“Holy s**t,” I laughed and sipped my coffee. “Seriously?”
“What?”
I looked up from my laptop at Greer. “I just opened an email from that investment firm I interviewed at a couple of days ago, the one Kitty’s grandson owns. You know, the guy who basically told me I was incompetent.”
“The hot one whose sperm I want?”
I nodded. “That’s him.”
“What did the email say? Does he need me to drop off a sterile collection jar?”
“No, this is even crazier. They offered me the job.”
“Oh, wow! That’s great!”
I nibbled on my fingernail. “Is it? Do I really want to work somewhere that the big boss doesn’t believe the job needs to exist, or that I’m able to fill it properly?”
“That depends. What does it pay? And can you negotiate for extra vacation time and a side order of sperm?”
I turned back to
