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“Nah.” That seemed exhausting.
Robert took away my empty beer bottle and put it back on the coaster. “Did she talk about her brother’s death?”
“A little. Not much. When he came up, she cried.”
Robert’s long lashes fluttered on his cheek. “Your poor mama. No child should see something like that.”
“I want to know more about him, but I don’t want to hurt her.” I wished Robert hadn’t taken the beer bottle. I wanted to pick at the label some more. “I’ve hurt enough people—whether they know it or not.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Robert lifted one neatly shaped eyebrow. “So are you still friendly with Leslie?”
I frowned. “I haven’t seen anyone from Kingsley since summer started.” Spending time with them felt weird without Adam and Sarah around. “You’ve got all that filing for me to do, and we’re headed into the final stretch with your drag documentary. I’d rather be here working with you than hanging out with them anyway.”
Robert shook his finger at me. “Liar.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re ashamed.” Robert chucked up my chin. “I can’t fix that, but I do know how to turn your frown upside down.”
I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that.”
“Come to the club tonight. All you need are some hot men rubbing against you on the dance floor. You’ll be good as new.”
“Get real.”
“I am real!” Robert grinned, his dark eyes shining gleefully. “Come out tonight. Shake your ass, baby! Get a groove on!”
I sank back into the couch. “Nah. I’m okay.”
“Nope. You’re coming. I’m tired of this moping. Besides…” Robert trailed off tauntingly, a small, self-satisfied grin on his face. “Daniel will be there.”
Heat flooded my cheeks.
“Mmm-hmm, that’s what I thought.” Robert smirked and kissed my temple. “No more protesting now, huh?”
“Shuddup.”
“I know what boys like,” Robert sang.
“Do you know what guys want?”
“You know I do.”
I could have kept the banter up for however long it took Robert to get distracted and start another conversation, but I felt guilty that Robert so often paid me to do almost nothing.
“Anyway, all that filing won’t wait forever.” I stood up slowly, stretching my stiff legs.
Robert groaned and flopped back on the sofa. “I’ll die of boredom if I have to file even one page. I swear on my sweet, sinful soul. I willdie.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, patting his knee. “That’s why you hired me, remember?”
As I entered the guest-room-turned-office, I smiled at Barry, who sat at Robert’s messy desk. I grabbed my Minolta 35mm, my second favorite camera, and snapped a quick picture of him.
Butter-yellow light from the window glinted off his dark, bald head. His sky-blue polo shirt stretched handsomely over his broad shoulders and chest, and his strong biceps popped out of the short sleeves. He’d kicked his bare feet up on the desk as he leaned back in Robert’s leather chair, talking to someone on the phone. He grinned at me, bright white teeth set in dark skin.
“Sure, I’ll cover the shift. No problem,” he said as my shutter clicked again.
Dropping into the chair across from him, I carefully moved a few piles of papers out from under his heels. He lifted his feet to accommodate me.
