I narrowed my eyes playfully at him. “Are you saying this job causes hair loss? You’re making M&A sound more appealing by the second.”

He looked surprised for a moment before letting out a deep belly laugh, just as my eyes settled on his whiteboard, whose right side listed the names of twenty or so deals in green dry-erase marker. On the left side was a list of what I soon gathered were last names. “Vogel” had a check mark next to it, as did a few others, including “Greyson.”

“Those are the first-years who indicated an interest in M&A. Want to get them all some experience,” Matt explained, following my gaze. “Checks are for those who we’ve staffed up on matters.”

I wondered what they had Carmen working on, and if her deal was bigger or more important than mine, but I realized she had a leg up anyway, with Matt as her mentor.

“Okay,” Jordan said, stretching his neck from side to side as though stretching before a workout. “Project Hat Trick. You’re up.”

They both turned to me, and I felt a rush of stage fright but forced my mouth to open.

“Okay. So our preliminary bid was accepted.”

“I’m aware,” Matt said dryly, but Jordan nodded encouragingly.

“I just gained access to the due diligence materials on Monday, so I’m not quite finished reviewing them, but I’m moving along. There’s a solid nonassignment provision in one of the Freestyle contracts.” As I’d learned that morning while reading Investopedia on a lurching E train, this was a problem because when our client bought the company, that contract would become void instead of being transferred to us. I’d spent hours last night coming up with three possible solutions to present. As I prepared to share my rehearsed recommendations, I reminded myself to act as though they were off the top of my head.

Matt looked at Jordan. “Get it waived,” he said calmly. Jordan nodded and made a note. They looked back to me, ready to move on. It occurred to me then just how little I knew about what I was doing.

“I’ve already started preparing the offer letter, just so we don’t get behind the eight ball,” I said, regurgitating the language Jordan had used when he asked me to prepare the letter, “but I’ll update it as we go, and Jordan is reviewing my changes to the purchase agreement. I noted some concerns on the balance sheet, but Jordan will discuss them if need be, I guess. Committed financing is locked up.” I exhaled and looked up.

Matt looked at me seriously. “Good,” he said flatly, with no hint of praise, then turned back to his computer and began typing.

I allowed my shoulders to relax and looked at Jordan, who gave me a small wink. I couldn’t keep the corners of my lips from curling skyward.

“Skip, you’re killing me. I can never fucking find the attachments to your emails,” Matt said, not looking away from his monitor. “Attach them right below your text. Not at the bottom of a forty-email chain.”

I turned around and looked over my shoulder, but when I looked back at Matt, he was staring directly at me.

“Yes. You’re Skippy. Skip for short,” Matt said.

I opened my mouth and shut it, deciding to stop asking questions.

“Why is this deal called Project Hat Trick anyway?” Matt muttered to himself. “Stupid name.”

Because it’s the third attempted acquisition for the company. I need to start taking notes in pen. My notes in pencil are smudged. Am I forgetting something?

“What?” Matt’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I looked up from my notes. “Sorry?” They were both looking at me.

“What did you say?” Matt asked.

Shit. Had I just said all of that out loud? “I . . .”

“Why is this called Project Hat Trick?” he asked.

“Oh, I have no idea. I thought maybe because it’s the third time they’ve explored acquisition of this company. I didn’t realize I had—”

“Are you an athlete?” he asked.

“I was.” Though since I didn’t play a sport where you could have a hat trick, it didn’t really seem relevant.

“Where did you go to law school?” Matt asked. Was he asking me because that was a stupid or a smart thing to say?

“Um . . . Harvard?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Matt seemed entertained by watching me squirm.

I shook my head, suddenly dizzy. “Harvard.”

“Oh, that’s right. I knew that.” Matt waved me away. “You’re from a Harvard family, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t your whole family go there? I thought there was a library or something named after you guys.”

“No.” I shook my head slowly, though Matt had spoken so confidently that I found myself momentarily wondering if he was correct. “Nope. I’m the only one who went there, and I can say with some degree of certainty that we didn’t donate a library.”

Matt and Jordan looked at one another, and Matt smirked.

“Let the games begin,” Jordan muttered under his breath.

“Up?” Matt asked, pointing at Jordan.

“Nah. I’m good. I slept last night. Gonna just power through.”

“Okay!” Matt said as he turned his back to us and picked up his phone. “Thanks, guys!”

We were dismissed, and we walked down the hallway together. What the hell had just happened? My job felt like a conversation in a familiar but somehow unintelligible tongue, like Scottish.

“You did good,” Jordan said, and I looked at him, wondering where to begin.

“Skippy?” I asked.

“We think you look preppy. Like a skipper.” I looked down and smoothed my white collared shirt into my lavender skirt. “It’s a good thing. He doesn’t think anything at all about most first-years.”

I nodded. “Why does he think my whole family went to Harvard?”

“Carmen said something that we must have misunderstood. No big deal. I have to jump on a call.” He ducked into his office without another word.

Hours later, I was struggling to keep my eyes open as I scanned the minutes of a board meeting for the company Stag River was acquiring, barely knowing what I was looking for but hoping I would recognize a red flag if I saw one, when my ringing phone jolted me from my trance.

“Hi Matt!” I said, forcing cheer into my voice.

“Go home, Skip. I’m going home. I told Jordan to do the same.”

I looked at the lower right-hand corner of my monitor. It was only seven o’clock.

“Thanks, Matt. I’m just going to finish—”

“I’m not asking you.” His words were sharp, but his tone was kind. “This deal is going to blow up in a few weeks. I’ll expect you here at all hours then. For now, go home.”

He hung up before I could thank him, and I grabbed my phone and texted Sam.

On my way home! Yayayayay.

The ellipses appeared immediately. I smiled as I thought of him typing.

Yaaaaaas. Hurry!!!

I was just about to shut down my computer when something from before popped into my mind. I picked up my office phone and dialed Carmen’s extension.

“Hey!” she said quickly. “What’s up? I’m swamped.”

“I have a random question.”

“Shoot.”

“So, um, I know this is weird, but did you tell Jordan and Matt that my family donated a library to Harvard?” I cursed the apprehension in my voice.

“Yeah,” she said without a pause. There was no surprise or apology in her tone, and I could hear her still typing in the background.

“Um . . . why? It makes me sound like I couldn’t get in there on my own.”

“Oh, I just know their type, and they totally have a hard-on for that New England Ivy old-money thing. I thought I was doing you a solid.”

Her response sounded benevolent enough. It left me no option other than to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Thanks. I cleared it up with them.”

“Okay, cool. Listen, I gotta run. Are we still on for coffee tomorrow?”

“Yup!”

“Great. See you then.” She hung up.

I shook my head to shake out the bizarre conversation playing on a loop in my brain, and packed my things to go.

When I opened the door, the faint hint of humidity in the apartment indicated that Sam had just emerged from one of his marathon showers. I inhaled deeply as I made my way to the bedroom, letting the sweet floral scent of Dove soap wash over me. He poked his head out of our bathroom, towel around his waist.

“Babe! I can’t believe it. You’re rocking M&A and still making it home early!” He came over to me, leaving wet footprints as he went, and gave me a kiss as he lightly tapped my backside. Ducking back into the bathroom, he called out, “How was work? I jogged ten miles today, so I’m starving. Do you want to go out for dinner or order in?”