Liz just looks at me. Skip gives me the saddest eyes ever.
I exhale, pull Skip back on my lap, and glare at Liz. “I haven’t. Not someone I’m interested in. Not someone I could be with. Not like that.”
“Okay . . .” Liz eyes me cautiously, like I’m a bomb she’s trying to defuse. “But you have met—”
“He’s impossible. He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s this huge, burly, beast of a man who could squash me like a bug. And I’m supposed to work with him for the next few months. Months during which, can I just remind you, I will also be applying to be a foster mother to two kids I really want to adopt someday. So, when I say I have a lot on my plate, I mean that this is the worst possible time for me to meet a man I’m physically attracted to who’s not even physically attractive, so I’m not attracted to him. End of story.”
I press the “play” button on the remote with a little too much force. It doesn’t respond, so I pound it three more times before tossing it on the coffee table in frustration.
And then, because I hate that Liz accidentally snipped the blue wire and I exploded like an emotion bomb all over the room and I hate that there are tears prickling at the back of my eyes, I pick Skip up and cuddle him close to my face, breathing in his clean doggy scent and getting a face full of pug fur. I don’t even mind because at least then I have an excuse for my eyes to be watering.
For a long moment, Liz says nothing.
Then she gets up, takes both our wineglasses into the other room. I guess for refills, because when she returns she has the box of wine tucked under her arm, like she decided that would just be easier.
She pours me more wine and says softly, “Yeah, that is a lot,” as she presses the wineglass into my hand.
I take a sip, kind of wishing she’d gotten me a straw so I could sip wine while still hiding behind my dog.
“Who is this guy who’s got you all tied into knots anyway?”
I set the glass aside and lean my head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Dr. Maximillian Ramsey. He’s—”
“Oh, yeah, I know who he is.” She blows out a whistle. “Yeah, you are so full of shit. Because he is not well-spoken or kind.”
I tip my head up to look at her. “You know him?”
“I know of him. I’ve got a friend in the registrar’s office, Anika. And every semester they have an office pool on who is going to have the most students drop their class. He won so many years in a row they voted to exclude him from the running.” She pins me with a look. “This is the guy that’s got you all tied up in knots?”
“I’m not tied up in knots,” I protest weakly. Man, I am such a wuss. But then it hits me and I sit up, pointing a finger at her. “You know what? I’m really not tied up in knots.”
“That’s what you just said.”
“No, what I mean is I’m not really tied up in knots. This is just an illusion. It’s like a fantasy, right? I mean, I barely know the guy. We’ve only spoken three times! So what if there was chemistry. Or whatever. That’s not real. That doesn’t matter.”
“Ooo-kaay . . .” Liz says, sounding doubtful.
“I mean, I had chemistry with Clive when we first met. And it’s not like that lasted. That’s what I mean about this just being an illusion. Once I get to know the guy, I’ll see what he’s really like and then physical attraction won’t matter anyway. It’s not like I can avoid him. I’ll just have to grit my teeth and muscle past the attraction until I get to know him well enough to realize he’s a jerk.”
“I thought we’d already agreed he’s a jerk?”
“Oh, he’s definitely a jerk. But I mean, once I realize he’s not a sexy jerk but a jerk jerk.”
Liz tips her head to the side. “Tell me again why you can’t avoid him.”
I explain as quickly as I can about the McPherson Fellowship.
Liz lets out another one of her low whistles. “Wow.”
“I know, Clive is such a jerk for making me do this.”
“Um, no. I meant, ‘Wow, the McPherson Fellowship.’ That’s a really big deal.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I mean, I knew Ramsey was considered one of the smartest guys on campus, but that’s hard core. He must be brilliant. What’s his field of research?”
“Something about dirt.”
