Page 32 of Partner Pursuit
She raised her eyebrow, questioning, determinednotto getflustered.
“So…” he drawled, maintaining eye contact.
“Yes?”she asked.
“A coloringbook?”
She giggled. “It was billed as the perfect gift forsurfers!”
“Don’t believe the hype, and I speak as a marketing guru.” She couldn’t believe he was in her garden and they were chattingcasually.
“So modest.”
“No room for modesty in marketing.”
“I’m a sucker for marketing,”shesaid.
“I was hoping you’d say marketing men,” he quipped.
“Too easy.” She smiled. “I don’t think I’ve met many marketingmen.”
“We can remedy that,” hesaid.
Yes, please, but really, she just wanted to get to know one particular marketing man. And not just as a friend. But she shouldn’t be distracted from her goal of making partner.
“Have you had dinner? I was thinking of ordering something in. Like fish,”he teased.
“I wonder why.” She peeked up innocently. “I’ve got a chicken cranberry curry dish that Eve made and froze for me. There’s enough for two if you’d like that. It’s scrumptious, and I’m not biased because she’s my best friend.”
“Sounds great. Does she cook for you often?”
“I’m her number one guinea pig. She’s pulling together her menu for a catering business. And her cooking is so much healthier for me thantake-out.”
“Can Biscuit come intoo?”
“Of course.” She petted his head. “We’re not going to leave you aloneoutside.”
She slid open the sliding door to her bedroom, relieved that she’d made her bed that morning.
He commented that he liked the painting on the wall above her bed. It was a bright blue and green abstract painting she’d bought at a New York art fair. Jake and Biscuit followed her up the stairs into her kitchen. Jake stopped short at the cans of beer stacked up against her brick wall at the far end of the kitchen. “Why do you have a wall of beer? Or is that some kind of artistic Warhol statement?”
“I don’t drink that much beer. And every time I throw a party to reconnect with my friends, the beer stack grows. I buy beer and then people bring more beer than they drink.” She gave Biscuit a bowl of water and put rice in a pot of water toboil.
“I can throw a party that will take care of all thatbeer.”
She laughed. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but you’re welcome to it.” The comforting smell of boiling rice filledtheroom.
“Can I help with anything?”he asked.
“No, it’s really easy.” His presence was making her nervous.She couldn’t believe they were about to eat dinner together. In her apartment. Maybe they should’ve ordered takeout. Then he could have chosen what he wanted to eat.She tightened her grip on the curry dish as she poured it into a pan to heat, worried that she mightbe clumsy.
“We need music,” hesaid.
She unlocked her iPhone and handed it to him so he could choose some songs.
He studied it and her bookshelves. “I see you stillhaveCDs.”
“This spoken by the man who still has records?” Although she’d inherited some of those CDs from her mother.
