“I don’t want you to be mad that I might not stay inarchitecture. Or disappointed or whatever.”
It never occurred to her he’d worry so much about her opinion. Itmade her smile and gave her a pang all at the same time. “Jake, you should dowhat makes you happy. Always.”
“But I was going to do an internship with you and it was going tobe so cool.”
They had discussed that possibility, and she relished theprospect of having him work with her. But it was because she loved spendingtime with him and wanted to help him get a leg up professionally. “You figuringout what you want to do, and doing it, is way more important than an internshipwith me.”
He frowned but looked more relaxed. “Yeah.”
“So, any contenders? Or do you just hate architecture?”
“I don’t hate it.” His tone was equal parts defensive andapologetic. “It’s just, like, a lot of math.”
“I warned you about that.”
“I know, I know. I used to like math?”
That he phrased it as a question made her chuckle. “Whathappened?”
He blew out a breath. “Calculus.”
She could empathize. She’d gotten the grades she’d needed toadvance to the upper level courses, but she hadn’t hit it out of the park byany means. “No argument there.”
“I took this lit class for one of my electives and I really dugit.”
“Lit, huh?” She did not see that one coming.
“The professor was amazing. This southern chick. Gorgeous, butthat’s not why I loved her class. She was so excited about Eudora Welty. Shemade me want to read all these books and, I don’t know, maybe write one.”
It was hard to decide what part of this delighted her more—theidea of her nephew becoming a writer or having a pretty good idea who theinspiring professor was. “Dr. Bennett?”
His eyes got huge. “You know her?”
“A little. Her wife is a contractor I work with a lot.”
“You can’t tell her I said she was gorgeous.”
The genuine fear in his voice made her smile. “Your secret issafe with me.”
“I signed up for her creative writing seminar in the fall. It’sjust an intro. You don’t have to be good to take it or anything.”
She had no intention of telling Olivia, or Joss for that matter,that her nephew had a crush on her. But she would pick Olivia’s brain forthings she might do to encourage him along the way. Things completely out ofher wheelhouse. “Have you told your parents?”
“Yeah, yeah. They’re cool. I was more worried about telling you.”
“Aw. You know I’ll support you no matter what.”
“Yeah.” He blushed and looked relieved when their food came.“Thanks.”
“Always.”
He picked up his sandwich and took a huge bite. Mouth full, helifted his chin at her. “Tell me about your girl.”
She laughed, both at his interest in her love life and his use ofthe word girl, not because he was being condescending but because he wasrelating to her as a peer. “Well, she’s a baker. And she’s gorgeous.”
He nodded his approval. “That’s lit.”
Between time with her nieces and nephews and context clues, shewas pretty sure lit meant cool and not the kind of lit they’d been discussing amoment before. “It kind of is.”
They finished their sandwiches and she bought him a box ofcookies to take to work that afternoon. “You going to bring her to a familything soon?”
“Has Aunt Kiera been feeding you lines?”
“Huh?”
He looked genuinely confused, so she slapped him on the shoulder.“Kidding. She’s been needling me about the same thing.”
“Oh. Ha ha. Yeah. That sounds like her.”
The simplicity of the statement made her laugh. “What about you?Any girls? Boys?”
He lifted a hand. “Pretty sure it’s girls, but no.”
She hung her head and shook it dramatically. “Not an architectand straight. What am I going to do with you?”
He winced. “You’re sure you’re not mad about that?”
“No. I’m proud of you for following your heart, on both counts.”
“All right.”
“I can’t wait to hear about your class with Olivia.”
It took him a second to realize who she meant. “I can’t believeyou know her. And that you call her Olivia.”
“You should probably still call her Dr. Bennett.” She winked athim. “At least for now.”
The idea of calling her anything else seemed to mortify him,which she found endearing. They hugged in the parking lot and went theirseparate ways. Quinn headed to work, thinking a bit about the bank branch plansshe had waiting for her, but mostly about Amanda and the prospect of meetingeach other’s families. She’d expected the prospect to give her pause, but itdidn’t. Perhaps, when it came down to it, her hesitation to get involved withsomeone again had less to do with getting involved and more to do with theperson in question.
Chapter Twenty
Quinn strode up the walk, telling herself not to be nervous.It didn’t do much good, but she told herself anyway. Who would have guessedmeeting a girlfriend’s kids would prove more daunting than meeting her parents?The adventures of dating in middle age.
Amanda greeted her at the door with an encouraging smile. “Thanksfor coming.”
She didn’t seem nervous, just happy for Quinn to be there. Thatunspoken energy did more to calm her nerves than any reassurance could have. “Ibrought ice cream, as instructed.”
“Excellent.”
Amanda took the bag from her. Quinn leaned in and kissed hercheek. That was okay, right? Based on Amanda’s smile, yeah, it was okay.
In the kitchen, Daniella and Cal seemed to be waiting for her.Nope, not nervous at all. “Hi.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Daniella crossed the room and extendedher hand.
Quinn accepted the handshake. “Likewise.”
“Good to see you again.” Cal mimicked his sister’s gesture.
Quinn shook his hand as well, wondering if they’d been coached orraised with such impeccable manners. “You, too.”
Amanda went to the oven and peered in. “Should be just a fewminutes.”
She sniffed the air. “I’m not sure what you’re cooking, but itsmells amazing.”
“You’re easy.” Amanda offered a wink.
“There’s nothing wrong with being easy when it comes to food,”Cal said.
“Thank you.” She appreciated that he was looking for commonground.
Daniella smirked. It reminded Quinn so very much of Amanda. Sherefrained from saying so, at least until passing the initial
