“Even though you know you’re not.”
“Even though I know that.” She was acutely conscious of his solid presence across the table from her. He sat still, listening, his arms resting on the cool granite of the countertop. His eyes were tired and he had a serious five o’clock shadow, but she’d never seen a sexier man in her life. Something stirred to life inside her. Feelings fluttered and bloomed. Feelings that shouldn’t have been there because this wasn’t a date.
Her gaze met his and she felt an almost electric chemistry. It buzzed across her skin and settled in her chest.
She was glad he was the one talking because right at that moment she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find her voice.
“The life you loved has changed, and it wasn’t your choice. It’s okay to feel upset about that. It’s natural. You’re going through a period of adjustment. What I don’t understand is why you make that harder with ‘Challenge Harriet’?” Why not wait until things feel a little easier?”
“Because I always want life to be easier and that isn’t how it is. My natural instinct is to stay inside and watch back-to-back episodes of Gilmore Girls. If I let myself, then I would walk the dogs and then come home every night and be alone. Fliss was my social life for almost all my life. All my friends are connected with my family. I love Molly, but now she’s marrying Daniel. My friend Matilda has a new baby and she’s spending very little time in New York. I need to get out there and grow a new life. That’s what I’m doing. But the world isn’t set up for shy people.”
“There are advantages to being shy.”
She glanced up again. “Name one.”
“Shy people often have much more sophisticated observational skills. They watch and listen more than the average person, which gives them greater insight into human behavior.”
“But there’s not much point in having insight if you’re too scared to talk to the human on the other end of the behavior. There are days when I’d like to be able to walk through a door and own the room.”
“Are you opening the door first?” His eyes gleamed. “Owning the room isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. And it’s not how much you talk, it’s about what you say.”
“You make it sound great, but when I was at dinner with those guys I said almost nothing. They talked the whole time.”
“About themselves presumably.”
“Pretty much.”
“Insecurity. Trying to convince you what great guys they were. And I think you’re being hard on yourself. If they talked the whole time about themselves, how were you supposed to contribute? From your description the whole evening sounds like the equivalent of—” he fished for an appropriate analogy “—conversational masturbation.”
She burst out laughing. “Glenys thinks it’s the equivalent of taking a two-hour selfie. I guess that’s the cleaner version.”
“Who is Glenys?”
“A friend. A client really, but I think of her more as a friend. Speaking of Glenys, if you don’t mind I’m going to use your kitchen tomorrow to cook some meals for her. And I’ll need to leave Madi with you for a few hours while I take them to her. Normally I’d take her with me, but I want to make sure Glenys goes for a walk and Madi is too bouncy.”
“You walk your clients as well as your dogs?”
The idea of it made her smile. “Glenys had her hip done in the summer and she is supposed to be moving more than she is. She’s scared to go out in the snow and ice, so I take her with me and we hold on to each other.”
“That’s—” He paused, as if he couldn’t quite find the words he needed. “Kind of you. And you cook for her. Sounds like you’re a little more than a dog walker, Harriet Knight.”
“I only do it for Glenys, so don’t spread the word. She lives alone since her husband died and she’s losing weight. I like to take her the occasional meal.”
“Who cooks for you?”
“No one. But I have had dinner out three times in the past couple of weeks and the great thing about conversational masturbation is that you get to focus on the food. I had the most delicious risotto in the first place, a heavenly chocolate dessert in the second—I asked them for the recipe—and a yummy shrimp salad in the third.”
“That was the one where you climbed out
the window.”
“That’s right.”
He reached for her empty mug and stood up. “My sister is back on Monday, and I’m working over the weekend, which means Friday is our last night together.”
He made it sound as if their living arrangements weren’t simply for the convenience of the dog.
“Oh.” There was no reasonable explanation for the disappointment that thudded through her. None at all. She should be pleased to be able to get her life back to normal. “I’m pleased your niece is well enough to travel.”