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“He’ll never know. Girlfriends? Anyone serious?”

“Wow, you really don’t know each other, huh?”

I give her a look over my shoulder. “You’ve known him a couple of decades. How easy do you think he is to get to know?”

“Good point,” she says, pursing her lips. “So, girlfriends…oh yes.”

I spin around, sudsy water dripping all over the floor. “You don’t have to say it like that!”

She laughs. “You asked!”

“Because I thought you were going to tell me he was a nerd! Practically celibate!”

She laughs harder. “Your face right now, sweetie…Okay, it was like this. High school, not so much with the ladies. As I said, he was two years younger, and sixteen-year-old girls aren’t so much into the fourteen-year-old boy who aces every single test.”

“But?” I ask, my teeth clenched.

“In college, though,” she continues, “things changed. Suddenly that two-year difference didn’t bug the girls quite so much. Suddenly smart was sexy. Didn’t hurt that he had a late growth spurt and discovered the gym.”

I dry my hands on the towel. “I can’t believe this. I’m dating a playboy.”

“Yes and no. In college he was definitely…well, he didn’t tell me. I was an old married lady to him back then. But, putting the pieces together, I’d say there were a lot more nightly companions than there were serious girlfriends.”

“What about after college?” I ask, both dying to know and not wanting to know.

“He settled a bit in law school. Had one pretty serious girlfriend, although they split after graduation when she went back home to Texas, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Pam. Do me a solid and tell me he’s been a monk since then?”

She merely smiles. “Like I said, he doesn’t tell me much.”

I sigh and turn back to the sink.

The sound of the front door opening prevents any more snooping into Andrew’s history. Just as well. I’m not sure I want to hear much more about his love life.

I tense a little as I glance toward him, worried how he’ll feel about seeing me, a homemade dinner, and his sister-in-law all in the same room.

Not to worry. He doesn’t even look at me. Andrew sets down his briefcase and duffel bag, then goes straight for Pam, pulling her close and kissing the side of her head. “Good to see you, Pammy.”

Pammy. I can’t get a Georgie, but she can get a Pammy? Oh well. At least I know there’s hope for him yet.

“Thanks for making the time to see me,” she says, giving his chest a sisterly little pat.

“Always. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you.”

“Wasn’t a problem. I made friends with your girl Georgie here.”

I bite my lip a little, wondering how he feels about his family calling me his Georgie, and I brace for the chilly, back off eye contact.

His face is unsmiling when he looks at me—shocker—but his gaze is warm, and maybe a little…happy?

“Georgiana,” he says.

“Andy.”

He glances at the mess on the counter. “What did you do to my kitchen?”

“I was cooking, but it went badly. Should have stuck with soup. Pam had to rescue me. I didn’t realize you had plans, and now I’m intruding and leaving a mess.”

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