Nick was afraid that she would start crying, at which point he would just have to walk out. But instead she looked him in the eyes and her harrowed expression twisted into a grin. “Aw s**t,” she muttered stabbing the cigarette into an incongruous shell ashtray. “I don’t know why I’m even bothering to ask. So. How’s Nick?”
“Working a little.” He escaped into banalities about tropical birds for a minute, then changed the subject. “Father MacDougal was by, and asking about you all.”
“What did you tell him? I don’t mean that like it sounds. I like him. Though I don’t know what he thinks about me. He’s such a charmer it’s hard to see through to what he’s really thinking.”
“He calls you a ‘grand girl.’”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. He does like to flirt, doesn’t he? How does somebody lik
