Page 9 of Gifts

He doesn’t agree, but blatantly asks, “Who’s Stan?”

I stand up straighter and put my hands on my hips. “You’re awfully direct, aren’t you?”

“I’m raising two teenagers by myself for the first time ever and most of the time I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t have time to be anything but direct.” He still hasn’t moved, sitting across from me, relaxed in his chair. “Who’s Stan?”

I shake my head and give in. What does it matter anyway? “Stan is someone I had dinner with.”

He immediately states the obvious. “Stan doesn’t know how to change a tire.”

I try to hide my smile. “I figured that out while I was standing in the ditch. Apparently, those of us who don’t know how to change a tire still need to eat.”

“You shouldn’t be going to dinner with people who don’t know how to change a tire.”

I roll my eyes, smiling, and shake my head before I look back. “After Saturday night, I have to agree with you. The ability to change a tire will be a must before I agree to sharing a meal with anyone in the future.”

“Then it’s a done deal. I’m taking you to dinner.”

Wait.

I lose my smile. “Sorry. I’ve decided I’m not going to dinner with anyone else for a long while.”

His smirk returns. “But you’ve seen me change a tire. I’ve basically interviewed for the position.”

This is true. Even so, I’m not going to dinner with anyone—whether they can change a tire or not—so I go for the big guns. “I have children.”

“So do I.”

His responses come so quickly, it’s like he’s in my head.

“Yes,” I agree. I obviously know he has children. “But mine are young. I can’t leave them home alone and just go out whenever I feel like it.”

His eyes widen with shock. “But you went out with Stan?”

“Yes,” I repeat, but this time I’m frustrated. “Stan was a blind date. He works with my sister’s husband. After Saturday night, both my sister and brother-in-law were dead to me for like,” I shake my head at the memory of me banging around my kitchen while I berated Stephie for setting me up, “an hour because of it. I don’t have a ton of sitters hanging around to watch my kids.”

He shrugs like it’s no big thing. “Bring them. Everyone needs to eat. I don’t want to leave Emma home by herself—I’ll force her to come, too.”

I shake my head. “I can’t go out with you. I’m your children’s counselor. There has to be some rule about that.”

Asa stands and puts his hands on the desk to lean in close. I do my best to hold my ground and not step back or cross my arms again, but it’s hard. Eye-to-eye, he lowers his voice. “I don’t play by the rules, Ms. Lockhart. I never have. If there’s a rule I can’t have dinner with my kids’ counselor, then I plan on breaking it.”

I exhale quickly, speechless.

He stands up straight and holds out his hand. When I give him mine, hoping he’ll finally leave since I have no idea what else to say, he grips my hand with his big warm one. His grasp is firm, yet weirdly comforting. “Keelie.”

I give his hand a squeeze and my voice comes out in a whisper. “Asa.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he adds. “Now that I know where to find you, we’ll discuss dinner soon.”

“But—” I start when he interrupts, and when he does, his face turns genuine and meaningful.

“I appreciate your help with Emma. I’m worried about her.”

I exhale and release him. “Of course.”

With that, he gives me another nod and leaves my office. When the door shuts behind him, I collapse into my chair, wondering what the fuck just happened.

Chapter 3

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