time she's done."

Penny sipped her drink. "I didn't realize that was the bar we used to measure people's worth."

"Use whatever metric you want," Lauren said. "The point is, you can do both. Go after successful guys and be a successful person in your own right."

Kristen shrugged, still trying to de-escalate the tension. "I'm not going after anyone, but I'm not going to hold it against a guy if he happens to be loaded."

"Even if he's old enough to be your dad?"

"The blue tie is a little old. But David's still in his 30s, right?"

"You guys, we're better than this," Lauren argued. "We're Princeton graduates. Ivy League. Penny, you were magna cum laude!"

Exactly, Penny thought. Ivy League. She'd spent her entire life in high school studying to get into Princeton. And then she'd spent her entire life in college studying to get into med school. So what if she wanted to lay low for a little while? Hadn't she earned herself a break?

Of course, she knew that she was only making excuses. There was a reason she'd spent the last two years in a lowly temp job, and it had nothing to do with academic burnout. Her roommates put it down to a hopeless crush, but they didn't have all the facts. They didn't know what happened that final day of work before Penny was supposed to head to med school orientation. She'd been too shaken at the time to talk about it with her friends. And now, after two years of relentless nagging, she hardly considered them friends at all anymore. Her career decisions were none of their business anyway. . . .

Penny couldn't help sneaking another glance across the room. David had his back to her, and it was too far away to make out what he was saying. The guys around him had their heads thrown back in laughter. He must have told a funny story. Penny felt a pang of jealousy that she wasn't close enough to hear.

David leaned into the cocktail table, intent on something the other men were saying. The fabric of his suit pants strained as he bent forward. He had a great body. Lean but muscular. A runner's body. He'd gone a little soft for a while there, but he was back in shape now - better than ever.

Penny silently willed him to turn his head and catch sight of her. Would he be happy to see her? Would he break into that half-smile that made little crinkles at the corner of his eye? Would he wave for her to come over to him and drape a lazy arm across her back?

Turn your head, she silently commanded. Turn it. Turn it now.

He remained still. The guy to his left punched him in the arm.

To hell with it, Penny thought. "Come on, Kristen." She reached out for her roommate's hand. "I'll introduce you. Let's go say hello."

Lauren let out one last groan of dismay as her two friends slid out of the booth, but she wasn't about to be ditched. She and Cora followed a few feet behind as Penny and Kristen wove their way across the crowded room.  The three girls had almost arrived at David's side of the table when Kristen pulled up short and grabbed Penny's arm.

"What?" Penny shot her friend of questioning glance. She'd already been practicing her opening line inside her head. Tap him on the shoulder and compose her features into a look of mild surprise. "Why, David Powers! Fancy meeting you here." He would smile when she said it. He loved to use that line on her, every morning when she came charging into her cubicle fifteen minutes late. . . .

Penny pressed her hand impatiently on Kristen's back to urge her forward, but Kristen's feet remained firmly planted on the ground.

"What?" Penny asked again. It was then she heard her name, uttered by an unfamiliar voice.

"Pretty Penny!"

"I can't say I blame you, Dave."

"Hey, take a dozen pretty Pennies and what do you get?"

"What?"

"Twelve cents and a case of the clap!"

"The thing that gets me, Powers, is she isn't even your type!"

"What's his type?"

"Oh, you know. The overeducated, 16-letters-after-her-name, smarter-than-he-is type."

"He likes 'em high powered."

"Hey, Penny's high powered. She works for the most respected M & A team on Wall Street!"

"Ummm, don't you mean she's sleeping with the most respected M & A team on Wall Street?"

"Hey, don't sweat it, Dave. If the temp agency sent me over a piece of ass like that, I'd keep her around too."

For a moment, Penny froze. Kristen's eyes had gone wide. She tried to say something, but her words were lost beneath the buzzing sound in Penny's ears.  Penny shook her head and turned, averting her eyes from the spot where Lauren stood.

Queasy and lightheaded, Penny bolted for the door. She half-walked, half-ran up the stairs and into the street.