Page 126 of Clara Knows Best

Jesse had prepared mentally for this encounter, and the shock value fell flat. Hart was savvy, but a lot of it was smoke and mirrors. “Both,” he said.

“So why do you need my help?” Hart asked impatiently. Probably disappointed that Jesse hadn’t turned red or burst into tears. “Knowing Clara, all you have to do is sit back and relax.”

That got his attention. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t know,” Hart realized, the gleam of satisfaction returning to his eye. “I thought you must be onto her, but you still don’t have a clue.”

“About what?” Jesse asked, with great self-control.

Hart had signaled to a waitress, who came now to take their orders. “Get whatever you want,” he said to Jesse.

The remark was calculated to annoy, and it worked. “Club sandwich,” he said, without looking at the menu, and out of habit checked his watch. He had a full hour before he had to get to work.

“And to drink?” she asked pleasantly.

“Tap water.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Great choice.”

Hart took his time and flirted while he ordered, and Jesse’s impatience grew. Finally, the woman left, and he leaned back in his seat, saying, “All right, tell me what I don’t have a clue about.”

“That would take too long.”

“Hart, I swear—”

“All right,” the little wonderboy relented. “Let’s see—how long has it been since you first moved in with us?”

“Sixteen years.”

“Well, then Clara’s been madly in love with you for sixteen years.”

More nonsense calculated to throw him for a loop. “No, she hasn’t.”

“Yeah,” Hart said with a dry laugh. “She has.”

“Then this is the first I’m hearing about it,” Jesse said doubtfully.

“That’s because you have a Clara-shaped blind spot. You probably developed it as a defense mechanism because she was so freakin’ annoying. But ever since she was a kid she’s been telling anyone who will listen that she’s going to marry you.”

He told himself that Hart was just jerking his chain, but he was starting to buy it anyway. “She has, really?”

“Yeah. Didn’t make any secret of it. Sure, she shut up about it when you went dark, but then she went and double-majored in Spanish, so I’m guessing she still had you on a back burner.”

“I didn’t know she did that,” he said, feeling numb.

“Fashion and Jesse Flores. That’s my sister in a nutshell.”

“Huh,” Jesse said cleverly.

“Why do you think she’s just been hanging around at home the past year, not knowing what to do with her life? Same reason her dating life in New York was such a nightmare to witness: her little brain’s in limbo because the only plan she ever had didn’t come to fruition.”

“Limbo?” Jesse echoed.

“Limbo. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think she realized it. But if you showed up on her doorstep tomorrow and asked her to marry you, she wouldn’t hesitate. And no one who knows her would bat an eyelash.”

“Your parents—”

“Wouldn’t bat an eyelash,” Hart repeated heavily.

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