Page 88 of Heating Up (Nugget)
Sloane folded the top of the chip bag. “Take these away from me. I don’t have anything against her. I barely know her. She’s just not for you.”
He thought Sloane might be wrong about that. It was still early, but the more he got to know Dana, the more he became convinced she was just the thing for him.
Sloane gazed at the kitchen clock. “Duty calls, I’ve got to go.” She brought her plate to the sink and helped put everything away. “Thanks for lunch.”
“Any time. If you hear anything, let me know.”
“You got it.”
He heard Sloane’s police rig pull out of the driveway and tidied up. Dana liked the place clean and he often left a mess. Her bedroom door stood open and he peeked inside. He found everything in its place: bed neatly made, pillows perfectly arranged, drapes symmetrically drawn. On a lark, he opened the closet. That too had stayed as organized as the day he’d built it. Only now, thanks to Harlee, there was a lot more clothing in it.
Everything smelled like her too, a soft, powdery fragrance that reminded him of flowers and sunshine. Hard to believe her house had burned down a few weeks ago. Sloane had been wrong; Dana was one of the strongest women he’d ever known.
His phone rang and he checked the caller ID. It was a Chicago area code, but he didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?” he answered. Nothing but air and the faint sound of someone breathing. “Hello? Anyone there?”
“Aidan?”
“Sue? You okay?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I was . . . uh . . . just calling about the condo. Have you sold it yet?”
He’d told her that he would give her half the proceeds from the sale even though he’d bought the place himself. But like the furniture, she’d declined. Perhaps she needed the money after all.
“Not yet,” he said.
“I know someone who may be interested.”
“Oh?” Why hadn’t she called the listing agent?
“She’s a friend of Sebastian’s and she likes the neighborhood. I just thought . . . uh . . . that it might be helpful if I passed her name along.”
“Yeah, okay, sure. Let me get a pen.” Although what was he supposed to do with the information? Again: Wouldn’t it have made more sense for Sebastian’s friend to call Aidan’s real estate agent? He went back in the kitchen and rifled through the designated junk drawer, where he found both a pen and a pad of paper. “I’m back.”
She gave Aidan the woman’s name and number.
“Thanks. I’ll pass it on to my agent.” There was a long silence. Finally, he said, “How was the wedding?”
“It was good. How’s California?”
“Good. It’s nice living near Sloane and it’s really beautiful here.”
“You think you’ll come back to Chicago?”
“To visit my folks and my brothers, yeah of course.”
“I meant to live.”
Weird question, considering the reason for her call was about him selling his condo. “Uh, no, I like it here. I like the job.”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“Sue,” he said, “what’s going on here?”
“Nothing. I just don’t like the way we ended. It’s been bothering me. We were together a long time. I care about you. I care about your happiness.”
“I care about you too, Sue. You know that, right? I want you to be happy. I’ve always wanted you to be happy. And to answer your question, yeah, I’m seeing someone.”
