JENNIE

"Is your pizza good?" I ask Smith from across the table.

He looks up at me, mouth full, and nods his head yes. His small hands are holding a fork and knife to cut into his meal. This doesn't surprise me.

When his plate is clear, he stands from the table and walks his dishes to the dishwasher, placing them inside. "I'm going to retire for the night. I'm ready for bed," the little scientist announces.

Lisa shakes her head in amusement over the maturity of the kid.

I stand up and ask, "Do you need anything? Water, or to be walked to your room?"

But he declines and grabs his blanket from the couch before heading up to his bedroom.

I watch Smith disappear upstairs, then sit back down and realize that Lisa has spoken less than ten words to me in the last hour. She's kept her distance, and I can't help but find myself comparing her behavior tonight to the way she spoke during our phone calls this week. A small part of me wishes we were on the phone now instead of sitting silently on the couch.

"I have to piss," she announces, then heads off as I surf through the channels on the flat-screen TV.

Moments later Kimberly and Christian come through the front door, followed by another couple. A tall blond woman dressed in a short gold dress saunters across the hardwood floor. I take one glance at her sky-high heels, and my ankles start to ache for her. She gives me a smile and a wave as she follows Kimberly through the foyer and into the living room. Lisa appears in the hallway but doesn't make a move to enter the room.

"Sasha, this is Jennie and Lisa," Kimberly kindly introduces us.

"It's nice to meet you." I smile, hating that I didn't put on better-looking pajamas.

"You, too," Sasha responds, but she's looking directly to Lisa, who looks back at her for a moment but doesn't otherwise greet her or come fully into the living room.

"Sasha is a friend of Christian's business partner," Kimberly informs us.

Well, informs me, because Lisa isn't paying them any attention, having fixed her eyes on the wildlife program I ended up landing on.

"And this is Max, who does business with Christian."

The man, who had been joking and laughing with Christian, steps around from behind Sasha, and when I finally get a look at him, I'm surprised to see Marco's friend from college, that girl Lillian's father.

"Max," I repeat, discreetly staring at Lisa and trying to draw her attention to the familiar face in front of us.

Catching on, Kimberly looks back and forth between Max and me. "You two have met before?"

"Only once, at Sand Point," I respond.

Max's dark eyes are intimidating, and he has an overpowering presence that immediately claims the room as his, but his cold features do soften slightly at my reminder.

"Ah, yes. You're Lisa Manoban's . . . friend," he says, drawing the last word out with a smile.

"Actually, she's . . ." Lisa starts, finally joining us in the living room.

I watch in annoyance as Sasha's eyes follow Lisa's every movement as she crosses the room. She adjusts the golden straps of her dress and licks her lips. I couldn't be more irritated with myself for wearing these damn cloud pants if I tried. Lisa's eyes flicker to her, and I watch as they slowly rake down her body, taking in her tall yet curvy frame, before her attention turns to Max.

"She's not just a friend," Lisa finishes just as Max's hand darts out for a quick and awkward handshake.

"I see." The older man smiles. "Well, either way, she's a lovely girl."

"She is," Lisa mutters. I can sense her annoyance at Max's presence.

Kimberly, the perfect hostess as always, walks over to the bar and gathers glasses for their guests. She politely takes drink orders while I try not to stare at Sasha as she introduces herself to Lisa for the second time. She gives her a brisk nod and sits down on the couch. A pang of disappointment hits me when she leaves a large space between us. Why do I feel so clingy all of a sudden? Is it because Sasha is so beautiful, or is it the way that Lisa's eyes traveled down her body, or how weird she's been all night?

"How's Lillian?" I ask to break the awkwardness and the tension and the aching jealousy that's stirring inside of me.

"She's fine. She's been busy with university," he coolly states.

Kimberly hands him a glass of brown liquor, and he gulps half of it down within seconds.

He raises his brow to Christian. "Bourbon?"

"Only the best," Christian responds with a grin.

"You should call Lillian up sometime. You'd be a good influence on her." Max's eyes move to Lisa.

"I don't think she needs any influence," I retort. I didn't care much for Lillian, due to my jealousy, but I feel a strong need to defend her against her father. I can't help but think that he's referring to her sexual orientation, and that bothers me immensely.

"Oh, I beg to differ." He smiles a bleached-white smile, and I sink back against the couch cushions. This whole exchange has been uncomfortable. Max is charming and rich, but I can't ignore the darkness that lurks within his deep brown eyes and the hidden malice in his wide smile.

