Page 47 of The Relationship Clause

I go back and reread our conversation.

Owen: Fine. What did you mean?

Kiera: I meant how long are you going to be in complete and total denial that you two are absolutely perfect for each other?

I stare at her words, knowing she’s probably watching me from her desk. Why did I put her so close to me? I mean, originally, it was to keep an eye on her. Some ill-conceived notion of brotherly protection. Part of me wants to turn the opacity of my windows up, but to her, that would only be a confirmation of something. Never mind the fact that another part of me wants to ask her to clarify exactly how Junie and I would be perfect for each other.

Owen: I’m going to pretend you never said that.

Kiera: Oh, come on! You don’t see it?

Owen: What I see or don’t see is irrelevant. I am her employer. Any relationship between myself and any of my employees beyond that of a working relationship would be unscrupulous.

Not to mention the contract we both signed.

Kiera: You’re no fun.

Owen: And you’re crazy. Oh, look! We can both point out the obvious.

Kiera: Har har. You know what else you are? I’ll give you a hint: it shares a name with a river in Egypt.

Kiera: Come on though, seriously. Don’t you see it? You’re not fun, Junie can help you lighten up. Junie can’t put down roots, you’re just the right amount of grounded she needs. See? P E R F E C T.

I stare at the words, keeping my reaction in check, but they still have an effect on me. I shouldn’t ask about it, but…

Owen: Can’t put down roots, huh? Is that why she has a closet full of sweatshirts she’s gotten from ex-boyfriends?

Kiera: WHAT? You know about the sweatshirts!?

Owen: I wish I didn’t.

Owen: She suggested I wear one of them when I was helping her demo her house. She was so flippant about them. As if they were just clothes.

Kiera: Maybe, to her, they are just clothes.

I lean back in my chair, considering her words. Any way I look at it, I don’t like it. How could she date fifteen men, like them enough to accept one of their sweaters, break up with them, and then consider said sweaters just clothes?

And why does that bother me so much?

Owen: She said she struggles with staying in one spot. What does that mean?

Kiera: She shared that with you?

Owen: Yeah, why?

Kiera: She didn’t share that with me until I practically forced her to after she’d already moved out.

Owen: Fine, but what does it mean?

Kiera: I don’t think I can share that with you. She’s opening up to you, which is good. But if she wants you to know her whys, she’ll tell you. Trust the process.

Kiera: And don’t mess anything up in the meantime.

Kiera: Speaking of messing things up, how bad would it be if I skipped out on dinner tonight with you and dad?

I roll my eyes then look out the window to shoot her a scathing glare, but she is wisely not looking in my direction now. Dad canceled the dinner I’d originally planned to cook for him and Kiera last weekend, which was just fine with me, because at the time, I was knee-deep in Junie’s kitchen reno. We rescheduled it for tonight, and I’ve warned Kiera repeatedly that I expect her to be there.

Owen: I will write your number on every public bathroom stall in Greenville.

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