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“Leave him alone,” Marley orders our friends as she starts ushering everyone toward the door. She winks at me and I give her a laser burn with my eyes, causing her to trot over.

“You realize you’re leaving me with a huge mess in the name of futile matchmaking,” I say when she grins big and mischievous at me.

“I know. Sucks. But you’ll thank me one day, promise.”

“Uh-huh.” I know my friend. Her grand plan is to force me and Andrew to spend time together.

But I know him better than she does. The man struggles to tolerate my company in the best of circumstances. He’s certainly not going to jump at the chance to clean up takeout containers, paper plates, and a butt-load of wine bottles.

I hug my friends goodbye, apologizing for bailing on them two nights in a row and promising that I’ll see them tomorrow. Brody’s hug is just a little too lingering, and I’m suddenly extra glad that cleanup duty’s given me an excuse to hang back. I don’t know what’s happened to make Brody renew his efforts, but I’m finding it kind of exhausting.

Finally, finally, my noisy, wine-buzzed friends are out the door and I exhale a long breath, knowing there’s one more goodbye to get through and it won’t involve a hug, lingering or otherwise.

But when I turn around, Andrew’s not right there, waiting to exchange barbs.

Instead he’s opening and closing all of the cabinets in the room. Looking for his briefcase, no doubt. Which he’ll find in three, two…

He pulls it out of the cabinet and holds it up, giving me a look. You’re ridiculous.

But he doesn’t say it out loud. And instead of dashing for the door, he merely sets it to the side and continues opening and closing cabinets.

“What are you looking for?” I ask.

“Garbage bags.”

I blink. “Can’t take it anymore, huh? Going to off me and drag my body out of the building in a big black bag?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Georgiana.” There it is. “You’re small enough that I could just put your body down the trash chute. Far more practical.”

I laugh. “Did you just make a joke?”

He looks up. “Are there trash bags in here or no?”

“You don’t rent the community space often, huh?”

“Can’t say I’ve had much occasion to, no.”

I walk to my purse and pull out the roll of garbage bags I brought with me. “Well, spectacular as the room and view are, pretty much nothing else is included. Gotta bring your own cleanup supplies.”

Andrew reaches out to take the garbage bag roll, but I don’t release it. “You don’t have to help me clean, you know.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

He pulls the roll from my grip and looks down at it for a second before tossing it on the counter.

“Change your mind about cleaning?” I watch him a little bit warily, because it feels like something’s shifting. I feel his focus a hundred percent on me. He’s considering something, and I’m torn between nervousness and anticipation.

“For the moment, yes.” He walks to the sideboard and fishes among the bottles of white wine in the ice bucket. “You were drinking the pinot grigio, yes?”

“Yeah.” I watch in puzzlement as he pours a glass, then a glass of red for himself.

“You hardly had one glass,” he murmurs, walking back to me and handing it over. “Too busy flitting around, playing hostess.”

“Because I was the hostess,” I say defensively.

He meets my eyes. “I wasn’t criticizing, Georgiana.”

“For once.”

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