“It actually sounded mutual. I mean, I think the cheerleader’s still hot for him, but she was really kind of cool about the whole thing. It was the most civilized breakup I’ve ever heard of between two kids in high school.”
“Huh.” I went back to the computer screen and hit send on the file, but I really wasn’t seeing the page. Suddenly all I wanted to do was to get out of the newspaper office. I didn’t know where I wanted to go, but I knew it wasn’t here.
“Q.” Jake spoke quietly, ignoring Gia, who was still chattering away to us as she flipped through the hard mock-up of the paper. “I get it.”
“What?” I was flustered. “What do you get?”
“I saw your face when Gia mentioned Leo. I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. That night, at Anders’ party, it felt like there was something between you two.” He smiled a little sadly. “No dude is that hostile over a girl he doesn’t care about.”
“But he doesn’t.” I shook my head. “It’s all messy and complicated and ... I don’t know. But I need to work that stuff out, Jake. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you say. But don’t sweat it. I promise, I’ll nurse my broken heart in private. We can hold onto our working relationship.”
“That’s a relief.” I stood up and gave him a hug, and for the first time since our date, it felt relaxed and spontaneous. “Who else is going to be Woodward to my Bernstein?”
“Hey, wait a minute. I thoughtIwas Bernstein.”
“No way.” I feigned horror. “I’m the only one who could pull off being married to Nora Ephron.”
Jake spread his hands. “You got me there.”
I picked up my books and paused by the door. “Thanks for being so cool about this, Jake. You really are a great guy.”
He made a face, but I could tell he was joking. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get out of here. Go home and think about what you just threw away.”
“I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep tonight, thinking about it.”
“Oh, hey, you’re going now?” Gia suddenly seemed to realize she’d been missing something. “Don’t worry, I’ll help Jake close up. See you around, Quinn.”
“Yep.” Jake winked at me. “See you around, Q.”
“Hey, I’m home.” I slammed the front door behind me and hung my bag on the newel post.
My dad was coming down the steps. “Hey, kiddo. Long day at the salt mines?”
“Yeah, you know how Wednesdays are, getting the paper wrapped up. Who made dinner, you or Mom?”
He smirked. “You’re in luck tonight. Yours truly was the chef du jour. The pharmacist of the house sat there and drank wine the whole time I cooked.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “There’s a covered plate for you in the oven. Beef bourguignon.”
“Have I told you that you’re my favorite father?” I stood on my toes to kiss his cheek and followed him into the kitchen.
“What a coincidence. You’re my favorite daughter.”
“That would mean a lot more if I had any siblings.” I picked up a potholder, opened the oven door and reached in to retrieve my plate. “Where’s Mom?”
My father’s face got a little red, and he cast his eyes up to the ceiling. “Ah, she’s upstairs. I was helping her with ...” His voice trailed off. “Um, something in the bedroom.”
“Ewww.” I clapped my hands over my ears. “Just stop. Yuck, yuck, yuck. Don’t you two realize you’ve been married, like, forever? And you have an impressionable daughter?”
Dad raised one eyebrow at me. “What can I say, sweetie? I still got it. And I did tell you Mom was drinking wine, right? Oh, and she thinks my cooking is totally sexy.”
I pushed the plate back. “Okay, I’ve officially lost my appetite.”
“Seriously?” My father reached for my food, and I curled my body around it.
“No. That was just for effect. Don’t touch this. It’s delicious.”
I had just taken my last bite of beef—and it really was amazing, tender and bursting with flavor—when my phone buzzed.
