JENNIE

Alone in the garage, splayed on her table like a centerpiece, I felt the weight of embarrassment settle over me like a wet blanket.

But I shouldn't be embarrassed. She came at me. Again.

She asked the flirty question, she came and stood between my legs, she put her hands on me first. It was obvious she wanted me like I wanted her. We were just having fun. So what was her problem?

I propped myself up on my hands and took a minute to catch my breath and wrangle my thoughts.

Was it the kids? Was it the boss/employee thing? Was she still worried about taking advantage of me in a vulnerable state? She was definitely a person with a strong moral code—she'd flat out said she thought a person's actions were more important than their feelings. If she believed a thing was wrong, she wouldn't do it.

As my pulse decelerated, I had to admit there were plenty of reasons to put the brakes on before we did something we might regret.

You need this job, I reminded myself, pushing off the table and picking up my laundry basket. So maybe it's good that one of you isn't thinking with your hormones right now. The last thing you need is to mess this up.

As I hurried up the stairs in the drizzle, I grew even more thankful that nothing had happened. Okay, maybe not one hundred percent thankful, I admitted, thinking about her lips on my stomach, her hand on my thigh, that bulge in her jeans. But at least ninety percent. Possibly eighty-five. Eighty if I was being super honest.

Kicking the door shut with my foot, I headed into the bedroom area and set the laundry basket down. But rather than put it away, I went over to the window and looked out at the house. The windows in Lisa's bedroom were dark, and I couldn't tell if the shade was up or down. The kids' bathroom light appeared to be on, although the shade was lowered.

I hoped everything was okay.

Moving backward, I flopped across the foot of the bed and stared at the ceiling, my arms above my head. Closing my eyes, I fantasized about Lisa stretching out above me, her weight pressing me into the mattress. I wondered if she'd be rough, like she was the night she kissed me by the fire pit, all greedy tongue and grabby hands, or tender, like she'd been downstairs just now, all soft lips and gentle fingers. I wouldn't mind a little of both, I thought, bringing my hands to my breasts and wishing they were hers. I just wanted to feel her.

I kicked off my flip flops and brought my heels onto the bed, knees apart. Bringing one hand to my leg, I let it glide up my inner thigh just like she'd done. But where she'd stopped, I didn't—I placed my hand over my panties and rubbed slowly and firmly, allowing the hum to build in my lower body. Then I slipped my fingers inside the edge of the lace—

A knock on the door made me bolt upright, heart pounding like I'd been caught touching myself. Jumping to my feet, I glanced out the window and saw that the house was completely dark. But Jesus Christ, I'd left the shade up!

If it hadn't been raining, I'd have taken a moment to make sure my face wasn't too flushed, but I didn't want to leave her out there getting wet. Fanning my face, I quickly went to the door and pulled it open.

The sight of her, all dark and rugged and wet with rain, did nothing to cool me down. "Hey," I said, my voice cracking.

"Hey." She shoved her hands in her pockets.

"Want to come in?"

She shook her head. "That's a bad idea."

"Lisa, you're getting wet. Just come in. I won't bite."

Tentatively, she stepped across the threshold. "Okay, but leave the door open."

I rolled my eyes, but I backed up and put some space between us. The rain thrummed on the roof above our heads. "Everything okay at the house?"

"Yes. Louis had a bad dream. Then he wanted a glass of water. But he's fine, already back to sleep."

"That's good."

"Anyway, I just came up to apologize." Her eyes lingered on my stomach.

"You don't have to."

She held up her hands, raising her gaze to mine. "I want to. I made the big deal about setting boundaries when I hired you, and tonight, I pushed them."

"I wasn't putting up a fight, in case you didn't notice."

Dropping her arms, she exhaled. "Maybe you should have."

"Why? It doesn't seem wrong to me."

"It doesn't?" She looked angry. "All I can think of when I see you in that outfit is untying your top—with my teeth."

I gasped. "Really?"

"Really. And it's fucking wrong. You work for me."

"Okay, maybe it's a little bit wrong, but you know what?" I tossed my hands up. "I don't care. I spent the last year doing exactly what I was told, so I guess you're getting me in a rebellious phase. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'll do a better job of keeping my distance."

I didn't want her to keep her distance. I wanted her to untie my top with her teeth. "Okay. I will too."

She nodded. "So . . . goodnight."

"Night."

Then she was gone, pulling the door closed behind her.

Back in the bedroom, I went over to the window and looked out to see her hustle across the driveway and enter the house. A minute later her bedroom light came on, and I thought she'd notice the shade was still up and come over to lower it. But she must have been distracted or something because she disappeared into the bathroom for a moment—turning on the shower?—then came back out, grabbing her shirt at the back of her neck. Walking toward the window, she yanked it over her head and tossed it aside.

That's when she saw me.

My breath caught. Framed in the window, she stood there for a moment, gorgeous . She reached up to pull down the shade.

I reached behind my neck and untied my top.

She paused with one arm raised.

Leaving the halter ties dangling over my shoulders, I turned around and unraveled the knot at my back. Then I let the top fall to the floor. With one last look over my shoulder—she was still there watching—I walked away from the window and switched off the light.

