The Last of the Moon Girls(80)

As she approached the workbench, she was surprised to see the old chambray smock she had filched from Althea still hanging from its nail, like an old friend waiting patiently for her return. It would need a good washing before she could wear it. She was about to pull it down when she heard the scuff of footsteps. She turned, surprised to find Andrew behind her.

“Hey.” He raised a hand as he came toward her. “I pulled the window to work on the frame, so I had to put up a tarp. I came to see if it held after last week’s downpour. I didn’t expect to find you in here.”

“I’m thinking of starting a new project, but I needed to clear my workbench first.”

“What’s the project?”

“A gift for Rhanna. A perfume she used to like. I’d like to make it a surprise if I can, so I’ll need to work out here—in secret.”

“So things are better with you two?”

Lizzy shrugged. “We talked through some things. It wasn’t exactly a lovefest, but I understand some things I didn’t before. Things she’s never told anyone. I think it’ll give us both some closure when we leave.”

“Any idea when that’ll be?”

“Not yet. I’m still mulling my options. Basically, I have two. Spend money I don’t have to fix the place up, or list it as is and wait months—maybe years—for it to sell. Unfortunately, the property taxes are due in January. Which means I’m probably looking at a mortgage either way.”

Lizzy smothered a groan when her cell rang, already knowing who it was. She slid it from her back pocket, checked the number to confirm, then tapped “Ignore.” “My boss,” she explained sheepishly.

“Luc?”

He’d pronounced the name with a swishy French accent. Lizzy dismissed the snark with a roll of her eyes. “Yes, Luc. I’ve been dodging him for days, so he’s been leaving me messages. He wants to know how long it’s going to take me to wind things up here, and I don’t really have an answer.”

“He’s pressuring you?”

Lizzy half shrugged, half nodded. “It wasn’t supposed to take this long. I thought I’d be done in a few days—a week at most. It’s been a month and I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“You thought you’d be able to pack up decades of family history in a week?”

“I thought it would be . . . easier. Not just the packing, all of it. I didn’t know the place was falling down, or that Rhanna was going to show up. And I certainly never planned on playing detective in an eight-year-old rerun of Cold Case Files. Luc’s been incredibly patient, but at some point he expects me back.”

“So what’s the deal with you two?”

Lizzy blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. “There is no deal. He’s my boss.”

“Are you sure? Because the last time I asked, you fumbled your answer a little.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She waited for a response. None came. He wasn’t buying it. “All right. We were seeing each other for a while, but I called it.”

“You make it sound like a baseball game—called on account of rain.”

“I got a promotion. A big one. And I didn’t want everyone thinking . . . you know. So I ended it.”

A crease appeared between his brows. “You ended a relationship because you were worried about what people would think?”

“It wasn’t a relationship,” she corrected evenly. “Not in the way other people classify them. Luc isn’t a commitment kind of guy, and that suited me just fine.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You weren’t looking for a commitment from him? Or from anyone?”

Lizzy turned away, feigning interest in a bottle of ylang-ylang oil, its contents long since evaporated. “Let’s just say it’s not part of my plan.”

“So it’s a career thing?”

“It’s a me thing,” she replied, tossing the empty bottle into a nearby trash can. “Some people are destined for the whole love-and-marriage thing. I’m not one of those people.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I don’t know anything about your life, or how you see your future. I just . . .” He paused, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. “Why aren’t you one of those people?”

The question made Lizzy’s mouth go dry. Why were they talking about this? She looked down at her hands, wiping smudges of dust from her palms. “When your last name is Moon, you learn pretty quick not to want what other people have. Not because you don’t want it, but because not everyone gets a choice.” She closed her mouth, shook her head. She’d already said too much. “Sorry. Ignore me.”

His eyes locked on hers, unblinking as a lazy grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “I’ve never been able to ignore you, Lizzy. I think you know that.”

Lizzy took a step back, then another, until she felt the bench at the small of her back. He was too close, the smoky-amber scent of him too distracting. “Please don’t flirt with me, Andrew.”

“Why?”

Breathe. Just breathe. She put a hand to her chest, trying to quell the bloom of warmth beneath her ribs. “Because I might forget that I don’t want to be flirted with, and I don’t want to forget it. I’m not looking for a summer romance.”