The Rebound Guy by Farrah Rochon

the remaining slices of pizza and returned to the couch, pulling Roxie on his lap and turning on Sports Center . He picked up his cell phone and scrolled through his email, trying to ignore the adrenaline rush still coursing through him after the two hours he’d spent working on Ray’s project.
    There were other ways to get an adrenaline rush. Ways that had nothing to do with compound annual growth rates and equity derivatives.
    Dex clicked opened an email from Alena with the subject line: Potential Client? Inside were a smiley face and a link to a comment on her blog. The commenter wanted to know if The Rebound Guy had an age limit because he seemed like the perfect solution for her eighty-year-old grandmother, who had just broken up with her boyfriend in a nursing home.
    Grinning, he texted her. Ha Ha. Let me figure out my AARP discount.
    He checked the time and, deciding it wasn’t too late, pulled up his sister’s phone number. Maybe sharing some good news with Niecy would take his mind off the ache that had settled in his chest after Ray had left, taking all of his lovely spreadsheets with him.
    Denise answered on the first ring. “Hey, Pumpkin.”
    “Hi, Niecy. How’s it going?”
    “Your nephew didn’t throw a tantrum in school, so I’m counting today as a win.”
    Dex smiled at the thought of Little Myron. He needed to get down to Atlanta to see his nephew soon. “I’ve got some good news,” he said. “I should have about eight thousand dollars for you by early next week. That should buy you some breathing room with the bank.”
    “Dexter, where did you get that kind of money?” his sister screeched.
    Denise was the only family member who knew he walked dogs for a living. His parents still believed he worked on Wall Street. But no one in his family knew about his other profession. Keeping all of his lies in order was becoming a full-time job of its own.
    “I dipped into my savings,” he told her, which was at least a partial truth. After paying his monthly bills, he had withdrawn all but two thousand dollars from his checking and savings accounts to add to the five thousand dollars he would get from Asia tomorrow night. His rent was paid for the month, and his refrigerator was stocked enough to feed him for a few weeks. He’d survive.
    “Dexter, I don’t know how I will ever pay you back.”
    “As if I would let you,” he said.
    Over the years, his sister had already paid him back in so many ways, Dex had lost count. He’d never worked a side job while he was in college because Niecy had kept his pockets stuffed with spending money. When he’d first moved here, she’d helped furnish his apartment and for an entire year, sent monthly care packages with everything from her special chocolate chip cookies to his favorite kettle-style potato chips that he couldn’t find in New York.
    But none of that compared with the conversation he’d had with his sister almost two years ago that had changed his life.
    He’d just broken up with Ebony during the same time Denise’s divorce from Myron had been finalized. Dexter had been devastated by his own failed relationship, but at the same time had been concerned about his sister’s mental wellbeing. After all, Denise and Myron had been married more than a decade longer than Dex had been with Ebony.
    He’d pictured Niecy going to bed by seven p.m. and spending the entire night wallowing over the demise of her marriage. Instead, he’d learned that his sister had dived right back into the dating world, fully aware that her series of flings had served to bolster her battered ego and nothing more. His sister’s attitude toward moving forward had triggered a light bulb moment in Dex’s head. He’d realized it was a healthy—maybe even necessary—step in the healing process.
    Niecy didn’t have to worry about paying him back. She’d unknowingly given him a new career.
    “I’m going to wire the money into your checking account,” he told her. “It