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“Sure,” I say. I make a great French toast. It’s second only to my omelet.

The gym is only a block from my place in the opposite direction to Deacon’s. We’ve both lived in this area since we came to New York after university. Deacon didn’t have a plan and neither did I, but we both knew we would make it. By any measure, we have. Even though our lives are different—he’s a father and now engaged, and I’m incredibly single—we have more in common than we have differences.

On the way back to my apartment, we talk about nothing but exercise and running and whether Deacon should enter an Ironman because his fiancée, Aurora, is pregnant. But as soon as I drop my unused gym bag onto the bench in my hallway, things shift.

“Look, I’m going to tell Aurora that I saw you today, and she’s going to ask me if you said anything about Avril.” He follows me into the kitchen.

“And you can tell her I deflected.” I wash my hands at the sink and tie an apron around my waist.

“Right,” he says. “And then she’s going to ask me to text you right in front of her to ask you about Avril.”

“Why is she so invested?” Has Avril said something to Aurora? It doesn’t seem her style. I know Avril and Aurora are friends, but I’m not sure Avril would be chatting giddily about the guy she banged after a party. She’s much more likely to arrange a group torture of my effigy.

“I don’t know,” Deacon says.

I start whisking the eggs with a fork and pull out some bread. “Just tell her I didn’t say anything and that I arrived late and we chatted briefly about the Ironman.”

“Right,” he says. “Now we’ve got our story straight, and I’ve figured out how to lie to my soon-to-be wife, did you bang Avril?”

I chuckle and put the pan on the hob. “Okay, can we get back to the French toast? I need your take on something.”

Deacon shakes his head at my further deflection, but he doesn’t disagree.

“I met a woman recently,” I go on. He’ll catch up sooner or later. “And I like her. All good. Except she’s…hmm. I’m not quite sure if she’s just not into me, or if she’s playing hard to get.”

“Right.” I can see the grin that Deacon’s trying to hold back and I’m appreciative of his efforts.

“And I was wondering whether or not I should pursue it. Is it worth the energy? Or should I just move on? There are plenty of beautiful women in this city, right?”

“Right,” Deacon says. “How often have you given a woman a second thought if you don’t think they’re interested?”

I dunk the bread into the seasoned egg mixture. “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but I can’t remember the last time I showed a woman some attention and didn’t get an effusive response.”

Deacon laughs. “An effusive response?”

“You know what I mean. I don’t have to chase women. I’m never left wondering whether a woman likes me.”

“I get it. I think the key is to figure out whether you’re intrigued by this woman because she’s not on board with the charming thing you do, or whether you like her because you like her.”

It’s a good point. Has Avril occupied my thoughts so much since she left yesterday morning because she didn’t want to give me her number and she kicked me out of my own bed? Is it just the challenge of her that I’m drawn to?

That’s got to be part of the attraction. The favorite deals have always been the ones that took the most effort. The ones I thought would never go through, that I spent weeks on calls through the night trying to put together. The rewards are so much sweeter when they’re hard won. There’s no doubt about that.

The attraction I have to Avril has got to be mixed up in how completely unbothered she is by my interest in her.

The great sex doesn’t hurt either. Saturday night was incredible. Despite being so feisty and combative outside of the bedroom, she was deliciously compliant inside the bedroom. And she seemed to know exactly how to touch me, and when, to drive me absolutely crazy. She was possibly the best sex I’ve ever had, so no doubt my dick is trying to weigh in on my thoughts.

But she’s also really funny. And sexy. And cool in that way that she just doesn’t give a fuck what people think about her. And I like that she’s got so much going on in her own life. She’s co-owner of a hotel, not some spoiled trust-fund baby. There are so many women in New York who think a hard day is not being able to have a driver idle outside Chanel because of the parking restrictions. Avril is real.

“I think it’s both,” I say. But the reason she’s not so easily charmed is what I like about her. She knows her own worth, has a thousand things to prioritize besides who’s in her bed, yet she’s up for a good time. What’s not to like?

“Just be careful. If it’s really about the chase, that’s what could cause problems. Because if you catch her, then what?”

I nod. “You’re right. I need to not be a dick.” Even though my job is to get what I want for me and my clients, I don’t want it to be like that with Avril. Getting what I want from her shouldn’t be the challenge.

“That’s a good rule of life generally,” he says.

“Right. There are enough dicks in the world. We don’t need to add to the list.”