"What's wrong with you this week?" Morgan asks. "You seem distracted."

She's brought me the supply list for her upcoming classes, and I've spent the last five minutes trying to find the master list on the computer. I can't remember the damned file name.

"I'm fine," I assure her, but Morgan's too astute for that. She plunks down in the chair across from me and props her elbow on my desk.

"Trouble with Mr. Hunky McBillionaire?"

As promised, I ...