the next, Lacey. A man’s got to settle down at some point. Where’s the peeler?”
She nodded toward a drawer. “Should be in there. What did you do for this company?”
“I started as a busboy and worked my way up to chef. There’s not a kitchen in the Aman organization where I haven’t worked, and that includes Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, French Polynesia, Montenegro, Turkey, Morocco—”
“Morocco?”
“Yes, and, trust me, it’s nothing like your movie.”
Her movie. “I understand you went with Rio instead,” she said, lifting the dough ball out of the bowl to turn it on the counter. “Good choice.”
“And, believe me, that cartoon was no more realistic a depiction of Rio de Janeiro than Casablanca is of Morocco.”
Morocco. Even the word reminded her of Clay and how much she would have liked to have watched their movie together.
Oh, now her movie was their movie. “Did you like Morocco?”
He shrugged, starting to expertly peel a Granny Smith. “What I saw of it. Mostly I worked.”
“That’s not like you. Usually you trek.”
“I still do now and then,” he admitted. “Once I finished my time with Aman, I took a year to hit a few of my favorite haunts, like Kuala Lumpur and, of course, Chile and Argentina.”
“Of course.” She knew what was down there in Chile and Argentina. “You’ve always had a soft spot for Patagonia.”
He had the apple peeled and cored in a matter of seconds, his hands smooth as silk and lightning fast. “That didn’t take too long.”
“The apple?”
“The Patagonia dig.”
She smiled, shaking her head and giving the dough another fold. “This has to chill for a while,” she said. “I can finish the apples.”
“Let’s do them together,” he said. “Do you prefer to peel or slice?”
She wrapped the dough in plastic, then opened the fridge. “You look like you’re pretty handy with the peeler. I’ll slice.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the sweep of his peeler and the slide of her knife as she made the paper-thin slices. When she started on the second apple, she took a breath and decided to attempt the more serious conversation.
“So, David. What exactly are you doing here?”
The peeler slowed infinitesimally. “Does my being here upset you that much, Lacey?”
“What upsets me is the ideas that are being planted in Ashley’s brain. Ideas that will never happen.”
“You never know what’s going to happen.”
“But I know what isn’t going to happen: You and I are not getting back together to live happily ever after as Ashley Armstrong’s married parents.”
“Married?” he choked softly. “You know I don’t believe in marriage.”
Oh, yes. That she knew for sure and certain. “I know you don’t believe in marriage,” she replied. “I think that’s why we’re in this situation to begin with. I do believe in marriage.”
“Then why aren’t you married?”
She should have seen that coming. “Because I haven’t met a man I think would be an ideal partner, a perfect father to Ashley, and a great husband.”
He finished an apple and put it on her cutting board, the sweet smell making her want a bite of one of her slices. “Maybe you’ve already found that man.”
She looked up at him. “Clay?”
He let out a sharp laugh. “I meant me.”
“You?” A thousand responses warred for air time, but she glommed on to the easiest one. “You just said you don’t believe in marriage.”
“And you think that twenty-something longhair with a tattoo does?”
“Now you sound like a parent.”
“Well, I am a parent, and my daughter’s well-being is at stake.”
What was he saying? “You think Clay could hurt her?”
“I think Clay could hurt you. It’s obvious what he wants, drawing naked pictures, bringing beer over to your house, rolling around on the hammock.”
It was so obvious she couldn’t argue the point. “He’s going to work for me. He’s doing the work pro bono.”
“Oh, he’ll get paid all right.”
She turned to him, lifting the knife from the apple just enough to make her point. “Watch it,” she said. “You’re over the line.”
He held up both hands and took a step back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just jealous.”
Jealous? “All right, then, color me confused. I mean, how can you be jealous? Why? You’ve been gone for a lifetime. Suddenly you care who I’m involved with? About Ashley’s well-being?”
“I’ve always cared about Ashley’s well-being.”
She focused on the blade, sliding it through the apple and letting it thunk to the board. “Then you had a lousy way of showing it,” she said. “Or are we supposed to just erase the