Why is he here with Sasha, anyway? He's a married man, and by the short cut of her dress and the way she smiles at him, they don't appear to be only on "friend"-ly terms.

"Lillian is our regular sitter!" Kimberly chimes in.

"Small world." Lisa rolls her eyes so as to appear as uninterested as possible, but I know she's fuming.

"It is, isn't it." Max grins at Lisa.

"Jennie, go upstairs," Lisa quietly instructs me. Max and Kimberly both look at her, making it known that they heard her command.

This situation is even more awkward now than it was only seconds ago. Now that everyone's heard Lisa tell me to go upstairs, I definitely don't want to oblige. However, I know Lisa, and know that she'll make sure I get upstairs, whether she has to carry me or not.

"I think she should stay and have some wine, or a shot of this bourbon. It's aged and very good," Kimberly says as she rises to her feet and pads over to the little bar. "Which will it be?" She smiles, clearly defying Lisa.

She glares at her and presses her lips into a thin, hard line. I want to laugh at the way Kimberly is challenging Lisa, or leave the room—preferably both—but Max is watching our exchange with more curiosity than seems necessary, and I stay put.

"I'll have a glass of wine," I say.

Kimberly nods, pours the white liquid into a long-stemmed glass, and brings it to me.

The space between Lisa and me seems to be growing by the second, and I can practically see the heat rolling off her in small waves. I take a small sip of the crisp wine, and Max finally looks away from me.

Lisa is staring at the wall. Her mood has drastically changed since we kissed, and that really worries me. I thought she'd be excited, happy, and most of all, I thought she'd be turned on and want more, the way she always does, the way I do.

"Do you two live here, in Seattle?" Sasha asks Lisa.

I take another sip of wine. I've been drinking a lot lately.

"I don't." Lisa doesn't look at her as she answers.

"Hmm, where is it that you live?"

"Not in Seattle."

If this conversation were happening in any other circumstance, I would scold her for being so rude, but right now I'm happy that she is. Sasha frowns and leans against Max. He looks at me before gently guiding her in the opposite direction.

I already know you're having an affair, so don't play coy now.

Sasha stays quiet, and Kimberly looks to Christian for help to turn the conversation to more pleasant matters. "Well . . ." Christian clears his throat. "The club opening was great; who knew we'd have such a turnout?"

"It was brilliant, that band . . . I can't recall the name, but the last one . . ." Max begins.

"The Reford something . . . ?" Kimberly suggests.

"No, that wasn't it, love." Christian chuckles, and Kimberly walks over to sit on his lap.

"Well, whoever they are, we need to get them booked for next weekend, too," Max says.

Within minutes of the start of their business talk, Lisa turns and disappears down the hallway . . .

"She's usually more polite," Kimberly tells Sasha.

"No, she's not. But we wouldn't have her any other way." Christian laughs, and the rest of the room joins in.

"I'm going to . . ." I begin.

"Go on." Kimberly waves me off, and I give a small good night wave to the guests. By the time I reach the end of the hallway, Lisa is already in the guest room and has closed the door. I hesitate outside of the room for a moment before turning the knob and pushing the door open. When I finally enter, Lisa is pacing back and forth across the length of the room.

"Is something wrong?" I ask her.

"No."

"Are you sure, because you've been weird ever since—"

"I'm fine. I'm just irritated." She sits down at the edge of the bed and rubs her palms against the knees of her jeans.

I love her new jeans. I recognize them from our—her—closet at the apartment. Chit got them for her for Christmas, and she hated them.

"And why's that?" I quietly ask, making sure to keep my voice from traveling down the hall and into the living room.

"Max is a prick," Lisa booms. She clearly doesn't care if she's heard.

Laughing, I whisper, "Yeah, he is."

"He was just asking for me to lose my shit when he was being rude to you," she breaths.

"He wasn't being rude to me, specifically. I think that's just his personality." I shrug my shoulders, a gesture that doesn't really calm Lisa.

"Well, either way, I don't fucking like him, and it's annoying that we have one night together and it's with a full house." Lisa brushes her hair back from her forehead and grabs a pillow to lie back on.

"I know." I agree. I hope Max and his mistress leave soon. "I hate that he's cheating on his wife. Denise seemed so nice."

"I don't give a shit about that, really. I just don't like him," Lisa says.

