Shrugging, she says, “She’s doing an art school thing I’m pretty sure is just a front for a giant pot operation.”

“Seriously?” I feel my eyes go wide. I’d heard stories about California, but...

“No. I’m kidding, settle down Canadian DEA. But it seems like a pretty flaky program. I’m sure her degree will make her only marginally more employable at Burger King.”

“And you live at home still?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m twenty-two, Finn.”

“But your parents are here and you’re an unpaid intern working twelve hours a week fetching coffee. Pardon my harebrained assumption that you may rely on them for shelter.”

“I have a trust fund.” She shakes her head, pointing her pizza at me. “Don’t make that face like you’re surprised.”

“I’m only surprised you admitted it.”

“Because I should feel bad my parents were responsible with money and that I, in turn, was responsible by investing in California real estate and own my condo?”

“Should I congratulate you for knowing how to properly spend your parents’ money?” I ask through a laugh.

She leans forward. “It’s cute you think I’m a rich airhead, but I’m no more an airhead than you are a dumb lumberjack.”

“Fisherman.”

“What?”

“I’m a fisherman, Harlow.”

She licks her lips before growling, “Same. Fucking. Thing. My job might not be very glamorous but I am damn good at it. Best fucking coffee fetcher out there.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re a trip.”

“You’re a hot piece of ass.”

I lean my chair back, balancing on two legs, watching her watching me. She’s hands down the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen. Surprisingly, she may also be the smartest. “Yeah. I know.”

“So what about you? Do you have siblings? Brothers, right?”

I nod, reaching for my glass to take a sip of beer. “Colton and Levi.”

“You guys work together?”

“Yeah, plus my dad. He had a heart attack and a stroke a few years back, so he’s not as hands-on as he used to be, but he’s still always around.”

“What about your mom?”

I shake my head. “Died when I was twelve. Breast cancer.”

Her face seems to literally fall and she lifts her iced tea to her lips, taking a sip with a shaking hand before she manages to say, “Finn. God, I am...” She shakes her head, takes a deep breath, and then closes her eyes. “That is heartbreaking.”

What else can I say but, “Yeah. Long time ago.”

She blinks away and for the first time it occurs to me that she looks exhausted. “So what has you looking so beat?” I ask. “A grueling Facebooking session during your day off work?”

I can tell she’s on the verge of saying something smart in response, but her expression softens and she says, “Just looking some stuff up.”