no, she can’t leave a toothbrush in your bathroom. Or have a few inches of a drawer. That’s too pushy, that’s too much. Why not just leave the money on the dresser and call it what it is?”
“Whoa. That’s not what I—”
“Why should she be comfortable, why should she expect you to make any room in your life for her needs? God forbid she should infringe on your precious time, your sacred space. Pathetic,” she said. “Both of you.” And stormed out.
Jack stared at the empty doorway. “What was that? Why is she so pissed off at me?”
“It’s me. It started with me.”
“Next time warn me so I can dodge the ricochets. Is she . . . seeing someone who’s giving her trouble?”
“No. She’s not seeing anyone special. I am, and she’s frustrated because she thinks I don’t appreciate it—him—enough. She’s wrong. I do. But she’s right in that my thought process takes the same downward spiral you just outlined. And actually, she’s right. It is pathetic.”
“It’s not a downward spiral, necessarily. Maybe you want the yogurt or the antiquing. It depends.”
“On what?”
“Who’s leaving their stuff in your drawer. Got any beer?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go have a beer. I’ll sketch something out. If you like it, I’ll have the guy I know come over and measure, knock it out.”
“That’s worth a beer.”
“So, you and Carter Maguire.”
“Me and Carter Maguire,” she said as they started down. “Is it weird?”
“Why would it be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe since we sort of knew each other in high school when I was going through my artistic free spirit phase and he was a nerd. And he was tutoring Del when I had my obligatory crush on Del.”
“You had a crush on Del?”
“Obligatory five-minute one,” she repeated as she got out the beer. “In fact, I think it only lasted three. Emma made the five.”
“Emma had . . . hmm.”
“And my attention sort of skimmed over him. Carter, I mean. The oh, there’s that guy, the smart one. Then fast-forward to now, and it’s like oh, there’s that guy! Funny.”
“It looks good on you.”
“Feels good, most of the time.” She handed him the beer, tapped hers to it. “When it’s not scary. I’ve never been in love before. In lust, in serious like, but love’s a whole new level of good and scary. He’s got a school thing tonight, which is another strange and funny thing. Me, falling for a teacher. The PhD. I’m the only one of us who didn’t go to college. Photography courses, business courses, but not the dorms and campus and the whole shot. And I’m wrapped up in a guy who grades term papers, gives homework, leads discussions on Shakespeare.
“You’d make more sense, come to think of it.”
“Me?” Jack blinked at her. “I would?”
“No need to wear the panic face. I’m just saying you’d be a more logical choice. We both think in images, in concepts. We need to visualize to create. We both run our own businesses, work with clients. We have divorced parents and half sibs, though your parents are really nice. We have a close circle of mutual friends, are commitment phobic. And we like the occasional beer.
“Plus,” she realized, “our names rhyme.”
“You’re right. Let’s go have sex.”
She laughed. “Missed that boat.”
“I guess we did.”
Amused at both of them, she tipped up her beer. “You never made the move.”
“If I’d made the move, Del would’ve beaten me to death with a shovel. Nobody messes with his girls.”
“He does know we’ve all had sex.”
“He prefers to pretend otherwise, but none of you have had sex with me. To my misfortune. That’s key.”
“I guess you’re right about that. Besides, while logically we may seem suited, we’d end up fighting over drawer space and hating each other. Carter makes room. He’s got the innate ability to open up and accept.”
“Got the starry eyes on you,” Jack commented. “So how does it work? Who takes the wedding photographer’s pictures when she walks down the aisle?”
“Aisle?” She choked on her beer. “I never said anything about aisle. I’m not—we’re not. What makes you think we’re thinking about getting married? Where’d that come from?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He swiveled on his stool, gestured at the walls lined with wedding photos. “Being surrounded maybe, added to the starry eyes.”
“That’s business. Those are business. Just because I think about weddings doesn’t mean I’m thinking about a wedding.”
“Okay, no need to go to Crazytown.”
“I’m not. I’m just—” She sucked in a breath. Marching to her desk, she came back