I'm a little surprised by her immediate brushing off such a betrayal. "Don't you feel bad for her? Even a little bit? I'm sure she has no idea about Sasha."

She waves her hand in the air and then tucks her arm behind her head. "I'm sure she knows. Max is an asshole. She can't be that stupid."

I picture Max's wife sitting in a mansion in the hills somewhere, wearing an expensive dress, full hair and makeup, waiting for her unfaithful husband to return home. The thought saddens me, and the best I can hope for is that she has a "friend," too.

The thought surprises me that I would wish for her to do the same thing back to him, but her husband is in the wrong here, and though I barely know her, I want her to find some happiness, even if it's not exactly the best decision.

"Either way, it's still wrong," I insist.

"Yeah, but that's marriage for you. Cheating, lying, so on and so on."

"That's not always the case."

"Nine times out of ten." She shrugs. I hate the way she views marriage so negatively.

"No, that's not true." I cross my arms over my chest.

"You're going to argue with me over marriage, again? I don't think we should go there," she warns. Her eyes meet mine, and she takes a deep breath.

I want to battle this out with her, tell her that she's wrong and change her view on marriage, but I know it's pointless. Lisa made up her mind about such things long before she met me.

"You're right, we shouldn't talk about this. Especially when you're already wound up."

"I'm not wound up," she scoffs.

"Okay." I roll my eyes at her, and she rises to her feet.

"Stop rolling your eyes at me," she snaps.

I can't help but roll my eyes, again.

"Jennie . . ." she growls.

I stand still, unmoving and unwavering. She has no reason to be short with me. Max's being a pompous jerk is in no way my fault. This is a typical Lisa Manoban tantrum, and I'm not caving this time.

"You're only here for one night, remember?" I remind her and watch as the hardness and energy slip from her features. She continues to watch me, though, expecting a fight. I'm not giving her one.

"Dammit, you're right. I'm sorry," she finally sighs, impressing me with this sudden change in her mood and her ability to calm herself down. "Come here." She opens her arms, the way Lisa always does, and I walk into them, the way I haven't for so long. She doesn't say anything; she only wraps her arms around me and rests her chin on top of my head. Her scent is overpowering, her breathing has slowed since her little hissy fit, and she is warm, so warm. Seconds, or maybe minutes later, she pulls away from me and presses her thumb under my chin.

"I'm sorry for being a dick. I don't know what my problem was. Max just bugs the shit out of me, or maybe it was the babysitting, or that obnoxious Stacey. I don't know, but I'm sorry."

"Sasha." I correct her with a smile.

"Same thing—a whore is a whore is a whore."

"Lisa!" I gently swat at her chest. The muscles underneath feel harder than I remember. She's been working out daily . . . briefly, my thoughts travel to what she looks like under her black T-shirt, and I wonder if her body has changed since I last laid eyes on it.

"Just saying." She shrugs and brushes her fingertips over the soft line of my jaw. "I really am sorry. I don't want to ruin my time with you. Forgive me?"

Her cheeks flush, and her voice is so soft, and her fingertips are gently scraping against my skin, and it feels so good. My eyes flutter closed as she traces the outline of my lips with her thumb.

"Answer me," she softly presses.

"I always do, don't I?" I say with a breath. I rest both of my hands on her hips, my thumbs pressing into the bare skin under her T-shirt. I expect to feel her lips on mine, but when I open my eyes, her guard has been drawn up. I hesitate, but ask, "Is something wrong?"

"I had . . ." She stops midsentence. "I have a headache."

"Do you need something? I can ask Kim if—"

"No, not her. I think I just need to sleep or something. It's late, anyway."

My heart sinks at her words. What is going on with her, and why doesn't she want to kiss me again? Only moments ago she told me that she didn't want to ruin our short time together, yet now she wants to go to sleep?

I sigh out a quiet "Okay." I'm not going to beg Lisa to stay awake and spend time with me. I'm embarrassed by her rejection, and honestly I do need a moment alone without her minty breath fanning across my cheeks and her green eyes piercing into mine, clouding the smidge of judgment I have left.

Still, I linger a little, waiting for her to ask if she can sleep in my room or vice versa.

She doesn't. "I'll see you in the morning, then?" she asks.

"Yeah, sure." I leave the room before I embarrass myself further and lock my bedroom door behind me. Pathetically, I pad back across the room and unlock the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she will come through it.