Morgan glances at her in the candlelight. “Lacy told you that?”
“She mentioned something about it.”
“She say anything else?”
Cece doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “She misses her friends.”
Morgan studies his hands. “Sounds about right.”
“We had a good time today,” Cece says, trying to lighten the mood. “We made nachos, watched a movie.”
“Thank you again. I hope it didn’t put you out.”
“I had a great time with her. She’s fantastic,” Cece says, surprised to find that she means it.
Morgan reaches out to take Cece’s empty wineglass. “I can take that for you, unless you’d like to come in for a nightcap.”
“I better not. I have a double shift on the boat tomorrow.”
They stand up, a polite awkwardness simmering between them. Cece’s head is heavy. The last forty-eight hours have left her thoughts jumbled and hazy, like she’s looking through smudged binoculars. Just yesterday, she was ready to declare Morgan just like all other men, jealous and arrogant. It was easier then, to dismiss his petulance as frivolous and egotistical, but after spending the day with Lacy, Cece’s having trouble letting go.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Yesterday, when we were collecting signatures, were you annoyed with me? About considering the actuary job?”
“I’ve been meaning to apologize. I was out of line. What you do for a living isn’t my business.”
“You sure it’s about that and not something else?”
“Like what?”
Why can’t she accept his apology and move on? What does she want to hear? “You only started acting strange after you met Jonathan, and I told you we were giving it another try.”
Morgan bristles at the question, that familiar exasperation creeping across face. “Look, Cece. You saved me today. I don’t know what I would have done if you couldn’t have watched Lacy, and I’m thankful for it. Let’s just leave it there.”
“I wasn’t ever considering the actuary position in New York.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?”
“Because I didn’t need some guy telling me what jobs will or won’t make me happy. Besides, it’s not like that’s what was bothering you.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you only started acting distant and annoyed since you met Jonathan.”
There’s a part of Cece that knows what she’s doing, poking and prodding, hoping for an argument, a moment where Morgan loses control and says what she suspects but he refuses to admit or say aloud: He’s jealous of Jonathan. He wants Cece to himself; just being friends won’t cut it.
“I don’t think he’s right for you,” Morgan says and puts his palms out, like he’s admitting defeat.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cece says, acutely aware that her plan is already backfiring.She’sthe one who’s flailing, whose cheeks are flushed, heart hammering in her ears.
Eyes still, Morgan regards her like a wild animal caught in a trap. “This is stupid, Cece.”
“No. Now that you’ve said it, I want to know. I deserve to know why someone who’s barely known me for two months is an expert on my type.”
“I don’t picture you with someone like that…his whole look. I mean, give me a break. There’s no way he doesn’t absolutely bore you to death.”
