Why don't you Stay ... Forever - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,20
But I get you. You don’t want her to stop.” He sobers. “I have to tell you though, you don’t want to lavish too much attention on her. Don’t come off as needy. You want her chasing you.”
I eye him doubtfully. “This works for you, does it?”
“Well enough. But why are you so worried? You’ve had girlfriends before.”
“Not like this.” No woman in my life—the few that have been in my life—can compare.
“True. Erin’s a class act. Not that your other girlfriends weren’t,” Austin adds hastily. “There was Debra in high school …”
“Now married to a rich property developer.”
“And Jean in college—your lab partner, right?”
“Traveling the world as a photojournalist. Gave up computers for the road.”
“Hmm.” Austin leans back against his desk, hands supporting him. “I can see your problem. Great women, but they pick someone or something else over you.”
“Yeah, that’s how I roll.”
“Don’t be gloomy. I saw how Erin smiled at you. All right—what does she like to do?”
“Dance.” I warm inside. “I went to her show this weekend. Twice. She’s amazing.”
I must look seriously impressed, because Austin grins at me. “What else?”
“As far as I know, she dances and she works here. If Erin ever has to choose between dance and our business, she’ll blow us off so fast we won’t know what happened.”
Austin watches me closely. “Something else is bugging you, because you know you can still be with her even if she chooses not to work for us. What?”
I don’t want to dump my doubts on him, but heave a sigh. “All right, there’s this guy. Her ex. Good-looking, apparently a great dancer, used to live with her. Erin says she’s done with him, and he is kind of a dick, but—” I spread my arms. “Then there’s me. The gawky guy who forgets to comb his hair. I spend all day in my den. What the hell do I have to offer a woman like Erin?” I drop my hands to my sides. “You gotta help me, bro.”
Chapter Seven
Erin
“So, tell me all about Ben.” Ida, my partner in crime in Clarice’s dance company eyes me over her latte.
“What about him?” I’m suddenly reluctant. “You met him.”
We’ve been talking about everything but Ben—how the performances went this weekend, what Ida heard about Clarice’s idea for a new show in the fall, and Reuben’s sudden and annoying return. Nothing about Ben.
“I met him really briefly.” Ida leans forward, risking smearing whipped cream on a deep blue shirt that matches her eyes. “Then he drove you home, leaving me high and dry.” Ida laughs, clearly not put out. “And then …” She waggles her brows.
“Then what? Why are you so nosy all of the sudden?”
“Why are you so bashful all of the sudden? I’m interested. Mostly because a) he’s cute, and b) I haven’t seen you this happy in a while. I like this new, bubbly Erin.”
“Bubbly?” My face is scalding enough to heat the coffee. “I hope I’m not bubbly.”
“Effervescent, then. You danced so well on Saturday night, it was like you were born for the part. Dean couldn’t shut up about how well you did. So when we went to Freida’s after the party, we threw him into her pool.”
I burst out laughing. I hadn’t known that. “He never said a word.”
“He loved it. Dean swims like a fish. He pretended to need help out, then started pulling other people in with him. Anyway, I wondered where you’d suddenly obtained this sparkle. When I saw you with Ben again yesterday—I knew.”
“We’re not a couple,” I say quickly.
“Sure. Because why else would he run interference with Reuben and wait to escort you out, like a gentleman? If you’re not a couple, you’re close to it.”
Ida has been there for me through it all—my first terrified rehearsals and shows with the company, my infatuation with and then disappointment in Reuben, the breakup, the house makeover, the bad jobs I’ve had with the temp agency, the great job I was sent to with the McLaughlins, and worry about taking over the lead part this weekend. I owe her the truth, but I’m reluctant, mostly because I don’t know what the truth is.
“All right, all right.” I let my voice go low, so the guys in ties having lunch at the next table don’t hear all about my love life. “We did have Saturday night together. And Sunday morning. And Sunday afternoon …”
Ida’s mouth is open, her eyes wide with delight. “Seriously? Wow, the best friend is the last