Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
We walked out to the street together.
“What about you?” Dawson asked. “Any plans for the rest of the weekend?”
“I was invited to an art opening tomorrow night. But I’m not sure if I’m going.” I left off that Simon had also mentioned having dinner before.
His eyes narrowed. “With who?”
“Nosy much?”
“It’s with Sam, isn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes. “I know you know his name is Simon, and not that it’s any of your business, but yes, Simon invited me to an art exhibit because we’re friends. I think you’ve become a little obsessed with my personal life.”
“Why aren’t you sure if you’re going?”
The truth was, I’d let Dawson’s comments make me question whether Simon might be interested in more than just friendship. He had said some sweet things last night, and I’d probably read into them because of the stupid stuff Dawson had planted in my head. Simon was just a sweet guy. Though there was no way in hell I’d be telling Dawson he’d made me question Simon’s intentions.
“I’ve been a little tired lately.”
Dawson opened his mouth like he had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but then shut it and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. “I’ll see you Monday?”
“Yep. Monday.”
He caught my eye. “Thanks for your help today, and enjoy your platonic friend tomorrow tonight.”
I lifted my chin. “I will. You know, not every man has a one-track mind and is incapable of being friends with women.”
Dawson offered a two-finger salute. “If you say so.”
Chapter 15
* * *
NAOMI
Sunday morning, I went looking at apartments. It wasn’t much fun, especially when I saw up close and personal what I could afford with my depressing new budget. I’d either have to settle for a small studio, or I was going to have to get roommates. The latter did not appeal to me at all, so I waited in line with all the other broke people to see yet another tiny apartment, only to be turned away when I finally made it two people from the door because someone had already taken the overpriced place. After the third time that happened, I gave up and called it a day.
“Honey, I’m home!” I tossed my keys in the basket Frannie kept on the table near the door and collapsed on her couch dramatically. Leonardo jumped on my lap and started licking my face.
“No luck?” my sister said.
“It’s mind-blowing how fast things move in New York.”
“Let me guess—you waited in line for hours, only to be turned away before you got to see the place because someone snatched up the amazing deal on a two-hundred-and-fifty-square-foot, five-story walkup for only thirty-five hundred a month.”
I smiled. “Basically. You are so lucky to have this big, rent-controlled apartment.”
“I know. And it’s really cool that my kids get to grow up in the same place their dad did, since he’s not around. Did I ever show you Michael’s growth chart in Ryder’s closet? He gets a kick out of marking his height every year and realizing he’s taller than his dad was at the same age.”
Both she and the kids had shown me the wall a half-dozen times over the years since Michael died, yet I wouldn’t deny her a moment to enjoy it again. “Let me see it.”
After a trip to the closet, Frannie made us some tea, and we sat on opposite sides of the kitchen counter. I noticed she looked pale, almost a little gray.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Tired, but okay.” She blew into her mug.
“Maybe you should call the doctor.”
“I’m fine. Really. Tired is normal. How was your date the other night?”
“It wasn’t a date.”
Frannie held her hands up. “Oh-kay.”
I guess it had come out kinda snippy. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. It was a reflex after lunch with Dawson yesterday.”
“Your boss?”
I nodded. “I stopped by the office after going to the gym to see if he needed any help. One of his big cases blew up on Friday, and he was there all night trying to figure out how to fix it. He kept making comments about Simon wanting more than friendship.”
My sister’s forehead wrinkled. “Why does your boss have an opinion about a guy you’re spending time with?”
I sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Uh-oh. Complicated with the boss? That’s asking for trouble, isn’t it?”
“Nothing’s happened. Not really, anyway. But there’s some undeniable chemistry between us, although more often than not, it bubbles to the surface when we’re arguing.”
My sister sighed. “I miss angry sex. Actually, I miss sex in general.”
“Would you think about dating?”
She sighed again. “I don’t know. Maybe someday, I guess. But it would have to be when I’m done with my treatments, and I know my health is okay. I would never want to get involved with anyone just to have them experience what I did losing Michael.”