“Yeah, right.” Kristen scrounged in her purse for her keys and, once the huge ring was found, headed for the door. Sabrina joined her as she wended her way through the labyrinthine desks, tables, and chairs of the Clarion’s newsroom. It had been her first job out of college, the one she thought she’d use as a stepping stone to bigger and brighter newspapers. Though her position had changed over the years-stretching, evolving, mutating-it said something she wasn’t sure she wanted to examine that she was still here.

“You should go out,” Sabrina, all big brown eyes, cornrows, and metal jewelry, insisted. “Find a guy. Have some fun.”

“I’m married, remember?”

“You’re separated, have been for a year, and last I heard, you were going to divorce Ross’s ass.” Sabrina arched a perfect eyebrow.

“I know, I know. It’s just hard.”

“Nuh-uh. I’ve done it three times.”

“Maybe it’ll get easier after the first one.”

“You’ll never know unless you try.” Sabrina stopped at the hallway leading to the restrooms.

“I’ve got a kid,” Kristen reminded her.

“Who’s nearly grown.”

Kristen snorted. “Sixteen does not an adult make.”’

“You tell her that?”

“Every day. Besides, I do happen to have a date tonight, only it’s with half a dozen women I haven’t seen in twenty years. I got drafted into heading the damned high-school reunion.”

“No way.”

“Drafted,” Kristen stressed. “I didn’t volunteer.”

Sabrina wrinkled her long nose. “Can’t you go AWOL?”

“I’m hoping to pawn the duties off on someone more deserving tonight.”

“Good luck.” Sabrina laughed and moseyed down the hall.

Kristen shoved open the glass doors of the newspaper offices and a blast of frigid air, smelling of the river and exhaust, rolled toward her. Dark clouds gathered over the spires of Portland’s highest buildings, and as she hurried the two blocks to the parking lot where her beat-up Honda was waiting, the sky opened up. Flipping up the hood of her jacket, Kristen made a mad dash to her Honda. The car looked as tired as she felt, and the fun was just beginning.