“Rosa told me you came in today.”
“I’ll find somewhere else to work,” she blurted out.
He shook his head. “It’s not really up to me. But I do think Rosa liked you.”
“I like her, too.”
He smiled, but it looked a little sad. “Just know I’d be okay with it if you accepted the job.” He took his plate back and waited for her to enter the dining room first.
“I appreciate that.” It still didn’t make her change her mind. Working for a man who was engaged, a man she was attracted to? The idea was torturous.
She ignored Mom and Marianne’s curious faces and watched Edward dish himself up a new helping of salad before cautiously adding dressing.
“Have you met any of the other neighbors?” he asked, looking around at them.
“I have,” Greta said, stabbing a piece of chicken with her fork. “A boy in my class says he lives in the big house on the end of the street. He talks a lot. Like, a lot. I had to ditch him when we got off at the bus stop so we didn’t have to walk home together.”
“Greta.” Mom frowned. “That wasn’t very nice.”
Greta shrugged. “You said if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. So I was trying not to talk to him.”
Marianne snorted. “Can’t argue with that logic.”
“I bet he’s a Middleton.” Edward pointed out the window, towards the end of the street. “I’m surprised John hasn’t come over to say hello. He and Sherri are friends with everyone. Don’t be surprised if they invite you to one of their backyard parties. They’re very proud of their backyard, and they want everyone to see it.”
“What’s in their backyard?” Marianne asked.
“A pool and a large deck with seating for a crowd. A miniature golf course. Tiki lights. A sound system.”
Greta’s eyes bulged. “I guess I should be nicer to Ian. I’ll walk home from the bus with him tomorrow.”
“You shouldn’t be friends with someone just because they have nice stuff,” Mom reminded her gently.
“Well, why not? We don’t have anything nice anymore.” Greta looked around their house. “What do we have to offer people?”
“Our charming personalities.” Marianne sighed. “And that’s about it. I’m going to be single forever.” She glanced at Edward. “There aren’t any good-looking single guys in this town, are there?”
He shrugged, looking apologetic. “I guess it depends on your definition of good looking. Brandon Rice is single. He practically lives over at the Middletons’ house when he’s not away working. He’s Sherri’s cousin.”
“Away working where?” Elinor asked.
“L.A., mostly. He comes up with jingles for commercials and radio. The ones that get purposely stuck in your head.”
“What a horrible waste of musical talent.”
“Marianne.” Mom frowned at her.
“Is honesty a crime?”
“Any songs we would know?” Greta asked.
“Yeah. You know the ‘Fight Me for a Bite’ potato chip song?”
“He made that?” Greta’s mouth dropped open.
“I officially hate him.” Marianne propped her chin on her palm. “How old is this single, attractive music destroyer anyway?”
“About thirty.”
