That wasn’t any better—more words, not more content.
Allison looked amused. “Well,” she said. “That’s what I was going for when I brought him up. All right. Middle of the road. Unobjectionable.”
Flynn sighed and gave up. “I like him,” he admitted. Out loud. For the first time. “I don’t think it’s going anywhere, but I really like him.”
It still sounded stupid to him, but Allison gave him a slow, wide smile and nodded.
“Good.” She leaned forward and confided, “I think he likes you too.”
She looked delighted with herself. Flynn didn’t have the heart to disillusion her. “Maybe,” he said. “We’ll see.”
“You’ll see. I know my son.” She steadied herself against the desk and reached down for her bag. “Just let me call a taxi—”
“Nate’s on his way,” Flynn said. “He can give you a lift.”
“You called him?” Allison said. “I told them I didn’t want to call him.”
Flynn shrugged, leaned back against the door, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I told you already I’m an asshole. And he’s your son. He’s not going to mind coming to get you.”
“He worries about me. He’s worse than any of them out there, and he should be living his life, not fussing over me,” Allison said. She dropped the phone into her bag and sat back in the chair. Then she sighed and admitted sheepishly, “Also, I’m on this low oxidant, raw food, anticancer diet that I’ve been trying to convince Nate he should try.”
“Chips not on it?” Flynn asked.
She pulled a face. “It’s good for you. Nothing nice is on it.”
Flynn snorted. Apparently being surreptitiously unhealthy was a family trait.
