“I’ll have Tom arrange for the furniture to be donated to a shelter unless you think there’s something crazy valuable that we should keep or sell with the house, and I’ll ask Matt or Riley if they want to go through Angus’s things.”
Tense silence settled between us, and I toggled to my email to avoid thinking about that house. I hated the emotional toll it took, and that after all these years of being on our own and redefining ourselves, that house had the power to bring us right back.
“Last thing: I’m going to give Lauren a bridal shower. She’s not having bridesmaids, and both of her closest friends are busy being pregnant all the time, but I still want her to have a party.”
I blinked at Shannon. “And you need my help with that?”
“Yeah, asshole, I was hoping you could bake a penis cake,” she snapped, but her irritated eyes quickly crinkled with humor. She giggled, and soon my shoulders were shaking as laughter took over.
“What the fuck is a penis cake, Shan?”
“It’s a cake!” she squealed between laughs, her face and neck flushing bright red. “Shaped like a penis, with a puddle of tapioca pudding and some chocolate shavings for—”
“That’s enough! I don’t want to hear another word.” I closed my laptop and folded my arms on the table. “I love Lauren but I don’t want to imagine her—or you, or anyone—eating dick cake. I never want to talk about this again.”
“Dude, you’re so easy,” she giggled. “I just wanted to know if you were good with me inviting Andy.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I scratched my head. “Doesn’t she hang out with you and Lauren?”
Shannon lifted a shoulder. “Well, you aren’t super-positive about her, and you get super-annoyed when I bring her up, and you freaked out when me and Lauren went dress shopping with her. So I wanted to check with you first.” She twisted her bracelets and considered me. That placating voice was back. It was as if she didn’t trust me around sharp objects. “Are things getting better with you two?”
It was the day of no right answers. “I mean, yeah, she’s…smart. And people like her.”
“‘People like her’ but not you?”
“I…I, I like her,” I stammered. I didn’t think it was necessary to clarify my appreciation for Andy had many facets. “She’s smart. She was a good hire.”
“Impressive. You’re evolving.” She glanced at her watch, and her eyes widened. “Shit. I have to go.”
She swept her laptop and phone into her bag, and slipped on her outerwear while I gathered the paperwork on the table.
“Don’t think the cake conversation is over,” she yelled from the doorway.
The lights were on in my office, and though her things were still there, Andy wasn’t. I dropped my laptop and files, and headed out to search the building for her. I wandered through four levels, turning off lights as I went, and eventually found her in the materials room. I watched her from the hall, admiring the way she cocked her head while she studied the paint color bridge over the stone finish samples.
Straight-up creeper, but that was nothing new.
Careful to keep my steps quiet, I positioned myself behind Andy, and wrapped my arm around her waist. “That one.” I pointed over her shoulder to a dark gray paint chip. Once I swept her hair to the side, I pressed my lips to her neck. She gasped, her body stiffening in my arms. “We’re alone. I checked.”
“What are you still doing here, stalker?”
“Looking for you,” I said, my nose running along her neck. Over the past few weeks, I learned only her hair smelled like lavender, and though it left perfumed traces in her wake, Andy tasted slightly different.
“I had to walk away from those plans. I threatened to shred them a few times but they haven’t learned their lessons yet.”
Seeing Andy frustrated was a new experience for me. It felt special, like another secret treasure she was offering. My cache was limited to her mood-driven alcohol choices, the tattoos, and the adorable way she completely lost her shit when she was drunk. “What’s wrong?”
Andy exhaled, and rested her head against my shoulder. “There are some strange variations in room dimensions between the two plans. In some places, it’s insignificant—an inch or two. But in others, it’s substantial.”
“We should talk about this over dinner,” I said against her skin. “I’m sure I can figure it out.”
“If there’s anyone who could, it would be you.”
*
I squinted atthe screen, and swiped the image to zoom in further while scribbling numbers on a cocktail napkin. Looking between the screen and the numbers, I shook my head. As far as I could tell, Angus turned the Wellesley plans into something incomprehensible in one of his final ass-kickings.
“Fuck if I know.”
