Free Perfect on Paper by Destiny Moon Page B

matters,” he said.
    “Really?” she asked. It seemed like a line.
    “Yes. And I don’t have anything against people who make plans. I just don’t want to fall prey to the fallacious idea that we can predict what the future will hold.”
    “I don’t either,” she said. “But that said, I’m still saving for retirement.”
    “Me too, but I refuse to live my life for RRSPs.”
    Nadine eyed him. “Benefits and savings plans are the main reason I returned to the bookstore.”
    “But you want to leave it to run your own business. That’s pretty ‘in the moment’ of you.”
    Nadine smiled. David was a lot more perceptive than she gave him credit for.
    “Let’s finish up so I can take you upstairs,” David said.
    Nadine nodded. Her confusion was over. It was true that she didn’t know what the future would hold. But she knew that right now she had a gorgeous man who was helping her and she would never regret spending the afternoon with him. She could never regret letting him dote on her and help her out with her new endeavor. It was terribly sweet of him and maybe this was her good karma to have this brief tryst with this sweet, puppy dog guy. She didn’t know what it all meant and it didn’t matter. One more coat of lacquer and they could call it a day.
    Nadine wanted to ask David more about his travels, but she was afraid. It was a trigger—a reminder of all the unsatisfying years she’d spent behind a desk doing less than what she loved, being less than fully alive. She didn’t have an opportunity to ask because David had questions of his own.
    “So, what’s it like to be back at the bookstore?”
    She rolled her eyes. “You really want to talk about that place, don’t you?”
    He shrugged. “We did meet there.”
    “It’s okay, I guess. It gets me a little depressed sometimes because of all the old, familiar faces.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “Yeah. I mean Sue Ellen, Hank, Amarjit, Toby and the whole trade books floor were all there when I started ten years ago.”
    “So?”
    “So, have you ever heard them complain about their lives? Sometimes at staff meetings, I just want to wear earplugs because their conversations are exactly the same. Nothing has changed.”
    “Some people don’t like change.”
    “I know, but most of these people complain about stuff they could totally fix if they wanted to—like Hank and how he wants to make a short film. He’s still talking about that. Like, just make the damn film, you know?”
    He nodded respectfully. He listened.
    “What?” Nadine asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “Seriously. What were you just thinking?”
    “Well, just that it’s not really your business what they do or don’t do with their lives, so I don’t know why it’s getting you down.”
    “I’m just afraid of being like that, being one of them.”
    “Nadine, you are nothing like them.”
    “You say that so confidently, but sometimes I’m not convinced.”
    She had stopped applying lacquer. She stood up and took a step back to look at her accomplishment. The wardrobe was complete. It just needed to dry.
    “I don’t believe you,” he said. David saw an artist standing before her glorious work. He saw her reverence for wood, for historical pieces, for understanding exactly what needed to be highlighted from the past, modernized and protected.
    “No?” Nadine said in a low and humble tone.
    “No. You left your other career to follow your heart. I don’t believe for a second that you’d do that unless you believed deep inside that you’d be successful at it.”
    Nadine looked at him. He was still squatting on the floor, still brushing an awkward area in the underbelly of the dresser that nobody would ever see but it seemed to matter to him—just as it did to her—that it was covered.
    “That’s a really nice thing to say, David.”
    “Well, I’m a nice guy.” He smiled and winked at her.
    “I know.”
    “But I’m not just nice. Don’t think I’m one of those pushover guys