James sat back and studied her. The silence seemed to go on forever. “When did this happen?”

“I guess rather unexpectedly over the past few weeks. And as much as I enjoy your company, James, in light of the circumstances, I don’t think I can continue seeing you. At least not in a romantic sense.”

He stared into his drink. “Well, I certainly didn’t see this coming. Is it serious? With the other guy?”

She considered the question, choosing to ignore the pronoun. “It has the potential to be, I think.”

A pause. He raised his eyes to hers and offered a halfhearted smile. “Definitely not what I wanted to hear. But I care about you, Sarah, and want the best for you. Given, I still think that’s me, but if it’s meant to be between us, it will happen someday. Right?”

She decided not to argue, and to just roll with it. No need to drag out the conversation. “Thank you for understanding and if at all possible, maybe we could be friends.” It was generic and lame but all she had.

He nodded, his energy noticeably lower. “Of course. Women like you aren’t easy to come by. I don’t plan on letting you get away entirely.”

She smiled at the compliment, but still felt a little uneasy. “I should go.” She took out a ten from her wallet and slid it toward the bartender. “Take care, James.”

He nodded. “You too.”

*

It was windy on the beach as the sun made its final descent in the sky and Emory enjoyed the view as she slowed her speed to a moderate walk. The run on the beach had been just what she needed, and she was glad she’d picked up what had at one time been her daily routine. It felt good, she thought, stretching her calves.

As she approached her back door, she saw a familiar face waiting for her, and much to her chagrin, she actually smiled at his unannounced visit.

“Hello, Walter.” She stroked him behind his ears. “And how was your day today?” He whined softly and leaned into her hand for more. She knelt and scratched gently under his chin, earning herself a few swipes of his tongue across her face. “All right, all right, that’s enough of that. Yuck.” She stood and wiped away the dog slobber. “It was nice to see you, Walter. Thanks for stopping by.” Emory gave his head a final pat and went inside to set about the task of cooking herself a small dinner.

Deciding on a chef salad, she went to work pulling the ingredients from her fridge. She decided to whip up the dressing herself, as the store-bought stuff never seemed to sparkle. She threw some red wine vinegar, honey, garlic, and rosemary into a small bowl, and set about whisking like there was no tomorrow. She stopped a short time later to sample her work. Nice flavor balance. She offered herself a mental high five and accepted it.

While she ate, she turned on some soft jazz and enjoyed the pairing of her salad with a little Charlie Parker. It was the second chorus before, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed none other than Walter himself, still on her deck. He sat at perfect attention and stared at her through the glass, his eyes warm and expressive as if to say, “I’m a very good dog. Give me some salad.”

But she was more annoyed by his adorable display than anything else and turned away, taking her dinner to the living room where she could veg out in peace. The DVD case to Up was still tucked into the arm of her sectional. She studied it while she ate, letting it mentally take her back to the recent evening she’d spent with Sarah and Grace.

She’d talked to Sarah a couple of times on the phone since then. There had been some mild flirtation, which gave her day an extra added charge, but their schedules, coupled with Grace’s, had kept them from actually laying eyes on each other. This was a problem she hoped to remedy soon. She had dinner plans with Vanessa on Saturday after they closed on the house, but she was hopeful she could persuade Sarah to see her Friday. Pulling her cell from her pocket, she decided to try her luck. And after three rings, there she was.

“Hey, you,” Sarah said.

“Knock, knock.”

Amused chuckling. “All right. Who’s there?”

“Wanda”

“Wanda who?”

“Wanda go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

Sarah laughed at her lame attempt at humor. “That was really, really bad. You have to know that was bad.”

“I do, which makes it awesome.”

“I don’t think it gets any worse than that.”

“Oh, it can.”

Emory heard her laugh again and pause. “And as absolutely horrible as that joke was, I would like nothing better than to say yes.”

“Then say yes,” Emory said, still playful.

“I would but, um, how should I say this? I already have a date.”

Emory took a moment, her heart sinking as the fun fell from her voice. “The architect?”

“Not actively seeing the architect anymore, no. I closed that loop. He accepted my offer of friendship. Kind of.”

Emory was confused and still a little deflated. “Okay, then who are you going out with?”

“She’s eight years old and a tad on the feisty side. I promised I would take her to the movies tomorrow night. However, I think she would love it if you came with us.”

“The movies?” Her spirits were lifting. “That could be fun. There’s an art house I like to check out sometimes. I could see if they have anything kid friendly. Sometimes they have subtitles, but—”

“Gonna have to nix the art house this time, Ivy League. We want to see the new Twilight flick.”

She paused for the punch line. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I am most definitely not kidding. Meet us at our place at six thirty?”

“Okay, but I want you to know how much this could damage my reputation if word gets out.”

“Blackmail material makes this all the more alluring.”

Emory sighed softly. “Okay, well I’m all for alluring. See you at six thirty.”

“I can’t wait. Bye, Wanda.”

Emory grinned to herself as she carried her plate to the kitchen wondering what rabbit hole she’d fallen down. Twilight, seriously? Though she had to admit there was something appealing about the sheer whimsy of it.

As she walked past the back door, she was forced into an honest to goodness double take at the newest demonstration just outside. With all four paws standing straight up in the air, she would have thought someone had shot Walter dead if it weren’t for those ridiculously earnest eyes blinking back at her from his upside-down position. She tilted her head to the side and held eye contact with him. His eyes seemed so soft, yet so hopeful. She felt her resolve crumbling. “All right! I’m not made of stone. You win.”

As she opened the back door, Walter leapt to attention and trotted eagerly into the house. He stopped at her feet and gently pressed his wet nose into her hand, offering a lick. She rolled her eyes and relented, scratching obediently behind his ears. “This doesn’t mean anything. You can hang out for a little while, but if you get the furniture dirty, I swear, there’s going to be trouble.” Her answer was a powerful thwacking of his tail against the back of her legs.

She spent the rest of the night reviewing sales reports for work, her eyes growing hazy from strain, her neck muscles aching from use, and Walter curled warmly into her side, fast asleep.

Chapter Ten

On Friday night, Sarah entered her kitchen, shrugged into a long cardigan sweater, and found Emory standing in front of her refrigerator, studying the myriad of random snapshots. “Grace should be ready in just a minute. Are you all set?”

Emory looked back at her and nodded happily. “Is this your friend Carmen?”

Sarah leaned in over Emory’s shoulder and followed her gaze to the photo in question. “Yep. That was taken right after high school graduation. Please ignore my hair. I hadn’t discovered the magical world of hair care products yet.”