Julian had never told anyone about his goal-setting system. It would probably sound completely idiotic out loud. But he got the sense . . . well, he couldn’t help but feel as if she were leaving for good, never to return, so what harm would it do to reveal this part of himself? She’d slipped onto her butt and cried in front of him in the space of twenty minutes. Maybe a part of him hoped admitting to his peculiar behavior would make them even. Make her . . . feel better.
Which was troublingly important to him.
“I only have two drinks at the end of a semester. The rest of the year, I allow myself the whiskey if I’ve checked the day’s boxes.” He’d been right. It did sound idiotic out loud, but it was how he remained glued together. Time had always been the stitches running through the fabric of his life, and he had nothing but gratitude for the structure it afforded him. “For instance, if I arrived everywhere on time. To class, to meetings. If I completed my workload and planned for the following day. Cleared my inbox. Showered. Then I have the drink.”
She stared at him. Not judgmentally. Just taking it all in.
“I’ve adjusted my routine for the summer . . .” he added unnecessarily, just to fill the silence. “I guess you could say I’m in vacation mode.”
An abrupt giggle snuck out of her mouth.
And satisfaction plunged from his neck down deep into his belly.
He’d made her laugh. Yes, but now she just looked a little . . . sad?
“Julian, I don’t think there are two more different people in this whole world.” Again, she didn’t say those words as a judgment. More of a musing. Or an observation. “Do you?”
“No,” he felt forced to admit. “I don’t.”
Oddly, that didn’t mean he wanted her to leave.
His gaze ticked between Hallie and the UNCORKED advertisement. “They really named their store UNCORKED and moved in right beside a shop called Corked?”
She threw up her hands, as if relieved to finally have someone’s attention regarding the matter. “Yes.”
“I’m surprised the local business association allowed that.”
“I’ve emailed them on seven separate occasions. My last one was in all caps!”
He hummed, not totally surprised to find his fingers twitching.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked slowly, turning slightly to glance over her shoulder. “You look like you’re trying to visualize a new backsplash.”
He almost said nothing and walked her to the door. But he’d already outlined the mind games he played with himself. What was the sense in holding back now? After all, he weirdly, confusingly, wasn’t quite ready to let her leave. “I don’t like when things are out of order like this. A shop moving in and presenting a direct threat to the business next door should not have been allowed to happen.”
“I agree.”
He especially didn’t like the whole situation making Hallie cry, but he’d leave that part out. “When things are unfair or disordered, I tend to . . .”
“What?”
“I have something of a competitive streak. A small one. For instance, last year a Jeopardy! contestant gave their answer after the buzzer and was given credit. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, but he went on to win Final Jeopardy with a margin of one hundred dollars. You see, a small breach in fairness can cause a snowball effect.” He paused to gauge her reaction, deciding she looked more curious than judgmental. “A lot of us contacted the show and suggested . . . rather strongly that the other contestant be allowed to compete again. They relented.”
“Oh my gosh.” She rocked back on her heels. “You’re a Jeopardy! groupie. I always wondered, who are these people? Who feels so passionate about holding this game show accountable? It’s you.”
He scoffed. “There are thousands of us.” Seconds ticked by. “Hundreds, at least.”
She very visibly bit down on a smile. “What does this have to do with UNCORKED?”
The offer to help sat right on his tongue, but he couldn’t do that. Helping would mean spending more time with her, and he’d already decided that was not a good idea, despite the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop prolonging their acquaintance. Hadn’t she been on her way out the door a few minutes ago? He’d been the one to stop her. “You might not be able to stop UNCORKED from operating, but you can help the underdog compete.”
“You’re saying that jamming bark into their disco ball isn’t a solution?”
“What?”
She pressed her lips together, eyes twinkling. “Prank calls are out, too?”
“Hallie, my God. Have you been prank calling this new wine store?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “You are the type to sit down with Lorna and find ways to save money. Or revamp her brand. My approach is less logical, more reactionary. Like I said, we are the two most opposite people in the world.”