“Ugh, stop right there or I’ll file a petition to have your family name changed.”
I’m the only girl in the family who runs, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one in the clan who likes it. I love it, actually. The more demanding I am with my body in terms of training, the better I can concentrate. Alas, my love for working out was born out of the necessity to balance my love for sweets. I blame my sister Pippa for this. It’s her legacy. Since I can remember, she instilled three values in me: always look after our family, don’t be ashamed of loving steamy romance books, and never say no to a cupcake.
“I’m a running junkie and proud of it!”
“Well, I’m going to become a gelato junkie soon. I swear the ice cream in Rome is the best ever.”
“Hey, we have great ice cream in San Francisco,” I counter, knowing full well it’s not as great as the gelato in Rome.
“Alice, your agenda to convince me to come home is becoming less subtle every time we talk.” Summer lets out a small laugh.
“What can I say? I miss you, kid. I promise to learn to make gelato like the Italians.”
“Oh, see? That’s my sister. Not the weirdo who wants to run the marathon. Crap, I have to go.”
“Sure. Take care, kid.”
“Oh, last thing. Go on a date. It’ll help getting Nate out of your system.”
“I’m seriously considering buying cats instead. Dating is so exhausting. Going out with so many incompatible people while hoping to find the one is like a less violent version of The Hunger Games.”
“Well, when you put it like that, cats sound like a better idea. Bye, Alice.”
After she clicks off, I wonder when I turned into such a big pile of mush. I blame it on so many of my siblings being engaged, married, or parents. Must have triggered my mushy gene.
Heading back inside, I’m mentally preparing to throw myself into work when my phone beeps with a message from Nate. We exchanged numbers on Saturday.
Nate: Talked to the head of the division yesterday, and I just received a questionnaire for you from the producing team. I’ll forward you the e-mail. They want more info, but they’re interested.
I jump up and down with joy, which garners curious looks from the crew. He e-mails me the questionnaire seconds later.
Alice: Got it, thank you. I really appreciate this, Nate.
Nate: You’re welcome. Any plans tonight? Time for a drink?
I stare at the screen, trying to read through the lines, and also to decide if a drink would be a good idea. Sure, we used to go for drinks and chat for hours whenever he was in town, but that was before.
Alice: Working. It’s very busy for a Tuesday.
Nate: Is this code for “Drinks aren’t a good idea”?
Alice: Not at all.
Nate: Immune to my charms already?
Alice: I move fast. You snooze, you lose.
The great part about written communication? No one can see my facial expression. Right now, I’m positively beaming.
Nate: Drinks shouldn’t be a problem, then. When do you have time?
Theoretically, owning my business means I can take time off whenever I want. Practically, I work nonstop. But Nate will leave in a few weeks, and who knows when I’ll see him again. Yes, things have changed, but I won’t allow that to overshadow the years of camaraderie and friendship.
Alice: Thursday in the evening sound good? The kitchen closes at ten o’clock.
Nate: Sure. I’ll pick you up.
Alice: I can come by cab.