Page 39 of Just Trouble

Rafe laughs, unrepentant.

We’re left to peruse the menu after being informed of the specials and I look him in the eye. “When exactly are you coming to visit?”

He cringes at the suggestion just the way I knew he would. Rafe is an urban creature. I’m not sure he’d survive even the drive to Empire. All those open fields. He’s twitching because I’m thinking of them. “I will. One day.”

“You said you would come last summer. You promised.”

“Is that why you’re here? To harass me?”

“No, I just miss your sparkling company.”

He smiles again. “I’m guessing there’s not a decent hotel in town.”

“A motel.” I wait for him to grimace. “But I have a house and a sofa-bed.”

“Be still, my heart.” His eyes glint. “Is there a copier, at least?”

Once again, I’m blushing. Rafe and I almost got it on once, when we were articling together at the firm where he is now partner, in the copy room, on the copier. We were tired and desperate and stressed, and while it was fun for a few moments, we both agreed to cease and desist.

I do not recommend copier machines for intimate liaisons, by the way. They have hard corners and buttons. It does, though, add a certainje ne sais quoiif one of the participants inadvertently hits Copy. I thought I was going to get sunburn in a very personal location and that’s what brought us back to reality.

“We have inkjet printers,” I say and shake my head sadly.

He laughs heartily, making more than one person turn to look.

“I should despise you for that,” I say and he grins.

“But it’s just not possible between friends with so much common ground.” He picks up his menu. “Even though Idid make partner six months ago. Any news of your pending partnership from the hinterland?”

“You know there isn’t.” I hear my dad telling me again about ten years of service before being offered a junior partnership. I sigh. “I’ll be forty before it happens, if it even does then.”

“I’ll be running this place by then,” he says with relish.

He probably will be.

I glare at him.

He smiles. “But my infinite charm keeps you from resenting me. That is friendship.”

“Nah. Your burn rate makes me pity you.”

“I like nice things. It’s not a crime.”

“You can’t possibly be earning enough to afford that suit.”

He holds up his fingers.

“Five? You havefivesuits like that?”

“One for each day of the work week. I think I need another, just to mix it up.”

“How muchdoyou make?”

He drops his voice to a whisper to confess and I feel my eyes fly open.

“That’s outrageous.”

He brushes an invisible speck of lint from his lapel. “I’m worth every dime and don’t you ever doubt it.”

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