Lydia was still pacing my living room like she was the CEO of my life and I was an intern she was disappointed in. Her heels clicked like a clock counting down to my humiliation.

“Stephano,” she sighed for the fifteenth time, “I swear, if this blows up tomorrow, I’m the one who will have to deal with the PR nightmare. Do you even understand how messy this is?”

“Lydia,” I said slowly, “if I hear the words ‘nightmare’ or ‘messy’ one more time, I’m throwing you out.”

She didn’t flinch. “Then who will clean up your disaster? Certainly not you.”

I inhaled sharply. “You’re unbelievably irritating.”

“And you’re unbelievably...