This Changes Everything by Jennifer Ashley Page 0,29

lunch because I figure she’ll want to eat her lunch. I wait until she’s home, in casual shorts and tank top, relaxing with a glass of wine, and then I call. I know that’s where she’ll be, because I’ve asked her to tell me what she likes to do after work, how she unwinds, what she’s wearing ...

Okay, maybe I am stalking her.

I start texting her after I think this, warning her I’ll call, so she has the chance not to answer.

She always texts back saying she’s looking forward to it.

We don’t make any plans. No dates or hook-ups. I don’t know what we’re doing, but we keep doing it. One day I’m going to drive over and show up at her door. She can slam it in my face or invite me in for talking or … whatever happens.

I’ve never had a relationship that I played by ear. Always there was Where is this going? Are we exclusive? No, Zach, I can’t go out for drinks right now, because I’m in bed with another guy.

That last one could only happen to me.

For some reason I don’t worry Abby will be with another guy when I call. I should be worried—she’s attractive, funny, and has her own life. Guys ought to be beating down her door.

Austin thinks my sort-of relationship with Abby is highly amusing. At the family dinner on Sunday, Mom asks why Abby hasn’t come with me. I scan the table, taking in my two brothers and my parents and their interested faces, and shake my head. Because they’d grill her, that’s why. And assume she’s staying in my life forever.

“Didn’t you used to go with her before?” Ben asks. “In high school?”

“Junior high,” Austin answers with glee. “He was in love. He’d sing dopey songs into his hairbrush.”

“I was thirteen,” I say with heat. “Doesn’t explain why you still do it.”

Ben busts up laughing. Austin gives him the eye, and I know he’s going to start teasing Ben about Erin. Ben can barely talk to the woman, though he’s been at her desk every day, explaining the software and fixing little things that go wrong. We’ve never had so many glitches.

“I talked to Brooke day after the wedding,” I slide in, pretending I’m going for neutral conversation. “She’s doing good.”

Austin gives me a that’s-below-the-belt scowl.

“I like Brooke,” Mom says, taking another helping of roasted potatoes. “I remember her when she was younger—I always said she’d do well. She manages an auto business, did you know that?”

Abby has mentioned it. Brooke sells luxury cars—she’d originally been hired to attract men to buy cars they didn’t need, but she’d turned that around and been so good at the business she’d become manager in no time at all. Now she’s talking about buying the business when its owner retires.

Austin retreats, suddenly absorbed in his food. Ben shoots me a look of gratitude.

Talk turns to Ryan and Calandra. They’ll be home next week.

“We’ll have a big dinner to celebrate,” Mom says. “Zach, why don’t you invite Abby?”

I choke on the bite of steak I’ve shoved into my mouth. I cough, drink water. “I’m not sure she’ll be interested,” I manage.

“Why not? Calandra’s her best friend. We can welcome her into the family.” Mom doesn’t specify whether she means Calandra or Abby, and I don’t ask.

Austin doesn’t either, because he’s sitting there terrified Mom will suggest we invite Brooke too.

“And Erin, if she has time,” Mom goes on relentlessly. “She’s a nice girl, don’t you think? I would like to hire her permanently, but I’m not sure she’d accept. Did you all know she’s a dancer?”

Ben hasn’t mentioned this. He says nothing and takes a careful sip of iced tea.

“A dancer?” I prompt.

“With the West Valley Ballet. They’re not big but very, very good, from what I hear. Hard to get into. When I interviewed her, Erin explained she couldn’t work anything but very set hours, because she has to rehearse and do performances. I said that would be all right.”

Mom sends the rest of us a stern gaze, which means no one had better object. Ben returns to his food, not looking at anyone. Poor guy.

Dad, who long ago decided to sit back and let Mom talk, watches her in his quiet way, a smile on his face. He never says a lot, but when he does speak, we all sit up and listen.

“It’ll be good to have Ryan home,” he says.

He doesn’t mean that to be detrimental to the rest