Page 88 of The Reluctant Roommate

“Good luck.”

Morgan moved away and leaned against the bar for a moment, watching Sally in the mirror. What was the best approach? The suits finished their conversation, and the space around Sally opened up again. What would Heidi do? The answer was obvious. Heidi would be herself: direct, unapologetic, no pretense.

Morgan wandered across the room to where Sally sat. “Hello, Sally. We’ve never met, but I know who you are. Welcome to Denver.”

Sally inclined her head. “Then you have the advantage, as I’m afraid I don’t know you. I’m happy for that to change, though. Please, sit if you’d like.”

Morgan sat and extended her hand. “Morgan Favola.”

Sally’s grip was strong but brief. “Sally Acuna. But you already know that. This is my first time at one of these meetings. I like to sit back and watch for a while. Observe.”

“And what have you observed?”

Sally turned dark-brown eyes on her. “The usual cliques, although most people seem to be at least on nodding terms. What about you? Are you new here? You seem to know relatively few people too.”

“It’s my first time back in a few months. I’ve been on a career break.”

“Ah,” Sally said. “That would do it. I notice there’s a disproportionate number of men here tonight. This being anevening meeting, I suspect many of our female colleagues are at home getting dinner and putting the kids to bed.”

“But not you. Or me.”

“My husband is very evolved. He’s dealing with the kids alone tonight. It’ll be my turn later in the week when he goes to the Chamber of Commerce meeting. The rest of the time, we share. What about you?”

“No partner, no kids,” Morgan said. “Although I’m working on the first.”

Sally’s smile flashed. “I’m glad. I hope they’re a good one.”

“What brings you to Denver?” Morgan asked. “No. Scrap that. I know—or at least, someone mentioned you’ve moved here to set up business after relocating from California.”

“Thank you for not pretending,” Sally said with an infectious smile. “Your source is right. I’m scouting for premises and looking to hang my shingle out. Tell me, if you were me, where would you look?”

It was a test, Morgan realized. She would bet her Altima that Sally already had a good idea of where she wanted to be. She wanted to see how much Morgan knew about her business model.

“The standard answer would be downtown or the upper part of Broadway,” she said. “That’s where a lot of financial firms are located. But with your focus on female clients, I would consider more suburban locations. Somewhere busy, but not downtown where parking is tight. Somewhere with good access to the Regional Transportation District.”

“Downtown is well served by the RTD,” Sally said.

“Still, it’s difficult to get there with a couple of kids in tow. And while many financial companies are in LoDo, they’re not your target clients. The average woman—and man—on the street is. And for them, getting there at lunchtime or during a break inthe day is easier if it’s not to downtown. I’d suggest somewhere relatively central still… Say Sloane’s Lake or Cherry Creek.”

Sally smiled slightly. “We’re about to close on a house in Congress Park. I’ve actually been looking at premises in Cherry Creek or Glendale.”

“Great areas,” Morgan said. “I’m in West Washington Park, and I love it there. It has a very strong local community.” Not that she’d participated much, but that was slowly changing.

“Are you returning to the same firm after your career break?”

Morgan took a deep breath. This question was inevitable, and, for most people, not a spiky one.No evasions. No half-truths.“No. I was with Mattingley, but I was fired. I took a break to regroup, and I’m now ready to start afresh with a different firm.”

Sally’s eyes sharpened, but she leaned back in her chair with a slight smile. “Why were you fired? Were they restructuring?”

She knows.Sally had probably known since Morgan had given her name. This was a test. She lifted her chin and met Sally’s eyes. “I made a mistake—a major one. The only mistake after seven years of exemplary performance. Advisor of the year a couple of times. The client—one of Mattingley’s largest—demanded I be fired or she’d take her business elsewhere. So they fired me.”

“Why did you screw up?”

Again, notwhatdid you screw up. “It was the last transaction before I left in the evening after an eleven-hour day. I was tired. I should have used better judgment and left the transaction until the morning.”

“I’m surprised there’s not more errors due to fatigue in our industry,” Sally said. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“You knew, didn’t you?” Morgan held her gaze.