Free Outside the Lines by Amy Hatvany Page A

something about him,” she said, referring to Jack.
    “Other than the fact he started off our conversation by irritating me, there wasn’t much. Though he did manage to talk me into volunteering there on Tuesday night.”
    “Really? Doing what?”
    “Cooking. He said the best way to find my dad was to get to know the kind of people he spends time with. Build relationships with them. Like maybe they’d keep an eye out for him or something. Or maybe my dad would just show up there.”
    “Makes sense. You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”
    The waitress arrived with our plates, which really should have been called platters. Mine was overloaded with the cinnamon roll French toast I’d been craving along with a huge mess of scrambled eggs and maple link sausages. Georgia had gone for broke and ordered the strawberry blintzes with eggs and sausages, too. It all smelled heavenly.
    “Oh, holy yum,” Georgia moaned as she closed her eyes and took the first bite. “My trainer is going to kill me for this.”
    “So don’t tell him.”
    “I don’t have to. It’s like he smells the extra fat cells on my ass.”
    I snickered, trying not to spit out my food. “Yet another reason I don’t have a trainer.”
    “You don’t have a trainer because you have a freak-of-nature metabolism. It’s a miracle I put up with you.” She winked at me, then looked thoughtful. “So, I think this guy irritating you is a good sign.”
    “Really?” I mumbled with my mouth full of warm, sweet bread slathered in syrup. I felt my serotonin lifting, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the sugar rush or just spending time with Georgia.
    “Yep,” she said. “It means he pushed your buttons. No buttons pushed means there’s no sexual energy going on. It’s classic psychology.”
    I sat back against the padded booth and twirled my fork. “Do tell, Dr. Freud.”
    “Oh, it’s not Freudian. It’s experience. My best lovers have been the guys who irritate the shit out of me. Remember Dean?”
    I laughed. “Our sexual-harassing kitchen manager? I still can’t believe you actually slept with him. Yuck.”
    “I know. It was sick.” She stuck a strawberry in her mouth and chewed, waving her fork in the air as she spoke. “But he was hellishly good in bed. A total asshole. But you know, whatever a girl has to endure to get off.”
    At Georgia’s loud pronouncement, the couple at the table across from us stopped their conversation and turned their heads in our direction.
    “Nice!” I said, ducking my head down and shaking it in disbelief. “Have you no shame?”
    Georgia ignored my question. “You know who else pushes my buttons, don’t you?”
    “Men with big fingers?”
    She ignored me again. “Your hot little brother. That boy is getting fine .”
    “Um, ew? He’s my brother, Georgia. He’s a kid.”
    “A kid with massively multiplying muscles, my friend. I’m working out at his gym, remember? You should see him look at himself in the mirrors. His cocky attitude pisses me off.”
    “And you find this appealing?”
    “I know, I’m twisted. But can you say ‘boy toy’?” Her eyes sparkled as she took an entire sausage link in her mouth.
    The guy at the table across from us hadn’t taken his eyes off her. His female companion noticed this and kicked his leg under their table. “What!?” he exclaimed, and she shot him a dirty look.
    “I’m actually going to Bryce’s competition today,” I said. “I promised my mom if I didn’t have to work I’d find a way to fit it in, so I asked Juan to cover the first part of my shift. Want to come?”
    “Can’t. I have an appointment.” Since many of Georgia’s clients ran Fortune 500 companies during the week, she had to make her coaching services available pretty much 24/7. Their schedule was her schedule.
    “Who is it this time?”
    “Some start-up geek who wants to learn to be more assertive with his staff. He’s practically twelve, so that shouldn’t be a