Page 26 of Across the Boards

Her car turns out to be a sleek Audi sedan, not at all what I expected. She catches my surprised expression as she unlocks it.

“What?” she asks defensively. “Were you expecting a minivan? Or maybe a librarian-approved station wagon?”

“It’s just... sporty,” I admit, sliding into the passenger seat. “And German. I had you pegged as a practical Japanese sedan kind of woman.”

“My practical days ended with the divorce,” she says with a slightly wicked smile. “Jason got the house, I got the ‘midlife crisis’ car.”

“Well played.” I adjust the seat to accommodate my legs. “I approve of your midlife crisis, for the record.”

“I’m thirty-six, not fifty.”

“A preemptive midlife crisis, then. Very efficient.”

She laughs, starting the engine. “I’m full of surprises, Carter.”

“I’m beginning to see that.”

On the drive to Manuel’s, I find myself stealing glances at her profile. There’s something captivating about the way she handles the car—confident, precise, totally in control. It’s sexy as hell.

“You’re staring,” she says without taking her eyes off the road.

“It’s your fault for being worth staring at,” I reply honestly.

She snorts. “Do those lines actually work on anyone?”

“I don’t know,” I say, holding her gaze when she glances over. “Are they working on you?”

“Not even a little bit,” she lies, her slight smile giving her away. “I’m completely immune to hockey player charm.”

“That’s a shame. I’ll have to rely on my non-hockey-related qualities then.”

“Which are?”

“My extensive knowledge of nineteenth-century literature, my ability to identify any Billy Joel song within three notes, and my superior taco-locating skills.”

“Hmm.” She pretends to consider this. “The taco skills might be your strongest asset.”

When we arrive at Manuel’s, the line is already about eight people deep. As we take our place, I catch Elliot scanning the area with a slightly wary expression.

“Problem?” I ask quietly.

“Just... making sure there’s no one I know.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Worried about being seen with me?”

“Not exactly.” She sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “More worried about being seen by someone who might tell Jason. He still has... connections in Phoenix.”

The mention of her ex-husband sends a spark of irritation through me. “And seeing you with me would bother him?”

“Seeing me with anyone would bother him,” she says with a bitter edge. “Not because he wants me back, but because he hates the idea of me moving on. Control thing.”

“So what you’re saying is, we should definitely go make out in front of his favorite restaurant next.”

Her eyes widen, then she bursts out laughing. “You’re terrible.”

“I prefer ‘strategically antagonistic.’”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” But she’s smiling now, tension broken.

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