End of Story(29)

Many of the pieces I managed to acquire were vintage thanks to the cool secondhand shops around town, and a local estate sale. The mahogany sideboard was an antique. But the round mirror above the mantel and the silver-and-glass bar cart were brand-new. And the battered midcentury coffee table had been discarded by someone up the street so it was perfect for me to put my bare tired feet up on it now.

“Hey,” he said.

I wiggled and stretched my toes. The kitten heels had been seriously uncomfortable. “Did you have a nice night?”

“Yeah. I was out in the back keeping an eye on the fire pit and talking to your friend Hang and her husband for a while.”

“They’re good people.”

He nodded. “Then Mateo and James arrived. It was kind of you to invite them.”

“I like them. Besides which, you and Mateo and that little creep are the reason this place looks so good.”

“But you didn’t feel the need to invite the little creep?”

“Hell no,” I said. “I’m not that nice.”

The windows were open to let in the cool night breeze and Jimi Hendrix played softly on the turntable. There was a stillness in the small hours that you couldn’t find at any other time. With Lars there, it felt even nicer. And for a moment, I set my issues and worries aside and let myself enjoy it. It didn’t matter that the house was a mess with empty glasses and dishes strewed about. It didn’t matter that our feelings for each other were equally muddled. Everything was good.

Right up until he opened his mouth and said, “Thought Tore might be in here with you.”

I took a sip of my vodka and soda with lime. “I’m not interested in your brother. And I have no idea about his current whereabouts.”

Nothing from him.

“I thought Cleo might have been out back with you,” I said, not sounding like a jealous shrew in the least.

“No.” A slow smile curved his lips. “I haven’t met your friend yet. Figured you must have hidden her somewhere. But I get the point you were making earlier in the kitchen.”

“Oh?”

“Whatever this is...we’re just going to have to work it out between us. Wait it out, I guess,” he said, tone contemplative. “I have no idea where that divorce certificate came from or what the hell it all means. But it’s like you said, we’re still in charge of the decisions we make.”

“Yes, we are. No one can force us to get together, let alone marry and then separate. Regardless of any stray weird and unwarranted sexual feelings we may be experiencing.” I nodded in full agreement with myself. “Because you’d be breaking the bro code and I’d be rushing into a relationship, and probably making another mistake and inevitably everything would go to shit. Which neither of us wants.”

“Exactly. But dating each other’s brothers or friends right now would be stupid. And possibly hurtful, I guess.”

“Friends don’t hurt friends,” I said. “At least, not on purpose. And I definitely haven’t hidden Cleo from you. I have no idea as to her whereabouts. Maybe she had to leave early. I’ll text her in a minute. Just as soon as my feet stop hurting.”

The cat let out a plaintive meow and stuck her head out from underneath the sofa. I hadn’t even realized she was there. Someone deserved a saucer of milk for tolerating all of the people. She’d been in hiding for hours. Parties were definitely not her thing.

“You’re going to swipe right on a dating app, I take it?” I asked.

“I’m in no rush.” He gave me a long look. “What about you?”

There was a bang as the back bedroom door opened. Lars and I both looked over our shoulders to see Cleo stumble out into the dining room giggling. With her was a very large half-dressed male busily pulling up the zipper on his jeans.

My mouth fell open. “Huh.”

“Guess that answers that question,” said Lars.

Cleo looked up and her eyes went wide. “Oh. Hi.”

“Enjoying the party?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I bit back a grin. “Excellent.”

“Babe,” said Tore, buttoning up his shirt. “This is the brother I told you about.”

Lars lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey.”

“Nice to meet you.” Cleo gave him a smile before turning her attentions back to her new friend. “You missed a button. Let me get it.”

“Sneaking off at parties to make out,” I chided. “What are we, eighteen?”

Cleo dealt me a look. “You’re just jealous, Susie.”

“That’s true. I really am.”

Lars patted me on the knee. “There, there.”

“The chaise you put in the new office is very comfortable,” said Cleo.

“The fabric was okay?” I asked. “No rug burn?”

“Smooth as silk.”

I gave her a thumbs-up. “Good to know.”

“We have to go.” Cleo led a now-blushing Tore toward the front door. And the smile on the woman. “But I’ll be back tomorrow to help you clean up.”

“Right,” said Tore. “You were going to show me that thing at your place. Which I’m really looking forward to. But we will definitely be back, Susie.”