Kyle had to give her credit; it took skill—plus no heart and a serious abuse of the English language— to break up with someone in fewer than 140 characters.

Well, at least I’m not a stubborn, button-pushing, Prius-driving, chip-on-your-shoulder-holding, ‘stay-at-home-mom’-is-the-eighth-dirty-word-thinking feminazi!

His eyes held hers. “Because I knew, ten seconds after walking into this office and meeting you, that we had this in the bag.

I don’t mind hot and spicy. Actually find that appealing in a girl … And chicken wings.” Rylann turned her head and stared at him. “Did you really just compare me to chicken wings?” “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Chicken wings are the bomb.

I realized that the one person who could break my heart is the only one who should have it.

It’s because your subconscious finds my subconscious irresistible.

In the business world, what’s the female equivalent of going golfing with a client?” Laney gave this some thought. Payton fell silent, too, contemplating. After a few moments, neither of them could come up with anything. How depressing. Payton sighed, feigning resignation. “Well, that’s it. I guess I’ll just have to sleep with them.” Laney folded her hands primly on the table. “I think I’m uncomfortable with this conversation.