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“I better not be in that visual.”

“Ew, gross. No, it’s Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds.”

“The Proposal. Solid choice.”

Willa shakes her head. “Enough of that. Back to you.”

“No, really. Keep fantasizing about the characters in an oughties rom-com.”

“Hey.” Willa reaches out and takes my hand. “I’m happy for you. Shocked as hell you picked up a stranger and slept with them, but happy, too. You’re a smokeshow, Auds. Denver lesbians are going to be lining up to date you.”

“A smokeshow? What is that, like a vaping convention?”

Willa rolls her eyes. “Use your context clues to figure it out.”

“Oh, you’re calling me hot, as in sexy.”

“Yes.”

“Which means you’re calling yourself hot and sexy, too.”

Willa straightens and shrugs her shoulders, lifting her wine glass to her lips, and grins. “It’s a truth universally acknowledged.”

“When are you going to get back out there?”

She sets her wine glass down with a solid click. “You mean picking up strange women for a one-night stand at the Dew Drop Inn? Never.”

I open my mouth to clarify, but Willa cuts me off. “I don’t want to talk about this, Auds. OK? I’m fine. I don’t need a man to make me happy.”

“I know that.”

“Then stop pushing me to get back out there. I’m having better sex with my bullet vibe and lesbian porn than I ever had with a man. And this is hardly a good time to try to date. We start our first project Monday, remember?”

I finish off my wine and hold out my glass. “Top me up.”

Willa pours more for both of us. “Greta Giordani texted me tonight,” she says.

“Why? Everything OK?”

“Well, it’s Black Friday. Their website was at a crawl and they’d sold out of their bestsellers by noon. They gave out a ton of discount codes to keep the customers happy.”

“Waste of money. Fourteener gear is hot right now.”

“Even hotter now they’re going to have a shortage going into Christmas.”

I touch the tip of my nose in agreement. “A private, family-owned company. American made. People will pay full price. Hell, they ought to raise their prices.”

“Greta wants to send out a newsletter on Monday, apologizing for the inconvenience and talking about the future.”

“Good idea.”

“It’s going to be full on for a while.” Willa raises the empty wine bottle and shakes it. “If we’re going to get drunk, tonight’s the night.”

“None for me. I’m exhausted.”

“I bet.” Willa picks up our glasses and puts them in the sink. “Don’t forget about our appointment with Johan tomorrow morning.”

“I remember.” I run my hands through my hair.