Free Some Like It Perfect (A Temporary Engagement) by Megan Bryce Page A

want her to learn how to show up and get the job done.”
    Gus looked between them. “I’m sitting right here.”
    Delia said to Jack, “Is your ceiling getting painted? The job’s getting done. I don’t know why getting there at the gong of a clock matters.”
    “It shows respect.”
    “It shows that you’re anal. And I respect my work. I may not respect you, I might not respect that pile of glass your money bought you, but every brush stroke on your ceiling is a part of my soul. You can see how I think, what I believe, who I am, who I wish I was in everything I paint. You could see that if you looked at it.”
    Jack and Gus stared at her.
    “Every bit of it has to come from within me, every bit of it open to five-second critiques, careless dismissals, and just flat-out dislike.”
    She tried to hide it, she tried to hide what she really painted. But it was still there to be seen by any passing Joe if he cared to look hard enough.
    She didn’t particularly want anyone to look hard enough. She especially didn’t want anyone looking too hard at the ceiling she was currently painting her soul into. It wasn’t a particularly flattering view of herself.
    Jack said softly, “Why do you do it?”
    “I can’t not do it. I’ve known what I wanted to do, what I had to do, forever.”
    He nodded. “I’ve known what I was going to do, what I had to do, forever.”
    Her gaze sharpened. “But it’s not what you want?”
    “Want was never part of the equation.”
    Gus ate her salad and flicked her eyes between them.
    Delia said, “Want is always part of the equation.”
    “Money is part of the equation, responsibility is part of the equation, duty is part of the equation.”
    Delia looked down at the steak that money, responsibility, and duty had paid for.
    She knew a lot of people would disagree with her, probably most people, but she thought too much money might be just as bad as not enough. She’d had plenty of experience with not enough. It was bad, she wouldn’t deny it. But there was a certain freedom in having nothing to lose.
    She asked, “Do you think want is less important than money, responsibility, and duty?”
    “Yes. Perhaps. I have always assumed so. Do you think it’s more important?”
    “Yes. Maybe. I always have in the past.” Delia glanced at Gus. “But I live on my friend’s couch, so I might have been wrong. It might be just as important, not more than.”
    Jack looked at Gus in her grown-up school uniform. “It might be just as important, not less than.”
    Gus took a long drink, looking between the two of them with her eyebrows raised, then said, “Um, are we going to order dessert?”
    Jack looked at her half-eaten salad and Delia’s half-eaten steak. “I don’t think so.”
    Delia and Gus made faces at each other as their plates were cleared.
    Jack handed over his card to the waiter and Delia perked up. “Expense account?”
    He huffed a laugh. “No.”
    They walked the short distance back to the offices and Delia breathed in the chill air. She said, “If you know anyone with a spare bedroom, let me know. I really miss sleeping in a room with a door.”
    Gus nodded. “I’m looking for a place, too.”
    Jack stared at her. “You are?”
    “I can’t live with you and Mother forever.”
    Jack looked like he’d thought that was exactly what she’d do. He’d looked like he’d expected to have to kick her out like Delia had told him to.
    “And how are you going to pay for it?”
    “I have a job.”
    Delia and Jack stopped.
    Gus turned slowly, trying so hard not to grin at them that her lips looked like little puckered berries. “I told you I was filling paperwork out all morning.”
    Jack crossed his arms. “Who hired you?”
    “HR. They needed someone to take applications and make copies and update the job openings. They wanted someone proficient in database but I told them I was quick with computers. I’ll learn.” She shrugged. “I told you they were looking for