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I nod, though I suppose it’s happened for some people.
“And what about you?” I ask before finishing off my last bite of Reuben.
“What about me?”
“Are you dating anyone?”
“No.” He tilts his head toward his shoulder, and he smirks. “Nothing steady anyway.”
Another snort escapes my nose. “I’m not surprised.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I laugh. “I mean I’m not surprised that you’re doing a lot of not-steady dating.”
“I didn’t say I was doing a lot of it,” he defends pitifully.
“Oh, c’mon, Milo,” I retort. “Back in the day, you always had a revolving door of pretty girls. When you were living with us, you once came home from one date, only to go on three more in the same night. With three different girls.”
He chokes on his water. “I did not.”
“You definitely did.” I nod, eyes serious.
“How the hell did I even fit that much activity in?”
“You and Evan were in your senior year of high school, and you said it was, and I quote, conditioning.”
“No!”
“Getting in shape,” I say, using finger quotes, “for prom.” The vivid nature of my memories of him would probably be more disturbing if he weren’t so horrified by his own actions.
“Well, fuck. What an asshole, seventeen-year-old-kid kind of thing to say.” He runs a hand through the dark locks on top of his head. “I have to admit,” he says with a tiny smile. “I’m a little disappointed in myself.”
I shrug.
“How in the hell do you remember this kind of shit?”
Because, when it comes to you, I remember everything. Sigh.
“I don’t know… So, yeah, it’s safe to say I’m not surprised you have fuck buddies now.”
“Fuck buddies?” he coughs, choking on his water.
“Yeah. A fuck buddy. Friends with benefits. That sort of thing.”
“Jesus,” he says through a chuckle. “I know what a fuck buddy is. Just hearing the words leave your mouth is…well, disconcerting.”
I roll my eyes. “Surely, I’m not the only person in New York saying fuck buddy.”
“Yeah, but you’re Evan’s little sister.”
A deep sigh leaves my lungs. “I’m not thirteen anymore, Milo.”
“That’s becoming more apparent by the minute.”
God, is he always going to see me as Evan’s baby sister?
What is it going to take for him to really realize I’m not a little girl anymore?
Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off over my head, and I spout the words without a second thought. “Why don’t you help me with more than just a job?”
“Help you with more than a job?”
“Yes. Help me navigate the New York dating scene. You said yourself I’m not really in touch with it anymore. I need someone with the inside track.”
It’s a shot in the damn dark, but one I have to take.
For the love of God, what if he says yes?
“Jesus,” he says on a sigh. “Help you date?”
I nod, and he scowls slightly.
I don’t know what to make of his expression, but after a few seconds of silence, he finally makes up his mind. “How about we start with connecting you with publishing houses and go from there?”
It isn’t a yes.
But it isn’t a no either…
Maybe he’ll be more open to it the more time we spend together.
“Fine,” I agree and point a teasing index finger toward his face. “But you better have some damn good connections, buddy.”
He winks. “Trust me, kid. I’ve got the right connections you need to land your dream job.”
Kid. He called me kid.
Every single piece of me knows I should be irritated, but for some strange reason, the way it flows off his tongue with affection and amusement, I don’t hate it all.
Milo
“Mr. Ives, your nine-thirty just called to say he’s running twenty minutes behind schedule,” my assistant Clara’s voice echoes from the intercom on my desk. “And just so you know, Caplin Hawkins has called twice.”
Of course he has.
“Thanks, Clara,” I respond. I haven’t spoken to Cap since I saw him at the hospital, but when it comes to him, there’s always a calm before the storm. He may be silent for weeks at a time, but when he decides to make contact, he always comes on strong.
Women, I fear, see it as part of his appeal.
I toss the file for GlossBit, the firmware company I was scheduled to meet with at nine thirty, onto my desk and pick up my phone to scroll through some of my publishing contacts.
I never have much time during a busy workday, so the twenty minutes I’ve just been granted is the perfect time for trying to figure out who would be the best fit for a connection for Maybe.
Or it would have been, if my phone didn’t start ringing in my hand.
Incoming FaceTime Call Caplin Hawkins.
Jesus Christ, this guy is like a bad rash.
Despite my better judgment, I tap accept and then transfer the call to my computer.
“Goddamn, Milo. You’re so hard to get ahold of, I was almost fooled into thinking you’re someone important,” Cap greets. “But, well…” He gestures at me and the computer and the fact that he has me on the line mockingly. “Apparently not.” I give him the finger, but he pays it no mind as he conferences Evan in.
