“And they are things I have wondered myself,” I admit with a sigh.
“See? We should work together to spruce up the social life here.” She hooks her elbow through mine, coconspirators. “Dating, dancing, wine tasting, how-tos. Make that happen, Summer. I want a full life.”
Since my shift is over and I have an hour before I meet up with Oliver, I gesture toward the front door. Knowing Roxanne loves to stay active, I say, “Want to go for a walk and you can tell me what you want most?”
As we amble around the block, she rattles off her dream activities, from cheese tasting, to bar hops, to tips on how to make the most of a hookup. “But the ones I want most after the dating classes?” She leans in close to whisper, “Kickboxing and spin classes.”
“You do?” I can barely contain my rush of excitement at this unexpected and unwitting validation of a business idea I’ve been saving toward since I was twenty-two.
Over the last nine years, I’ve squirreled away nearly enough money to open a specialty gym that caters to the over-fifty-five crowd. Just a little more capital so I can pay instructors for the classes I want to offer, and I can do it. Top-notch classes are vital for the success of a gym, and hearing Roxanne’s enthusiasm—and for just the sort of classes I want to offer—is a big dose of encouragement.
“Absolutely. How else would I stay in shape for Tinder?”
And we’re back where we started. But hey, in my book, exercise is good, no matter the reason. “If it keeps the heart rate up . . .”
As we near the entrance to Sunshine Living, she says, “The best thing about being my age is I don’t have to worry about getting knocked up.” She eyes me up and down. “You, on the other hand . . .”
I hold up a stop-sign palm. If she only knew how dating and I have fared. “I’m not involved with anyone. Or dating, even.”
Her sharp gaze says she doesn’t believe me for a second. “Are you sure you don’t have a date tonight? You look different. You’re wearing black. You never wear black. And a little more mascara. Do you have a swipe-right lined up?”
I laugh, shaking my head. Dating is the opposite of what I do with Oliver. “Nope. I’m just meeting a friend after work.”
Skeptically, she regards my skinny jeans, my black boots, and my sweater that . . . Fine, this one is my favorite, and since my blue shirt was unwearable, I had to go home and change after that troublemaker put his arms around me.
“I don’t buy that he’s just a friend,” Roxanne says.
I picture Oliver’s square jaw. His flop of hair. His daring grin. The way he drives me absolutely crazy.
With complete honesty, I answer, “I’ve known him since I was wearing braces. Since I was all elbows and knees, and understanding boys was like learning how to survive on Mars.”
“And now you’re all legs and sass and energy,” she says in a flirty tone.
I shake my head, adamant. “And he’s always dating someone else. Besides, he’s helping me with the paperwork I need for my new venture.”
Her face says she still doubts me. “Is he a dragon?”
That’s a dating term I haven’t heard. “Does that mean he has bad breath?”
She shimmies her hips. “It means he brings the fire in the bedroom.”
A blush creeps across my cheeks and my skin heats as the briefest image of what Oliver might be like in the bedroom flashes before my eyes.
But I give her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. “I will never know, because he’s just a friend. And he’s my brother’s best friend at that. Ergo, nothing will happen.”
For so many reasons.
“If you say so . . .” Roxanne lets those words trail off into the evening as I say goodbye, heading across town to meet the off-limits dragon.
3
Oliver
My job boils down to three things: Reassuring. Fighting. Finagling.
I happen to be tops at all three.
Perhaps that sounds cocky.
But as my cousin Jason says, “You can’t be cocky if what you say is true.”
Fine, fine. There are about a million flaws in his logic, as I point out every time, but it’s become our joke.
Today, I’m completely confident as I reassure my newest client. “I’ve got this, Geneva. I’m going to take care of you. This is going to be the partnership you’ve always wanted.”
Seated across from me in my Park Avenue office thirty floors up, the nervous client breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you so much,” she says, her shoulders relaxing. “I had a feeling you would be the right one to call on this deal. And I’m not just saying that because we’re from the same side of the street.”
