“You think I’m a hooker.”
“What? No. Of course not. I think that it’s possible rich men enjoy spending time with you and buying you things.”
“I told you I wasn’t that kind of working girl.” She put her hands flat on the table and stared at him. “I earned it in a perfectly legal way. When I was in Italy, I met several wives of incredibly rich men. Old-fashioned men who didn’t want their wives to know too much about what was going on, so they conducted business in English.”
She reached for her bottle of beer. “I’m talking slightly older women who would never download a language app. Once I figured out the problem, I offered to be their instructor. On the surface, we were just friends, spending the afternoon together, having a little girl talk. In truth, I was giving them intensive classes in English. Their husbands made sure they didn’t have access to a lot of cash but they encouraged shopping. Lots of shopping.”
He swore under his breath. “They paid you in handbags.”
“Unusual currency, but one that works for me. I know a few reputable places to resell the bags. They’re my nest egg for the future. They’re in excellent condition and I have all the documentation. Once I figure out where I can store them, I’ll have them shipped over to me.”
“They’re not with you now?”
“Only a handful of them are. I can’t keep them in the house.”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “Because you’re concerned your mom would take them?”
“Yes, and she would sell them without doing the research so she would get a ridiculously low price. This way is safer.”
“You’re a constant surprise.”
She didn’t ask if he meant that in a good way or a bad way.
“I’m doing my best to figure it all out,” she told him.
“I feel bad about those women in Italy.”
“One of the consequences of marrying money.” She smiled. “I’m talking serious money. Like a different planet level.”
“You’re saying they got what they wanted?”
“I’m saying when you marry money, you earn every penny.”
“Wasn’t marrying money your plan?”
“When I was younger. I like to think I’ve learned my lesson.”
Her mother never had and watching Joanne prowl for yet another wealthy benefactor was depressing.
“We need to change the subject,” she said firmly. “Do you date?”
“No.”
“You don’t want to think about your answer?”
He flashed her a smile. “I don’t need to think about it. No.”
“Is it too soon?”
“Somewhat. I work at home, I’m not a guy who enjoys clubs. It’s tough to meet someone.”
“Want me to keep a look out for single women?” she asked, only half teasing.
“No, thanks. I can get my own girl.”
“You just said you couldn’t.”
“I take it back.”
She wondered what Adam would be like on a date. Thoughtful, she decided. Unexpectedly funny. She was fairly sure he would kiss, but did he expect more on the first date?
“You’re speculating about something,” he said.
“Do you expect sex on the first date?”
“No.”
“And if it’s offered?”
“If I like the woman enough to want to go out with her, I’m not going to say no to sex, but I’ll be disappointed.”
“In her performance? Isn’t that judgy?”
“No, in the fact that we got there so fast. It doesn’t bode well for the relationship. I don’t want to be with someone who thinks she has to use sex to keep me interested. Or someone who’s only in it for sex.”
“Did you just say bode? No one uses that word.”
“I do. It’s a good word.”
“You’re so weird.”
She kept her voice light and teasing because she didn’t want him to know his words had hit her hard in her tender underbelly. How many times had she used sex to get and keep a man? Maybe the easier question was, how many times had she not?
“Remember back in high school there would be the word of the day?” he asked with a grin. “We were expected to use it in sentences throughout the day. We all complained it was a totally lame idea, yet how many of those words got into our personal lexicon?”
“Lexicon being one of the words?” she asked.
“I assume so.”
“I avoided the words of the day.”
“You were a rebel.”
She smiled. “And you were...” She frowned, remembering that while they’d hung out in ninth and tenth grade, by their final two years of high school, she and Adam hadn’t been friends anymore. She had no memories of doing anything with him or even seeing him much after school, despite the fact that they lived next door to each other.
“What happened to us?” she asked. “In school. We were tight and then one day, you were gone.”
His gaze slid from hers, as if he knew exactly what she was talking about but didn’t want to admit it.
“Nothing happened.”
“Something obviously did, and you don’t want to talk about it. Why did we stop being friends?”
His gaze locked with hers. She read indecision there, along with something she couldn’t name. Something that made her stomach tighten, even as she said, “I want the truth. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings.”
Because for some reason, she really did want to know what had gone wrong between them.
He set down his beer and shrugged. “You got mean.”
seven
After Daisy got the kids into bed, she debated retreating to her own room for a little mindless TV. She could stream a new series or check out whatever the Food Network was offering. But instead of walking purposefully, she hesitated.
She really should check on Cassidy—not that she wanted to. Spending time with her sister wasn’t exactly pleasant and it wasn’t as if she needed to be checked on. There was literally round-the-clock nursing care and her physician father was a phone call away. Cassidy was fine. Daisy should get on with her evening. Maybe she could finally figure out how to make a soufflé that didn’t fall, or she could spend a little time trying to figure out what was going on with her marriage and her husband—both of which seemed to be missing from her life.