Free She's All That by Kristin Billerbeck Page B

completely unattainable, a guy who will always have a twenty-something babe on my arm no matter how old I get.” He swings his hand through the air. “Line up to get your heart broken. You know, Trump without the comb-over.”
    I shake my head. “It’s not possible. The dog gives you away. If you can commit to a dog, a woman is the next logical step. A guy with a dog is practically begging for a woman in his life. The only thing worse giving you away is the loft you own. Owning your own place, having a dog—you practically scream ‘Desperately ready to commit!’”
    â€œI don’t believe it. Bond probably had a dog.”
    â€œBond definitely did not have a dog. He was attached to his sports cars and martinis, remember? Besides, I’ve always imagined Bond with terrible breath for some reason. You’re not Bond. You’re minty-fresh.”
    â€œYour nose,” Nate taps me on the tip of it, “is in the wrong business. You should be in perfume. Although you’ve probably done lifelong damage from all the Lysol you inhale. You’re probably killing off brain cells at a rapid rate, which might explain your dog issue.”
    â€œSpeaking of smells.” I grab my handy can of essential oils spray and give the loft a thorough spraying, but it’s not strong enough, and I’m quickly reaching for the Lysol. “Can you show me how to use this machine? The espresso smells even better than Lysol. Could it be that a little coffee pod could spare me buying Lysol in bulk?” I walk over to the gleaming, stainless steel espresso machine. It glistens with opportunity, and I reach out to stroke it.
    He walks over. “No pods. Okay, you take some ground coffee. Only freshly-ground, capisce ?”
    â€œ Capisce ,” I echo. “You’re so metrosexual,” I purr, which just cracks him up.
    â€œYou tamp it down.” As I watch Nate, his eyes meet mine. I don’t think I’ve ever looked him in the eye. They’re hazel, and there’s a spark in them that belies his boring exterior. My mouth is hanging open as I study him as if for the first time, and suddenly, we both snap our attention back to the machine. He finishes the rest of the espresso lesson without saying a word. “Everything here seems to be fine now. I’m going upstairs.” He looks toward Kim, whose voice has gotten considerably less bubbly. “You have got to get her help, Lilly.”
    I nod. “I know.”
    Nate hands me the espresso with a perfect blanket of cream in an espresso cup. A jerk would never own a specialized espresso cup. That’s as metrosexual as they come. The strong espresso scent beckons my nose. I can hear Poppy’s liver warnings as I taste my first sip. “It’s heavenly.”
    Nate nods nervously and heads for the door.
    â€œDo you have to rush off? Come sit down for a while.” I pat the kitchen chair.
    Nate shakes his head. “I’ve got to get back to Charley.”
    I think I scared him. I’m not usually so needy, but man, tonight I’m like Anna Nicole Smith-needy. “Your espresso machine!” I shout after him.
    â€œI’ll get it tomorrow.” The last part is muffled behind the closed door.
    I just noticed the color of his eyes, for goodness sakes. I wasn’t going to maul him. Maybe I’m giving off desperate vibes, like the wives he’s been watching on television. I’ll admit I’m depressed after seeing Nana. It seems as though she respects everyone else’s career, but nothing is good enough for me. She can actually fawn over a guy who sits on his duff and watches TV for a living, but thinks fashion design is akin to street-walking for me. I know she wants what’s best for me, but why do I have to fit in such a small round hole when I am clearly a square peg?
    I look down at the new dog pillow I’m making for Charley because of his ear drains. I