madly snatching up clothes, trash and takeout boxes. She’d be so embarrassed to let Neil see the way she lived. Heading to the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks. Why did it matter if Neil saw the way she lived, but not Mitch? Think about that later, Hughes.
The kitchen was a mess. She stuffed things anywhere they’d fit, cabinets, pantry, the fridge, and then cleaned all the surfaces with bacteria-killing disposable wipes.
As she cleaned, it occurred to her, it’d been over a year since she’d felt compelled to try to impress someone, to be on her best behavior. To be someone she wasn’t.
And she didn’t miss feeling that way.
She’d once met his father, stumbled over her words and ended up using profanity. Neil had said he thought it was cute, but cute only went so far before it became annoying to someone with his kind of background. She could just hear the senator talking to his colleagues. Yes, my son’s in the navy, but his date’s the one who swears like a sailor.
She cringed at the memory.
Neil didn’t know she was a world-title-holder slob. Or that she snored like a chainsaw grinding through redwood.
The doorbell rang and she jumped, her heart racing. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her hands down her jeans and went to get the door.
As soon as she swung it open, his classy cologne hit her senses. But as expensive as she knew it was, it didn’t do a thing for her. “Hey.” She smiled and offered her cheek as he bent down to hug her and kissed the corner of her mouth.
“Hi.” He wore his service dress uniform, shiny shoes, and ribbons covering his suit coat pocket. “Housewarming gift.” Bowing slightly from the waist, he presented her with an expensive bottle of wine, mimicking a maître d’ at an expensive restaurant.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” She took the wine and stepped back, gesturing him inside. “I thought I’d make tuna salad. You want a sandwich?”
“Whatever you make is great.” He followed her into the kitchen and stood at the counter while she pulled out a can of tuna.
He was taller than Mitch, broader. At five feet three inches, she felt like a dwarf next to him. He made her nervous just standing there watching her. Did he notice the awkwardness between them like she did?
“Your house is nice,” he finally said.
“Thanks. It’s just an old fixer-upper, but I like the classic fifties details, like the built-in shelf in the hallway for the phone.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, and the original wood trim along the front gable? They don’t make ’em like that anymore.” Oh, God, she was rambling. She glanced over at him and smiled.
He returned it. “Hey, can I help with anything?”
“Oh, nah. Not much to do.” She pulled mayo from the fridge. “You like celery or pickles in your tuna salad?” She wouldn’t have had to ask Mitch that. She knew already. To be fair, she’d known him longer. But she’d dated Neil almost two years. She’d slept with the man, for crying out loud. She should know how he liked his tuna.
“Either is fine.” He just stood there and watched her.
“Have a seat and tell me how the hell— How are you? You’re shipping out, huh?” She knew not to ask him where. He probably couldn’t say.
As she chopped an onion, boiled a couple of eggs and mixed everything in a bowl, he sat, crossed his legs in that upper-class elegant way of his and talked.
He kept the conversation light, filling her in on all of their mutual friends in D.C. He talked of his father and mother, and their busy lives, and told her of a lady, a young lobbyist, he’d been dating a few months.
Alex made the sandwiches, set his on a plate before him with some sliced apples and pulled out a bag of potato chips.
“This looks wonderful.” He smiled down at the food and then back up at her. “I think that’s what I’ve always liked about you. You’re so down-to-earth.” He picked up the sandwich and took a man-size bite.
She blinked. Down-to-earth? Was that code for unsophisticated? Uncouth? “Gee, you really know how to flatter a girl, Neil.”
His eyes widened and he stopped chewing. Swallowing quickly, he shook his head. “No, I— That came out wrong. I meant it as a compliment. Truly.”
Feeling bad for the poor guy, she smiled. “I know. Don’t worry about it.”
He cleared his throat, scooted back in the chair, and stood. “Restroom?”
“Uh…” She scrambled