“Have some more dal.” Danny handed her the spoon and she scraped the bottom of the bowl.

“And then there was Quentin . . .”

“I don’t like him already,” Danny said. “What kind of dude is named Quentin?”

“A philosophy professor who broke up with me after three months by writing me a letter. He said in philosophical terms we were fundamentally incompatible. He said he was Sartre, who believed in contingent love affairs, and I was Kierkegaard, who believed in committed relationships.”

“He cheated on you.”

“Philosophically speaking.” She shoved the last spoon of dal into her mouth. Her stomach gurgled in protest. “Then there was Chris.” She sighed. “He broke up with me but he couldn’t say why because he was crying so much. Then every few months he would show up and ask me to—”

“They don’t sound like good dudes,” Danny interrupted. “Did you really love them?”

“I thought I did.” She hesitated. “I wanted to. But now that I know how real love feels, no, I didn’t love them at all.”

“I think love is overrated.” He put his arm around her and gave her a friendly hug. She hadn’t noticed before how good he smelled, like burned roti and mango pickle.

“You know what you need to take your mind off Sam?”

“Gulab jamun? Maybe I need sweets.”

“A massage.” His hand moved down her back, rubbing small circles over her spine. “Is this okay?”

So relaxing. If her stomach hadn’t been so bloated from all the dal, she would have asked him to massage her while she lay on a table. “Yes.” She sighed. “Feels nice.”

“I can make you feel so good, you won’t feel bad anymore.” His hand slipped lower to the curve of her rear. Back massages were good. Bottom massages by fuckboys, not so much unless she had sunk so low she wanted to go down this road.

“I don’t like feeling bad,” she said, considering. “It makes my stomach hurt.”

“You won’t have to feel bad anymore.” Danny pulled her to her feet. “My girlfriend is out of town so I am all about your pleasure, baby. I want to see that beautiful smile.”

“Sure. Why not?” If this was her life from now on, she might as well get started and learn to enjoy random hookups with fobby fuckboys in closed restaurants and behind the hedges at weddings where she would always be the bridesmaid and never the bride.

“Sweet.” He grinned, flashing a golden tooth. “Why don’t we go into the back office and I’ll make you forget about Chris and Quentin and Adam and Morgan and Jonas and—”

“Sam.” Her voice hitched. “I want to forget about Sam. I want to forget about how he made me laugh, and how good-looking he is, and how he was so protective every time I met a new guy, and how sweet he is with his sister, and how irritating he was in the office when he stole my desk and organized my pencils, and how I never thought I’d love an A’s fan, but I do. And yet, he’s no better than any of the other guys who broke my heart.”

Danny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, his thick erection pressing up against her belly. “I’ve got all the love you need right here.”

Layla’s stomach protested the pressure with a loud gurgle. “Oops. I think you were right about the dal.”

“That’s okay, babe.” He squeezed her tighter, his fingers digging like little claws into her rear. “I won’t hear anything over your moans of pleasure.”

“Maybe don’t squeeze so hard.” She tried to pull away and relieve the pressure.

“I want you to feel what you do to me, how much I want your sexy ex-con ass.” He pulled her tighter, ground his hips against hers.

Bile rose in her throat. Her mouth started to water, and not in a good way. “Actually, I’m feeling something else . . . Maybe you should . . .”

With a huge shove, she pushed him away, just before her stomach heaved the contents of her night of self-indulgence all over the tile floor.

“Oh God.” She fell to her knees and vomited again. “Every time I think that’s the end, I discover a new level of hell.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got an extra toothbrush.”

She heaved again.

“Maybe not.” He checked his watch. “Look at the time. I’ve got to meet someone . . . somewhere. You good to close up?”

“Sure.” She collapsed on the floor, disgusted by how pathetic she had become. If even Danny was running away, she had hit rock bottom. She had to accept that it was all over—the game, the office, the business, and Sam.

• 23 •

“I’M sorry. GenSys Medical has decided to terminate your employment effective today.”

Sam couldn’t muster more than a sympathetic nod for the dude on the other side of the table. He was a bastard not even his best friend would stand by. Might as well live up to his reputation.

“No.” Jordan thudded the table with a meaty fist. “There must be some mistake. Check again.” At six feet, four inches tall and weighing at least 280 pounds, Jordan looked more like a professional wrestler than a genetic research scientist with two Ph.D.’s who had spent the last fifteen years in a windowless laboratory.

Claire Watson, GenSys’s HR manager, didn’t even blink at his outburst. Karen was cold and hard, but Claire took it to a whole new level. She had an app that allowed her to track employee reactions and so far she’d earned nineteen stars for eliciting tears.

“One more for the win,” she whispered to Sam before giving Jordan the details of his termination package.

“You’ve got no fucking heart.” Jordan followed Sam to the door where two security guards were waiting to escort him off the premises. Usually, Sam hated same-day terminations for their sheer brutality, but today, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You’ve got no soul,” Jordan continued. “How can you do this to good, honest, hardworking people? What did I ever do to you? This isn’t right.”

Sam flinched inwardly, hearing Nasir’s voice instead of Jordan’s. What had the Patels ever done to him? When had he stopped feeling sympathy for the people whose lives he had to destroy? Was John right? Had he truly become the monster he’d been hunting? Was he no better than Ranjeet?

“It’s not personal,” he said, more to convince himself than the distraught man beside him. “Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. If we didn’t let some people go, no one would have a job.”