I walked into the bathroom with a little smile on my face.

Lisa stuck to her word.

I wasn't sure if he was just following through on her promise or punishing me for the mini-strip tease routine, but the following week, she did an excellent job keeping her distance.

On Sunday, she took the kids to Moe's for breakfast, and even though the twins invited me to come along, Lisa said nothing. I insisted they go without me and took advantage of the break in the rain with a jog down to the harbor and back. Later, when the drizzle started up again, the kids and I made tap shoes by taping pennies and nickels in the shape of taps to the bottoms of old sneakers. Then I taught them some basic steps on the tiled basement floor, and that evening, they invited their dada down to see their new skills.

She gamely applauded and praised their talent, examining the bottoms of their shoes and offering to get them a big piece of plywood if they wanted a better practice surface.

But she barely even looked in my direction.

The week began smoothly enough—I had the morning routine down pat, and running errands was quicker now that I knew my way around town. I was good at remembering names and faces, so it was nice to be able to call out a personal greeting when I passed someone on the street or grabbed coffee on Main Street or checked out at a shop downtown.

On Wednesday evening, I taught a social dance class for seniors at the library, and the librarian—Noreen, whose sister Faye had been married to Lisa's Uncle Harry—said it was the most crowded the mixer had ever been. She asked if I'd come back every week during the summer, and I said yes.

Thursday night was my biggest culinary triumph yet—I managed to serve a meal that Lisa finished. And then she had seconds! Granted, it's hard to screw up tacos, but whatever. It felt like a victory.

Afterward, however, she disappeared into the garage like she had every other night, while the kids and I ate popsicles on the front porch. Then they played outside with the other neighborhood kids until it got dark, when I corralled them into the house for showers and one last snack.

At some point during the bedtime routine each night, Lisa would come in and say, "Thanks, I'll take over," and we'd change places without directly meeting each other's eyes. I'd say goodnight to the kids and head back to my place above the garage, and she'd get the kids tucked in. Sometimes I heard her come back out to the garage and work a little more, but she never invited me to have a beer with her again, and she certainly didn't come knock on my door.

By the weekend, I was feeling kind of lonely and isolated. Louis and Luna were great, and the seniors in dance class had been adorable, but I was sort of craving interaction with someone my age. Friendship. Camaraderie. It has been missing from my life ever since I'd been engaged to Chan. I'd never made girlfriends of my own in Chicago—just his sisters or the wives and girlfriends of his work or golf buddies. And I'd had nothing in common with those women.

I couldn't call Jisoo every night—she was busy with a newborn baby. Ryujin had texted me a couple times over the last couple weeks asking how things were going, but I didn't want to burden her either. I especially didn't want to admit that part of my problem was a strong attraction to her sister.

But all physical urges aside, I really did like it when Lisa and I had talked . . . Chan had not been a good listener. He'd pretend to listen, he'd say things like "right" and "uh huh," but his eyes would glaze over, and he always found a way to bring the conversation around to a topic he could mansplain to me. We just never understood each other.

But somehow, I felt like Lisa got me. Maybe it was because she'd lost her mom too. Maybe it was because I was a lot more myself around Lisa than I had been around Chan. Maybe it was simply because Lisa wasn't a rich selfish prick.

Whatever the reason, I felt the loss of her friendship even though it had barely begun. I started to think about maybe trying to go see Jisoo while the kids were gone, if I could scrape the money together to get there. Then while I was in the city, maybe I could see about a job and a living situation for the fall.

On Friday morning, after I'd dropped the kids at camp, I called her.

"Speak of the devil!" she said when she picked up. "I was just talking about you."

The familiarity of her voice made me smile. "You were?"

"Yes. I might have solved your employment issues! Haein went to a meeting yesterday about a new show that's opening this fall. Scott Blackstone is the choreographer, and apparently, he's looking for a new assistant."

I gasped. I'd taken Scott's musical theater dance class for years when I lived in the city, and I loved both his choreography and his teaching style. He'd asked me to assist him in the past during my off-season whenever he'd do college workshops or festivals, and we worked really well together. But I hadn't been in touch with him since I left New York. "Oh my god, that would be perfect!"

"I know! I told Haein to float your name. Okay to give Scott your new number? He adored you. I bet you'd get the gig."

"Of course! Thank you—I'm so anxious to get back to New York."

"The job isn't going well?"

"No, it is, I just . . ." I didn't feel like explaining the whole Lisa situation to her. "I guess it just doesn't feel like home here yet. I was thinking maybe I'd come visit you while the kids go to visit their mom in California."

"Yes!" she shrieked. "Do it!"

I laughed at her excitement. "I'll check ticket prices. I don't want to blow all my earnings. I'm going to need them this fall."

"Let me know," she said. "I cannot wait to see you!"

We hung up, and I felt a little better.

Then I got a message from Lisa.

The kids leave tomorrow for California.

I know. It's on the calendar.

I'll help them pack when I get home tonight. Could you make sure all their laundry is done?

Yes.

