for my pride, but they said the truth shall set you free, right? Maybe partial honesty could earn me a day or two of liberty. “I had a real thing for you when I was thirteen.”
A fleeting smile curved his mouth. “I know. You were pretty obvious about it. The year I was seventeen, you didn’t say a single word to me without stuttering and turning red.”
“Well, there you go, then. At any moment, I could leap on the opportunity to make my adolescent fantasies come true.”
He shook his head. “Funny, but no. Girls don’t want me once they grow up. Or after they get to know me.”
“Are you crazy?” I demanded.
“It’s the truth, Lauren. I’m not a guy women dream of settling down with.... They don’t go out with me once, then start planning our futures. I’m the one they sleep with before they meet Mr. Right. Anyone who ends up with me, she’ll just be settling.”
I’d noticed that Rob didn’t have a lot of confidence, but this was the first time I realized how deep the fissure in his psyche ran. “That’s absolute bullshit.”
“You think I haven’t seen it often enough to work out the pattern? I’m the fling, the rebound guy. Sometimes they use me to make someone else jealous because I make good arm candy. But I never get the girl at the end.”
“Maybe you’re reading the wrong stories,” I said softly, then swallowed, battling a rabble of butterflies. Confessing this didn’t mean I was asking him to date me; it just seemed like his ego needed a boost. “If I was writing the book, you’d definitely be the main love interest. You’re sweet, funny, considerate, protective—”
“All of those qualities could apply to a German shepherd.”
“Not considerate. Big dogs get fur and mud all over the place without a second thought. Probably, they’d tip over the garbage, too.” I didn’t mention his hotness. Rob had heard enough about his appearance to last a lifetime. “You’re also ingenious and hardworking, plus you have this extraordinary ability to see things other people miss.”
“I know you’re just trying to cheer me up, but...it’s working.” His smile did ridiculous things to me. Really, his mouth should come with a warning label.
“Yeah? Good. Now I don’t want to hear any more crap from you, Robert Clayton Conrad. I happen to think you’re wonderful, and my opinions are always right.”
“Is that so?”
“Ask anyone. Nadia will back me up.”
He laughed. “That’s no fair. You guys have been teaming up against me for years.”
But he seemed much more upbeat when we went back to work. When he dropped me off at home several hours later, he confirmed, “Interview tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I’ll be ready.”
“I’ll be here at half past.”
My mom was home when I came in. She had dinner on the table and there was a strange man adding the silverware. His back was to me so I only saw that he had narrow shoulders. Since I knew about Stuart, I wasn’t shocked exactly, but I did stop short.
Damn, some warning would’ve been nice.
“I need to wash up before I’m presentable,” I called, heading straight up the stairs.
“Okay, the rolls need ten more minutes anyway.”
Wow, if she was baking fresh bread, it meant she really wanted the meal to go well. In my mom’s mind, fresh-baked goods equaled fancy. I didn’t necessarily disagree with her. So I took a quick, second shower to rinse off the remodeling sweat and blow-dried my hair just enough so I didn’t look like I just got back from the gym. Then I put on a decent pair of jeans and a nice sweater.
They were drinking wine in the living room when I came down. Stuart stood up as soon as he saw me, a sign of impeccable manners. He was in his late thirties, I guessed, which meant he was somewhat younger than my mom, but not enough of an age gap for it to seem like she was in the market for a boy toy. Plus, he wasn’t the type, physically: medium height, thinning dark hair, average features with a bony build. He also wore glasses and he seemed really anxious about his tie. By the look of him, I guessed he had Chinese heritage.
“Nice to meet you.” I offered a hand for him to shake.
“Likewise.” His palms were sweaty, which meant he was nervous. “I’m Stuart Lee.”
I extrapolated that he cared about making a good impression. Since my mom liked him, it was enough for me to give him a fair shot. She hovered until I caught her eye and smiled; she relaxed visibly and hustled us both into the kitchen, where she had chicken stew simmering on low. I helped her dish it up and then she rescued the bread. As we were using the fine dishes, I was glad I’d swiped on some makeup.
We ate a few bites in awkward silence before Stuart waded in with his game face on. “Miriam tells me you’re starting at a new college this summer.”
“Yeah.” Through the main course, I explained my plans, trying to sound friendly and welcoming, even when the answers to his questions were obvious.
“I hear computer science is a great field to get into,” he said. “Lots of growth.”
“So I hear. How’s the insurance game?”
“Steady. Auto insurance is required by law, and the older people get, the more they worry about death benefits.”
Depressing dinner conversation, but his words had the ring of truth. “I can imagine.”
“When you add in home owners, renters and those who need flood insurance, I have a pretty steady stream of customers.” He was trying to sound jovial. “And I get a lot of referrals, too. Once you build a rapport with people, they tell their friends about you.”
My mom wore a frozen, slightly desperate look, as if she’d noticed that the conversation was a beached and dying whale but she didn’t know how to shove the unwieldy thing back into the ocean. “But there’s more to life than work, am I right? My favorite thing about Stuart is his incredible Frank Sinatra voice.”
That was interesting. “You sing?”
He blushed a little, and I saw what drew my mom to him; there was the sweetness she’d mentioned. “Not professionally.”
Mom put in, “We met at karaoke. Stuart was on stage when I came in, and I just kind of...forgot to sit down.”
He smiled at her, softness in his eyes. “I thought she was giving me a standing ovation, so I went over to talk to her.”
She put her hand briefly over Stuart’s and said, “Well, I was, indirectly. I never heard a more beautiful rendition of ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin.’” Turning to me, she added, “He sang three more times that night, and he’d just quietly walk on stage, perch on a stool and then just own the room. Everyone shuts up the minute Stuart opens his mouth.”
He laughed. “That doesn’t necessarily sound like a good thing, Miri.”
So cute. I like them together.
“It is, you know it is. Lauren, you have to come with us some night. I’m terrible, but we can sing the Spice Girls or Destiny’s Child together.”
“Who?” I teased, like I hadn’t heard her blasting them before. My mom and I shared a mutual penchant for popular music. Hers was just...older than mine. “Let me know what night you want to go. Wait, since when does Sharon have a karaoke bar?” I considered the nightlife options around here and drew a blank.
“We don’t. I drove over to Edison.”
I smiled at Stuart. “Seems like it was a good move. Is that where you’re from?”
“Not originally. I grew up in Peoria.”
“Did