"I want details, my friend. Details!"

I gave a half-smile as the message from Kendra continued, no doubt sprung from her flip phone during the middle of a session of a client. If she could call what she did in terms of sessions. I only hoped the voice rising from the blinking answering machine was not in reference to a boy.

Like Maser's son. It was infuriating, memories of that moment. Why hadn't I turned on full-flirting charm? Why hadn't I moved in closer and given him a whiff of the lotion I had stolen from the Salon?

"It's your first beautician job, dearest. At a fancy secretive place! You aren't working for the FBI or the CIA or another one of those fancy places with the letter doohickies, are you?"

"Not here to answer, Kendra," I sang, though I had no doubt she'd be over later, demanding some late-night shopping. Though now that I had a decent and real paycheck coming in, a good ol' shopping spree wouldn't be such a bad idea. Just do the hair of a few Disney Princesses and...

I didn't hear the rest of Kendra's message. I was going off the deep end. I was officially thinking all of this casually.

I needed a pet. That was it. I needed a cat to talk to. A feline companion, or perhaps even canine, that would make me seem all the more crazier.

It had never been like this back home. I sighed and flopped onto the couch. Smallville. Tom Welling reruns would be on soon. A pathetically small town to remind me of home and the high school out of which I had barely scraped. Only girls like that wound up as beauticians to the insane.

No television. It was too depressing. I forced myself up and into the bathroom. At least I still looked adorable. A pretty girl in her twenties with her life ahead of her. I still had it made.

And I had a job that apparently I was okay with.

Oh, boy. Kendra would have to hear about this. I expected her to drop by at any moment.

And then the knock came.

Speak of the devil. "Be there in a minute!" I added a touch of hair spray and sprang from the bathroom. "Kendra, you have to hear about--" I opened the door.

It wasn't Kendra. It was Michael, all tall and tanned and still dressed like he had just come from his shop. Outdoor spots equipment is what he sold. I had dated a guy like that. He was handsome, though. German last name and German blue eyes, but he had a paternal grandmother straight from Japan, and those sexy Asian genes were still around. An attractive mix, to say the least.

My heart pounded. I couldn't give in. He wanted the iPod back. It was the only explanation.

"Did you get my gift?" he asked. His voice made me ill.

The chocolates had been tasty. "Yes, and it was very sweet. Thanks and goodbye." I tried to slam the door, but his foot was in the way.

"Tansy, I really want to talk."

He smelled like Off.

"I can't talk," I replied. "I have... I need to get ready for work tomorrow."

"So you finally found a job." He pushed past me into the room. "Well, it will only take five minutes. I promise."

It wasn't like he had ever been horrible. I took a deep breath and shut the door. The room seemed to spin. "Five minutes. Fine."

The couch hovered behind him, practically asking him to sit down since the lady of the apartment apparently wouldn't, but Michael just stood there. "Tansy, I miss you so much."

I wasn't going to give him anything. I couldn't. I would stand by the door, cold and unfeeling, no flirtatious winks or smiles, nothing that would give him the deluded permission to hug me or kiss me or think he could return to my life.

"I can't stop thinking about you. I smell you everywhere. I see you everywhere."

Great. Michael had become a first-class obsessive since the break-up. "I'm not returning the iPod."

Then he laughed. "Oh. Okay then. You caught me. I guess I should just leave, if I can't have that back."

I coughed. That was really it? "Hang on, bud. So you didn't really miss me?"

He shrugged.

I screamed.

He laughed again.

"You are impossible!" I shouted.

"Hey, I just want my music."

"You send me flowers and chocolates for music?" The living room had become a lot smaller, so it was with incredible ease I marched over and shoved him out the door. "Idiot."

He stumbled willingly into the hall, still grinning madly. Would he never grow up? Was that too much to ask for? "So, Tansy, this is it?"

"Yes!"

"So my iPod has been given to someone else? Another man?"

"Yes." And I tossed out the first name that came into mind. "Rowan Maser, Junior." Probably should have added a fake middle name.

Michael only laughed again. I slammed the door twice.