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“I like space.”
“Me, too. My house in Maryland was pretty small, but I was going to open it up some. Then, big plans, after I had my own super-successful bar, I’d add a second story. Bedroom level, and I’d have my office downstairs. Anyway…”
She trailed off when she stepped into the top story of the turret.
“And more perfect. It’s like a hideaway. Somewhere to stretch out on that sofa, or sit by the fire in the winter, sip some whiskey, and think long, deep thoughts. Or just stand at the window and look out at… everything.”
She sighed again, stroking the dog, who clung to her side. “Now I can cross standing in a turret off my list of things that must be done.”
“You have a list?”
“I live by lists. Lists and spreadsheets. I didn’t even know this one was on the list until I saw yours. Now it goes on and gets checked off in the same day. Pretty good deal for a couple batches of cookies.”
She turned away from the window where the sunlight streamed over her.
He wondered how she could look as if she belonged there.
“And now, as promised, I’ll get out of your way. Though it’s going to be hard to say goodbye to my new best friend.”
“You want him?”
“Stop that.” She flicked a finger on his arm as she walked by. “I bet you have one of those enormous attics with exposed beams just full of treasures.”
“You want to see that, too?”
“A promise is a promise, but I may find myself baking cookies again—which is harder than you’d think. My grandmother’s house has one. I go on attic hunts on my day off sometimes.”
“For what?”
“Treasures. You can get very creative living on a strict budget. I found this terrific old lamp up there a couple weeks ago. A new shade, some rewiring, and voilà.”
He thought of those long, slender fingers. “You rewired a lamp.”
“Google knows all, and for me, that was easier than the cookies. Added benefit, I’m now excused from making dinner on my days off—which had its hits and misses—and encouraged to rewire lamps or refinish an old table where I find them.”
“We probably have old lamps up there.”
“An attic staple. I really do appreciate it, Miles.”
On the main floor, she turned to smile at him again.
“I got cookies out of it.”
“Those are a thanks for knowing what I needed Friday night and making sure I got it even when I didn’t want it. So…” She started to turn to the door, turned back again. “I want to ask you a question, and want to say either answer is absolutely okay.”
“You want to see the basement?”
She laughed. “No—well, yes, but that’s not today’s question. I’d just like to take it completely out of the resort box, so just me is asking just you, if that’s all right.”
“How do I know if it’s all right until you ask the question?”
“Right. It’s a little awkward. The thing is, I’m pretty good at reading people. Well, with one major exception, but I’m pretty good at it. The new kid in school, in the neighborhood, on the playground learns to be. Or I did. So I’m asking if I’m just completely off on this, or if I’m reading there may be a thing, potentially a thing, here.”
She gestured to him, to herself.
“Out of the resort box,” she repeated quickly. “I know when someone higher up the chain’s putting that kind of pressure on, those kinds of moves. I quit a job in college over that. That’s not this, at all. And I don’t mean to add pressure or moves from my side. I wonder if I’m reading it right from your end of things. If you’re interested in me, outside the resort box.”
“We’re in the resort box, Morgan.”
