Page 20 of The Lineman

“One of them hit on me. Openly. With all the subtlety of a sledgehammer wearing lipstick.”

Elliot actually choked on his drink.

“Oh yeah. Straight-up flirted. Hell, she did everything except flash her boobs.”

Elliot coughed, wiping his mouth. “You serious?”

“Dead serious.” I sighed. “Her name is Jessica. She twirls her hair a lot. Asked if I was single in front of the whole class.”

Elliot’s grin flared to full wattage. I tried not to swoon. “Jesus. That’s brutal.”

“You’re telling me,” I muttered. “I nearly died on the spot.”

“And what did you say?”

“I deflected like a goddamn pro,” I said proudly. “Redirected the conversation straight to Shakespeare.”

“Nothing kills the mood like old English.” Elliot chuckled. “Smooth, Professor.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe I’m being harassed in my place of work . . . by a fifteen-year-old girl.”

“Yeah,” Elliot mused, eyes twinkling. “That must be so uncomfortable.”

I squinted at him. “Was that sarcasm?”

His grin widened. “Maybe.”

I pointed a warning finger at him. “Careful. I can still make you read Hamlet out loud in front of a class.”

Elliot smirked. “I’d rather climb a power pole during a lightning storm.”

He tossed back the last bite of sandwich and chased it with a sip of whatever bubbly concoction he’d mixed like a seven-year-old at the fountain machine.

“All right,” Elliot said, crumpling his sandwich wrapper. “Since you picked Mount Vernon, tell me—what’s your actual plan? You staying here long term, or is this just a pit stop?”

I hesitated.

I hadn’t really thought about that. Hell, I’d just moved in. Who thinks about the long term when you’re still living through the near term?

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I mean, I like it so far. I don’t hate the neighborhood.”

“That so?” Elliot tilted his head, amused. “And the neighbors? They treating you all right?”

I took a sip of my drink, casually avoiding eye contact. “The people seem . . . interesting. Homer likes them, especially their legs.”

“Mm-hmm.” Elliot snorted. It was nice seeing him relax his granite-like façade long enough to laugh.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was talking about Mrs. Henderson.”

He laughed again. “Of course, you were.”

I huffed. “You know, she’s very invested in your dating life.”

Elliot groaned and slapped a palm to his face. “Jesus. I know.”

“She tried to set you up with her hairdresser.”

“Yeah. And some guy named Arturo from her church.” He grimaced. “How do you—?”

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