New York, Actually: A sparkling romantic comedy from the bestselling Queen of Romance. Sarah Morgan

there something personal going on here I should know about?”

      “No.”

      “We’ve worked together for five years and I’m old enough to be your mother. Despite your claim to being heartless, we both know you’re not. You helped me when I was at my lowest point and I hope you know you can always talk to me in confidence.”

      “There’s nothing I need to talk about. And you are nothing like my mother.” Realizing he’d said too much, Daniel dragged his hand over the back of his neck and hauled his feelings back inside. He didn’t want to think about his mother. He’d long since come to terms with what had happened. He’d been a kid, for goodness’ sake. He’d done what he could. And he’d helped numerous women since then. More than he could count. “Emotion is what brings people streaming into my office. If more people engaged their brains instead of their hormones, the divorce rate would be lower.”

      “And you wouldn’t be earning millions.”

      “I know you don’t believe me, but the money has always been secondary.” Trying to distract himself, he scanned a few more questions on the site, fascinated and appalled. “Real-life people actually write in asking her this stuff? They can’t figure it out for themselves?” He tried to imagine what sort of person would be comfortable exposing such intimate, private secrets in such a public forum.

      Marsha looked amused. “Have you ever asked advice about women?”

      “I already know everything I need to know about women, including the fact that this woman is exploiting people who are emotionally vulnerable.” Daniel flipped the screen shut and caught a glimpse of Marsha’s expression. “What?”

      “Please tell me you see the irony of that. You’re the divorce attorney everyone hopes their spouse won’t hire.”