Aaron’s now Fidelity’s Associate Vice President for Finance, someone with whom it’s good to be acquainted if you’re a Fidelity CPA. Actually, we’re both CPAs, hired at the same time, but Aaron’s the one destined for a corporate future.

Back when the two of us hired on, we’d even dated, but as he started his climb, there at the front desk sat Evelyn, freshening her nails. They may be married, but everyone knows she’s still on the prowl.

I moved on as well. Perhaps not really “on,” but toward accounting challenges for which I needn’t dress up as much as the front-desk girls. I get paid a lot more, however, so hah!

Aaron and I still work together on tax management, but it’s not a bond that extends beyond the spreadsheets. Again sharing the other kind of sheets would just derail more of my life.

Aaron being a typical male, however, I wasn’t surprised by his, “Hey, Lilly. Want to help me out at the Horizon Meeting in San Diego?”

Give me a break, buddy!

I could have predicted the spiel as we were leaving the presentation about Fidelity’s medium-range goals in the real estate market. “Lilly, you must be exhausted, all those notes you were taking. Why don’t we go up and see what’s on TV? My room’s got the special channels.” Actually, I’m just making that last line up, as he wouldn’t watch that stuff with me around. He’s not a creep; he’s just clueless.

I was gracious in declining, citing a target date for another Fidelity asset write-off. When he upped the ante by mentioning a restaurant, I still said I couldn’t.

We’d have had fun running up the Fidelity credit card and I’d have gotten my revenge on Evelyn. For sure I could have used some sex.

I love to shop at Sister Song. I’d save 15 percent by volunteering, but an hour of my billable is worth more than the bookstore’s daily net. It’s fun to browse the new books and they don’t think less of me because I wear nylons.

What caught my eye on the Sisters Unite! Shareboard was the flier -- “With Lilith, we rise! Sister Circle.”

Rosie, the girl -- I mean “woman” -- manning -- hey, gals, another linguistic problem -- the counter, noticed my interest. “It’s about our Goddess Lilith, I’ll tell Trish you’re interested.”

As you can’t just inform a feminist bookstore volunteer you’re not interested in goddesses, I gave her my business card when she asked for a phone number.

“And you’re even named Lilith! This isn’t just a coincidence.”

“Actually, I’m just Lilly. Two L’s.”

“Same thing,” and then noting my credential. “Way to go, girl!! We gotta’ manage our finances to break the bondage.”

Trish -- last name apparently unnecessary -- called the next day and said that they were also learning to knit and she had a ton of extra maroon. As I’ve an olive complexion, it seemed like another positive.

I just hoped they didn’t burn incense.

I went and discovered that Trish is a 9 to 5 actuary, and they entirely agreed about me and maroon. Tanya, an astrological consultant, showed me how to keep my stitches more even.

Thursday evenings are now the highlight of my week.

As for the significance of Lilith to post-patriarchal femininity, there are books at Sister Song.

Lilith was born out of the same dust as was Adam, but as she objected to being on the bottom, she escaped Eden and set herself up in a cave by the Red Sea. When Adam complained he’d been abandoned, God made him an Eve more suited to being walked all over.

Lilith, however, is still around, bearing 100 demon children per day without need for a mate. As Lilith kills boys in the eight days before circumcision, Semitic mothers protect their newborn sons with an amulet.

Apart from Zoe who sports such an amulet, the rest of us questioned how she gets pregnant without a partner, much less handles that many deliveries.

The clue regarding her conceptions is found in “Lilith,” a saga written in ancient times.

Of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, it is told

The witch he loved before the gift of Eve

And still she sits, young while the earth is old,

And, subtly of herself contemplative,

Draws men to watch the bright net she can weave,

Till heart and body and life are in its hold.

Lilith, it seems, purloins what she needs from masturbating males. Her name in fact stems from “laylah,” Hebrew for “night,” when she harvests the precious ingredient.

Some of us weren’t that great at knitting, but we backcrossed and cabled, pearled and twisted with Lilith-inspired determination. Most of us, however, were in fact tiring of feminist apologetics.

Let’s have a project, Bren suggested, maybe something like opposing Asian sex trafficking.

Noah, thought Celeste. Let’s just do something to have some fun.

“How about let’s do something like Lilith.” from Sondra, who we’d encouraged to be more assertive.

“And always be pregnant?” asked someone. ‘Don’t think so.”

“No, we’ll just collect her precious ingredient.”

We looked at each other. A feminist challenge!

Next week, Zoe arrived with a Ziploc. “Russ is totally obedient. I said we’ll freeze it in case he has a motorcycle accident.”

The week following, Tanya displayed a test tube. She’d stashed in her bathroom to scoop up what ended up on her when she informed her sweetheart he’d stopped taking the pill.

Probably I could have better picked my donor, but the Lilith challenge wasn’t going to last forever.

Evelyn was Aaron’s problem, not mine. While he’d be providing me the ingredient, she’d probably be asking her trainer to check her for a hamstring and they’d be on the massage table as soon as he could peel off her spandex.

When I asked Aaron if helping him out in California was still a possibility -- “if our hotel’s where we can see the ocean” -- he assured me that he would book the best.

“If I dress up a little, it’s to make Fidelity look classy, OK?” which seemed to please him. “And I know how touchy Evelyn can get, so maybe she doesn’t have to know who’s helping you out,” which seemed to please him even more.

Not to my surprise, Aaron and I were on the same floor.

It was nice to have time to try out the health facility, pretending not to notice him ogling me, and me letting him catch me eying his gym shorts.

We went over the presentation and had an Indonesian dinner. I hadn’t a clue what they eat over there. Still don’t.

Walking along the beach, I took his arm, nothing that any other beach-goer would even notice, but I could tell his arm noticed me.

Back at the hotel, it was “Lilly?” in the elevator.

Here it comes.

“Want some ice cream or something?” at least more original than suggesting champagne.

“Think they’ll have peppermint?” following him into his room.

Room service charged $4.49 a scoop, but Fidelity gets the bill. “Brushing up for tomorrow,” he’ll explain if audited.

As I indeed wanted all to go well tomorrow. I kicked off my shoes, curled up on a chair and made him rehearse the bar graphs.

Once we’d wrapped up the presentation, however, it was, “You can just stay here, Lilly,” straight to the point. Fidelity books two rooms, but everybody knows that just one bed gets used.