I watched her go and realized I was sitting there in a bra and panties. It was very warm in her apartment, and Sarah didn’t seem uncomfortable with our state of undress as she puttered around the kitchen, preparing dinner. I could watch if I turned sideways on the couch and put my legs up, so I did.

“Can I help?”

She shook her damp, blonde curls. “Nope. I’m fine.”

“So…what’s the deal with you and David?” I couldn’t fathom her rejection of him.

“You can’t deny he’s a total hottie.”

“He is, isn’t he?” She smiled, stirring the pasta. “Well, for one, he’s divorced.

Hard to trust a guy who made a go of it and failed, you know?” Ouch. Harsh. But that was Sarah — no one else we worked with could stand her. I was the only one who could tolerate her caustic remarks, even when they were directed at me.

“And, well…he works for me.” Sarah shrugged, putting something together in another pot. “And you know how Don harps about work relationships.”

“What about Chad and Lynn?” I snorted, knowing Don, our “big boss,” looked the other way a lot. “They’re permanently lip-locked and they work together.”

“Oh, them!” She waved a dismissing hand over the pasta pot as she blew on it, keeping it from bubbling over. “They’re on the same level, you know? It’s just not comparable.”

I sipped at my wine, which was almost gone and Sarah came to refill it.

“Hey!” I laughed. The fire was warming me outside, and the wine was warming me inside. I felt flushed. “You trying to get me drunk?”

“Might do you some good.” She tipped the bottle a little further, filling my glass almost to the top. I just rolled my eyes, watching her refill her own glass and set the wine on the counter.

“I don’t need to get drunk,” I mumbled into my glass.

“No?” Sarah licked wine off her lips and turned to stir the pasta. The sauce pot next to it had come to a slow-motion boil, splattering red sauce on the white glass surface of the stove. “I think you need something like it.”