Page 3 of Idle

No pressure at all. I trace my finger over the lip of the copper mug. “Friday.”

He wipes his hands on his napkin. “I think you’ll enjoy the experience if we’re selected for the show. Both Xander and Theo talk highly of your skills with your house flip.”

Now he’s laying it on way too thick. Sure, both of them came to see the house once I had finished it about eighteen months ago. But they didn’t come during construction, nor did they sit with me while I argued with myself for two hours about the size of the towel racks. Forget about the days spent trying to decide on the right tile for the kitchen backsplash. This Renovation TV show will only highlight how pretty everything looks at the end of the day. How about figuring out how to re-route the electrical or deciding on what pattern to use for the window coverings?

“I’ll get back to you.”

Jesse pulls out his phone. “Let’s exchange numbers. This way we won’t have to keep involving your brother or Xander any further.”

Makes sense if I were inclined to do the show with him. I doubt I will but recite my contact info anyway, after which I drop my fork. This entire dinner has taken far too much out of me.

“Who’s up for dessert?” At Madison’s cheery question, I sink back into my seat. When will this meal end?

2

Jesse

Dinner finished about thirty minutes ago, and I continue to chat with my business school buddy, Xander, and his cousin, Theo, while the ladies huddle on the other side of the room. Xander and I became fast friends during our first year in biz school, and he’s always been supportive of my ideas. Although I’ve helped him too. A certain evening with too much bourbon comes to mind, causing me to suppress a grin.

I nudge him in the ribs. “How’s the Madison Welch PR Agency treating you, Xander?”

“Great. Did you see we were named a ‘mover and shaker’ byNY Magazine?”

“I think someone sent me the article.” I laugh. “Make that two someones.” Both he and his fiancée texted me the link the second it came out. And I don’t blame them—they’ve been working hard for this accolade.

Xander’s eyes stray across the room, then swing back to me. “So tell me, what are you going to say to the bank when you and Paige are selected for the show?”

I love his positivity, although his cousin’s been giving standoffish vibes all night. Even if she agrees to apply with me, it doesn’t mean we’ll be chosen. She would be an excellent addition to the cast, however, given her name and . . . looks. She’s the tomboy ultimate fantasy. I can picture her poster now, with her wearing a toolbelt and nothing else. I gulp.I’m talking with her brother and cousin. “Not sure. Taping will take about six weeks, so I’ll have to ask for a leave of absence, I guess.”

Theo asks, “How much vacation time do you get? Can’t you use that up?”

“I only get four weeks.”

He snaps his fingers. “What about a FMLA leave? To provide aid to your elderly mother who needs hip replacement and you’re her only option?”

I shake my head at his creativity. “I can tell you’re an author.” I raise my index finger. “My mother isn’t elderly, and she’d have your hide if she heard you talking like that.” A second finger is added to the mix. “If such a thing were to happen, I’m pretty sure Homer would be the one helping her. He is married to her, after all.”

It’s close, but Theo manages to swallow his drink. “Homer?”

“And Marge.” I started calling my parents by these names after Diana—

Theo shakes my hand. “You win. That’s a lot better than ‘Mum’ and ‘Father’ like I use.”

“Or boring Mom and Dad like me,” Xander remarks.

Once our chuckles die down, I say, “I guess if the network picks us—if we even apply—then I’ll figure out what I’m going to say to the bank.” I pray I also won’t have to deal with a promotion my boss’s hinted about as well.

They murmur their agreement. “I bet Paige’ll agree. I hope so, anyway. She needs some direction, and this sounds like a great opportunity.” Theo puts his massive paw on my shoulder. “But remember, Little Bit is my sister. Mylittlesister.”

Seems all grown up to me.

On my opposite side, Xander’s hand clamps onto my other shoulder. “And she’s my cousin. No monkey business with her, got it?”

I raise my hands, dislodging theirs from my person. “No fly zone. Message received.” I can’t help but allow my gaze to slip across the room, where I drink in the forbidden fruit.

My musings are interrupted when texts ping on everyone’s cell except mine. One by one, they check their phones. Then the cursing begins.

“Shit.”

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