I find a head and shoulders shot of Jason in his uniform. He was named player of the week.
“Who’s that?” Leah asks. “He’s cute!”
I plan to slam the laptop closed, but she’s already spotted the resemblance. “Hey! That’s Jason from Saturday.”
“It is,” I confess.
“Are you stalking him online?”
I turn to her. She looks like a ray of sunshine in a bright yellow Pokémon jacket.
“And what if I am?” I pull her close and tickle her belly, causing her to burst into giggles.
When she’s escaped me to sit on the bed, she notices the clothes laid out. “Did you buy these?”
“They’re Mom’s. I’m borrowing them.”
“Did you ask her? She might get mad.”
I shrug. Mom isn’t going to say anything about the clothes she bought with my college money.
“Are you going on a date with Jason?”
“Maybe.”
She comes up behind me again. “Then I totally approve of you stalking him. He could be an axe murderer.”
“What do you know about axe murderers?”
“I know they murder people with axes.”
I yank her tight against me. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve known Jason for a month and worked with him almost every day. He’s not an axe murderer.”
“I didn’t think so. He likes my jokes!” She drops her elbows on my desk, chin in her hands. “What have you found?”
“Not much.”
Leah peers at the screen. “He looks a lot different there.”
“He’s in high school. I can’t find anything after he graduates.”
“He probably realized social media was a waste of his time and energy.”
“When did you get so wise?”
“They teach us about these things in fourth grade.”
I power the computer down. “I guess I’ll find out more about him tonight.”
Leah returns to my bed. “Where y’all going?”
“Dinner, I think. We’re meeting at the deli then deciding.”
She sighs. “I wish I was going on a date with Jason.”
I snatch her up from the bed, sending her into another burst of giggles. “Sisters don’t take sister’s dates!”
“You better treat him right!”
“He better treat me right!” My brain flashes to the epic orgasm on the mixing table. He does that, for sure. I aim Leah for the door. “You should get a snack. Tell Mom there’s a new package of fruit bars in the pantry.”
“My favorite!”
She takes off through the apartment.
I tuck the computer in my drawer. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and we’ll skip the awkward dinner and go straight to dessert.
When I pull up in front of Austin Pickle, Jason is already there.
I’m glad I chose the black skirt and silky shirt, because Jason is dressed like he’s about to walk onto the set of a fashion show.
His black pants are creased so sharp they could cut butter. A white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearm, have just the right number of buttons undone at the throat. A textured gray vest would put a groom to shame.
His ankles are crossed as he leans against the glass, watching me park. If someone snapped a picture of him, it would be worthy of a billboard.
And he is going out with me.
My entire belly quakes.
I’m not his boss right now. It’s a date. He’ll probably take me somewhere with six forks and three spoons. I won’t know where to put my napkin or which glass to use.
It sure was a lot easier banging him in my office. Why did I agree to this?
He taps on my passenger window, his grin huge. I manage a weak smile and open my door. This part of downtown is quiet in the evenings. The office buildings are empty, and all the supporting restaurants and coffee shops close early, just like ours.
He strides around my car as I get out.
“Nova Strong, I didn’t think you could get better than pink camo and a tank top, but I do believe you have knocked my socks off.”
He bends down to brush a light kiss on my lips.
I don’t have anything to say to that, but manage a quiet, “Thanks.”
“I made a reservation for us,” he says. “My chariot or yours?”
He gestures to a gleaming black BMW a couple of spots down from my beat-up Ford.
“I’d take mine,” I say, “but I’m afraid the valet might put it out to pasture instead of parking it.”
Jason laughs. “I love driving up to fancy places in unexpected cars,” he says. “It tells me a lot about the business culture a company fosters among its employees.”
“You really are always working angles, aren’t you?”
“I think a lot about people and what makes someone friendly, or snobby, or rude.” He holds