Page 38 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

“Not sure if Marlow will be there. She said she will, but . . .” She looks around conspiratorially. “Cammie and I have our suspicions that she’s secretly dating someone.”

She brings a spoonful of soup to her lips and grins before shoving it in her mouth. There’s something in her eyes—an amusement—and I want to ask her about it, but I don’t.

“This soup is so good,” she says, the words punctuated with more gusto than I’ve ever heard over a liquid.

I might have ulterior motives—to see her, feed her, make her smile. It worked, and I give myself a mental pat on the back.I did good.

“She’s single,” I say. “She doesn’t have to sneak around.”

She’s quick to shrug, and then using her spoon to talk, she says, “That’s my point. Why is she sneaking around when she doesn’t have to?”

I think I got lost somewhere in this conversation when I got distracted by Tealey’s smile.

She says, “Marlow loves to talk about her dates; the good, the bad, and the ridiculous. She loves to share the details, and we love to hear them. That’s like our group M.O. when it comes to dating. No detail is off-limits. But she hasn’t said a peep in a week or so.”

“Maybe she hasn’t gone on a date worth talking about this week.”

She plants her elbows on the desk, resting her chin in her hands. “You’re close with her.”Not that close.“Do you know anything?”

Only that she roped me into some scheme to get an apartment out of the deal . . . A hookup possibly the other night, but nothing out of the ordinary. “No.”

“Bummer. I was hoping for insight.” Though she starts eating again, her gaze keeps flicking to me. She then takes hold of her water bottle, twisting the cap on and off, seeming to contemplate.

“Something on your mind, Bell?”

As if the acknowledgment comes out of left field, she pulls her attention back to me. “I’m told I ask too many questions.” She sighs softly. “Hazard of the job.”

“Are you wanting to ask me a question?”

“I don’t mean to pry.”

“You can ask me anything. That’s what roommates do. We pry into each other’s lives.”

Under rolling laughter, she asks, “Is that what they do? Pry into each other’s lives?”

“I don’t know.” I laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had one. But I imagine getting to know the person you live with isn’t an intrusion. It’s a part of building a friendship. Right?”

She thinks about it. “The other night was nice.” She looks down, shaking her head. “Not that we’ll be spending much time together after I move in. You have a life. Your work. I know you’re super busy. I just meant?—”

“I know what you mean, and I’m looking forward to spending more time with you as well.”

I watch her smile bloom. “Thanks.”

That smile is one of the reasons I came here, but now I’m starting to think I’m driving this friendship off the rails entirely. Nothing good could come from us hooking up, yet I’ve put myself in a position as though it could.

What am I doing?

The last thing I want to do is hurt Tealey, and that’s what will happen if we date. Romantic relationships aren’t my thing. They require more time than I have to give. The sound of a bell that needs tuning buzzes, and I stand abruptly. “I should get back to work and let you do the same.”

Disappointment contorts her expression. “So soon?” Then she checks the clock on her desk. “I guess you do.”

Ducking out from the cubicle, I take a few steps, needing the space between us to allow more rational thoughts. She stands, resting her hip against the side of the short, upholstered wall, and a smile anchors the stars in her eyes. “Whoever said divorce lawyers can’t be noble is just plain wrong.”

“Do people say that?”

“Rumor on the street.” She rocks back on her heels, giggling softly, and tucks her hands into her pockets.

“I guess if they thought otherwise, I’d be out of business.”

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