End of Story(6)

“Do you know any of them?”

I shook my head. “Aunt Susan knew some of them, but...”

We ate in silence for a moment. Then he held up his half-eaten plate of brisket, coleslaw, and cornbread. “You want to swap?”

I passed over my pulled pork, mac ’n’ cheese, and collard greens. No idea how it started, but swapping meals was something Lars and I used to do when we all went out to dinner. Double dating or whatever. We had similar tastes and this meant we could sample more of the menu. After all, who wouldn’t want to try two different desserts?

I tapped my fork against my lips, thinking deep thoughts. “Just to reiterate, no one knew you were coming here today before eight o’clock this morning?”

“Right,” he said.

“This is so bizarre. It’s like something out of a movie.”

He took a bite of cornbread and nodded. After he swallowed he said, “This isn’t the first time we’ve found stuff behind walls during renovations. Newspaper for insulation, tools that got dropped when the place was being built, old bottles from Prohibition, even.”

“Wow.”

“One job I heard about, they found a gun and some money.”

“Wish we’d found money.”

“What would you have done with it if we had found ten grand?” he asked.

“Something frivolous. Like go to Paris or buy a pair of Prada heels.” I smiled. “What about you?”

“Nothing. Your house, your walls, your porn collection. The money is all yours.”

“Say we’d have split it down the line.”

“In that case, add it to the fund for my business startup.”

“How sensible and mature.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he said. “We’re old enough, we should have our act together.”

“I have a house.”

“Not because you saved up and worked for it.”

“Ouch.” I opened my eyes painfully wide. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been building up my business for years.”

“Sounds like I hit a nerve.”

“Oh, you think?”

He cocked his head, and didn’t say a word.

“You make me sound like some profligate,” I said.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did. And it’s true, I enjoy pretty things, but I work damn hard for them. I invest back in my business often and my credit card and car are paid off in full.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Men like you do my head in. You know, you call yourself nice guys. So laid-back and easygoing. But then you sit back and judge the absolute shit out of people. And more often than not, those people are women.”

For a moment he just stared at me, then he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re right. I was out of line.”

“I’m glad you see that.”

“You and I have a bad habit of rubbing each other the wrong way. Always have.”

“Guess we do.”

He shoved an agitated hand through his golden hair, pushing it back off his face. He had a nice face. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Too bad he could be an utter jerk. The Ex had a tendency to see things in black-and-white too. As if the world were full of absolutes. Small-minded people terrified me. Imagine thinking you already knew everything there was to know. That you were never wrong. How the hell would you ever learn anything new?

“I’m no longer wondering why we got divorced, at least.”

Lars did the raising-one-eyebrow thing again. “It’s not real, Susie.”

“I know, I just...” I watched a butterfly fluttering around the lavender plant by the front steps. “We don’t even have any chemistry.”

He paused. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No.” And he said it so matter-of-factly.

My eyebrows all but kissed the sky. “Huh.”

“Not that it matters,” he said. “You dated my friend so there’s no way.”

“Ah, the bro code.”

“That’s right.”

“You dudes, you’re so principled. I love that about y’all,” I drawled.

The hint of amusement was back in his gaze. “Susie, in another life, if we actually got together, I honestly think we’d be lucky to last five minutes. Don’t you?”

“Probably.”

And then he smiled. He had a great smile. Dammit. So maybe there was something there. Just not anything that would ever be acted upon. That much was certain.

“That’s wild,” said Cleo later that night on the phone. She was a photographer, and a kindred spirit. We met years ago through work.

“Right?”

“Do you think the house is haunted?”

“I love that you ignored logic and jumped straight to that conclusion.”

She laughed. “There’s a reason we’re friends.”

“I was thinking that the hole is a split in the space-time continuum.”

“That would work,” she said. “Though that would also require you to marry and divorce him at some point in the future.”