Page 37 of The Boyfriend Swap

I squirmed, remembering asking him the question before Aimee called. “It’s okay. I was.”

Will shook his head. “You were quirky.”

Cocking my head to the side, I said, “Isn’t ‘quirky’ a nice way of saying ‘weird’?”

“Not when I say it. You were adorable.” Locking his eyes on mine, he said, “You still are, Snow,” before looking away as if regretting his words.

My lips parted, but I was at a loss for a response. If it were ten years ago, I’d be crossing my fingers Will’s next words would be “Will you be my girlfriend?” But he already had one of those, and I had someone too. And besides, calling me “adorable” didn’t mean he was attracted to me. It could mean he wanted to adopt me like a rescue dog. Clearing my throat, I said, “What about you? Do you like being a lawyer?”

Will nodded. “So many aspects of law fit my personality. I’ve always been very analytical, I love solving puzzles, and writing is a strength too.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “And despite popular opinion, not all attorneys are boring, rigid workaholics.”

It was never my intention to insult Will, and as I sunk lower into my chair in shame, I stammered, “I didn’t mean—”

Smiling wryly, Will raised a hand to stop me. “As you know, I also have a thick skin. Quite useful since everyone hates lawyers. And bad singers.”

I giggled.

“But honestly, my firm strikes a good balance between work and home. I don’t always leave the office at five, but it’s not unheard of either. I make it to my seven o’clock cycling class every Wednesday night like clockwork. And I rarely work weekends or miss out on vacation time. I might not make as much money as I would at other firms, like Sidney’s, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. You’re not the only one who likes todothings.” He grinned again to show me he was playing.

I leaned forward, wanting to learn more about the real Will as opposed to the boy I’d placed on a pedestal all through my childhood. “For instance?”

“Besides the usual—spending time with friends, movies, sporting events, concerts—I went skydiving last year, hiked Mt. Kilimanjaro the year before, and went on safari in Africa the year before that. Here’s one that might surprise you—I took an improv class two years ago.”

My chin almost hit the floor. “No way.”

He smirked. “Yes way. At the PIT Comedy School.”

Logic suggested I shouldn’t be stunned by Will’s proclamation considering what a ham he was on the dance floor, but I was reeling anyway. “Any particular reason you took the course?”

Will shrugged. “I wanted to try something outside of the box. I was also considering a writing class at Gotham Writer’s Workshop, but I was lost for what to write about. At least in improv, someone else assigns you the topic.”

“True. Were you any good?” I guessed he was—as long as there was no singing involved.

“Let’s say I’m better at improvisation than I am at singing and worse than I am at dancing. I’d rate myself a solid six. But it was fun, and now I’m a champ at getting uptight judges to crack a grin every once in a while.”

“You’re full of surprises, Will Brady.”

“I aim to keep you on your toes, Snow White. And by the way, I think I was Austin Powers the year you were Cheri Oteri, so I can be retro too.” In a British accent, he asked, “Do I make you horny?” while waggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, baby, yeah,” I replied with a chuckle. Afraid Will could read my mind and know I was only half-joking, I stood up and tossed his empty iced tea bottle in the trash can. Perry’s face flashed before my eyes, and a wave of guilt washed over me.

When I sat back down, Will leaned his elbows on the table, his eyes sparkling with interest. “You never did tell me how you came to be a teacher. I would have guessed you’d have gone into show business like Perry.”

“Honestly, it never even occurred to me to perform professionally. Maybe it was because my parents openly discouraged it, but I always did it for fun. I had the time of my life with James performing in high school.” My heart soared in remembrance of the many late nights after school with the other theater kids singing and dancing over delivery pizza. “And I was in an a cappella group in college too. I think if singing was what paid my bills, it would lose something. But by teaching music and directing the entertainment for the school, I get to share my passion with a whole new generation.” My stomach dropped as fear of the school shutting down the music program overcame me once again.

Wrinkling his brow, Will asked, “What’s wrong?”

I told him about the rumors and sighed dejectedly. “For all I know, it’s baseless prattle, but after getting Lance’s email, I can’t help being concerned.”

Will wrinkled his nose. “How much do you think the music program costs?”

“According to my research, it’s only about two hundred dollars per student annually, but I don’t know how much of the total school’s budget it accounts for. Did you know there’s a direct correlation between exposure to music and language development in children under ten?”

Shaking his head, Will said, “I did not.”

I nodded eagerly. “It’s true. An article I read also claims music education decreases students’ involvement in delinquent behavior and improves their self-image. Some students even score better on their SATs.” I stopped talking as I caught Will’s amused grin. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

“No apologies necessary. You’re passionate about it.”

---