Page 36 of The Americana Playbook

I rock on my heels. “Good money comes with my kind of work.”

“Better make sure that prenup is ironclad, Fitzy.” Parker winks.

I step into the kitchen, flipping on a light. “I’m not insulting you by making you sign something.”

“You should. I did.”

“Yourparentsdid.” I open a cabinet. “Do you want something to?—”

“Why do you keep the glasses so far from the fridge?”

I shut the door. “I don’t know. I just do.”

“Mugs should go there since it’s space above the coffee maker. And glasses here.” Parker walks around the marble island to the cabinet flanking the stainless steel fridge. “Notwhatever junky protein bars these are. They belong in the trash.”

I lean against the counter. “You’re moving in, so you can set things up however you like. But you aren’t throwing out my protein bars.”

“You know, I might have to rethink the whole moving in before we tie the knot. I’m old fashioned. And I’m still not technically your wife.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I quip. “If it walks like a wife and nags like a wife…”

Parker chucks the bar she has in her hand, but I catch it and tear open the package, biting the corner off. I smile with a full mouth.

She scoffs and turns back to the cabinet, reaching inside. “Are these?—”

“I hope they’re still your favorite.” I swallow my large bite and nod at the jar of yellow Starburst.

Parker rotates it in her hand, staring between the jar and me. “You…” She shakes her head. “You’re seriously fine with me living here?”

“Do you think I would’ve eaten twenty packs of Starburst to get that many yellows if I didn’t?” I toss the wrapper in the trash. “Did you plan on this being along-distancemarriage? Where I am is where you should be.”

Forever, I manifest.

“You can have upstairs to yourself. I’ll show you.” Tipping my head so she’ll follow, I walk toward the living room, but I have to wait for Parker, who, much to my delight, opens the jar and takes a handful of Starbust.

“There’s a bathroom and an office down there.” I point before gliding my arm in the opposite direction to the door beside the staircase. “And that’s my room. You’ll be up here. Come.”

Parker’s footsteps sound behind me, but by the time I reach my door, they grow silent. Looking back, I find her standing at the top of the stairs, staring at where the carpeted floor of the landing bleeds into the runner. My face twists in confusion as she backs up slowly before returning to the first floor.

“Can I have downstairs?”

“You haven’t seen this room.” I lean against the banister. “The view is insane.”

Parker’s eyes trace the black, iron railing. “Downstairs would work better for me.”

“Why?”

“It just does.” She shrugs.

“Upstairs is technically the primary. It’s bigger.”

“What made you think I’m one of those girls who thinks bigger is always better?” Parker pauses at my door. “It’s what you work with that matters.”

I scratch my chin. “You want me to give up my room.”

“You’re the one who said upstairs was better anyway,” she retorts, motioning at the door. “Do you mind?”

I pad down the stairs. “I guess I should get used to this.”

---