Then I took a deep breath and asked my question.

Are you still planning to take me to Chicago while they are gone to get my things?

I said I would.

I frowned.

It's okay if you don't have time. I know how busy you are.

I said I would, and I will. We'll go Sunday.

Annoyed, I tossed my phone aside and stomped upstairs to get the kids' laundry.

On Friday evening, Taeyong showed up with burgers and hot dogs, and he and Lisa grilled while I stuck frozen French fries in the oven and tossed a salad together. Lisa sat across the table from me, but never seemed to look up from her plate, much as she'd done all week.

After dinner, the kids begged their dada to take them into town for ice cream.

"Not tonight," she said firmly. "We need to get you guys packed."

"All their laundry is done," I said before she could ask. Then I got up and began clearing the table. "I just have to bring up the last load from the basement. The rest is already folded and put away."

Lisa didn't look at me, but I could sense Taeyong's eyes moving back and forth between me and his sister.

"Tell you what." Taeyong spoke up. "I'll take the kids for ice cream right now, and you guys can get their bags packed without interruption."

"Yay! Can we, Dada?" Luna asked.

"I guess." Lisa didn't sound too happy about the plan, and I wondered if it was because it meant being alone in the house with me.

"Let's go." Taeyong stood up and shook his keys. "Last one to the car is a rotten egg."

As soon as they were gone, Lisa brought her dishes to the sink. "I'll clean up in here. Can you bring those last loads of laundry up to their rooms? Then you can be done for the night. I can pack their bags myself."

"Fine." Wiping my hands on the towel, I glanced sideways at her. "Everything okay?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. You haven't been talking to me much this week."

She was silent for a moment. "I'm just doing what I said I'd do."

"Right. Okay." I left her standing there and went down to the basement, where I emptied the clothing from the dryer into the basket, then carried it all the way up to the second floor.

On the landing, I glanced into Lisa's bedroom. The bed was made, although the comforter was wrinkled on one side, like maybe she'd sat there to put on her socks and shoes. I wondered if she'd ever had a woman in that bed, or if she'd slept alone every single night for the last seven years. She said she never got lonely. But how could that be? Wasn't she human?

I went into Luna's room and dumped the clothes out onto the bed, separating them into piles of his and hers, then folding them neatly. I was placing things into Luna's dresser drawers when I heard Lisa's voice behind me.

"Thanks," she said. "I'll take over."

I closed the drawer and turned around, leaning back against the dresser. "You don't want help?"

"No, thanks." She went over to the bed, knelt down, and pulled a small purple suitcase from under it. Rising to her feet, she opened it on the bed.

"Are you just going to ignore me like this for the rest of the summer, Lisa? Because I'm not sure I can stand it."

"I'm not ignoring you." She went to the closet and took out a couple pairs of shoes. "I'm treating you like I'm supposed to. Like an employee."

"I thought we were going to be friends."

She placed the shoes at the bottom of the suitcase. "I thought we could, but I don't think that's possible anymore."

"Why not?"

"You know why not." She went to the closet again and took a couple sundresses off their hangers.

"Because we like each other?"

"It's more than that." Laying the dresses on the bed, she came over to the dresser where I was standing. "Excuse me. I have to open this drawer."

I wouldn't budge. "Answer the question, Lisa. Why can't we be friends?"

Her eyes were focused on the dresser top.

"Is this about the thing in the window the other night? I'm sorry, okay? I was trying to get under your skin the way you'd gotten under mine. I won't do that again."

She swallowed. Her jaw twitched.

I pivoted so I could see her expression in the mirror over the dresser. It was hard and unrelenting. "So that's it? We can't be friends because we're attracted to each other?"

Lifting her head, her eyes found mine in the glass. "We can't be friends because I spend every minute of the day thinking about fucking you."

I sucked in my breath. "That's—that's not what I thought you'd say."

"It's the truth."

My core muscles clenched. "Maybe we could—"

"No." She opened the drawer and took out the items she wanted. "It's out of the question."

"Even if I told you I think about it too?"

"Don't tell me that." She went back to the bed and began placing socks and underwear inside the suitcase.

"But we're two consenting adults."

"It's more complicated than that. You work for me. I pay you."

"What if I quit?"

But I couldn't quit, and she knew it.

Downstairs, the front door opened, and we heard the kids' voices. A moment later, they came running up the steps and appeared in Luna's bedroom doorway holding the drippy remains of their ice cream.

"Uncle Taeyong let us get double scoops!" Louis shouted.

I plastered a smile on my face. "Looks delicious, but let's go outside with those cones. You can each tell me what flavors you had."

They followed me down the stairs and out to the front porch, where I sat and listened to them chatter on about their desserts and who they saw in town and how excited they were about their trip on an airplane by themselves.

"Last year was the first time Dada let us fly alone, and the pilot let us go in the cockpit and see all the buttons and steering things," Luna said. "We got to get on the plane first, and we got snacks and drinks before anyone else."

"Wow." I smiled. "It's like you guys travel like movie stars."

But my mind was stuck on a loop.

I spend every minute of the day thinking about fucking you.