The woman has a talent for showing up at the worst possible times. I don’t have the patience to deal with her today. Not when I’m cooking up a scheme to kick her to the curb.
But I also don’t have any good reason for turning her away. She knows my habits and my schedule too well.
Swallowing a sigh, I press the button to let her up and make an extra coffee heaped with sugar and frothed cream. Normally, she likes to go out and beseenwith her coffee, but I’m not giving her that today.
When she walks off the elevator and through my door, she’s dressed in some leather and tartan outfit. It’s short and revealing and probably high fashion, but it’s the most boring try-hard shit I’ve ever seen.
Nancy doesn’t care much what look I’m into as long as she’s into it. Not a big deal when it’s just about clothes.
But we both know it isn’t.
Another reason we would never work, never mind the most forced friendship in the world.
“Coffee?” I say, handing her a mug. “I was making some when you dropped in.”
Because it would’ve been too convenient for her to call ahead. It also would’ve given me a prime opportunity to say “Fuck no.”
Two things she knows.
One of the many downsides to our family history is Nancy thinking she has a God-given right to breeze in and out of my life whenever she pleases. Whether I want her around hardly matters.
“Thanks. Is this oat milk?” She eyes the mixture with healthy disgust.
“Would I poison you with anything else?”
“Well, no. You know I don’t do dairy.” She giggles and takes a sip, scrunching up her face with delight.
I hate my life.
If it was an actual dietary restriction, whatever, fine. But Nancy’s selectively gone dairy-free because it makes her trendier. I don’t bother asking about the late-night fondue she scarfed down practically solo just a few weeks ago.
She seems to think dairy-free begins and ends with liquid beverages.
“What do you want, anyway?” I throw myself back in front of my laptop at the marble island.
“Oh, nothing. I just thought we could talk, y’know? We didn’t get much chance after that stupid dog ruined our last date.”
Stupid dog.
I grit my teeth.
“What do you have to say?” I can’t hide the scorn dripping from my voice.
“I dunno.” She shrugs. “Like, talk-talk, Brady. What’s going on in our lives? What’s up with you?” She throws herself down, resting her elbows on the island and leaning forward so she flashes her cleavage.
It’s so transparently ridiculous I almost laugh in her face.
“Don’t have much going on right now, Nance. Just work. The usual.”
“Oh?” She doesn’t sound like she cares. There’s a long pause, and I realize she’s waiting for me to ask about her.
“What are you up to lately?”
“I’msoglad you asked!” Her smile widens. “You remember I told you about Tahiti?”
“Tahiti,” I repeat. It’s vaguely familiar, though I can’t remember any details. “You’re going to French Polynesia?”
“Dude, do youeverstop working long enough to pay attention? Never mind, I’ll forgive you this once.” She rolls her eyes, wagging a finger. “Anyway, remember how I said I was going for a shoot?”
