“To start, we can talk about how you really can’t spend the rest of your time in Key Ridge applying to jobs. That’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

“More depressing than an unemployed twenty-eight-year-old?” she challenged.

I leveled her with a look. “Are you kidding? An unemployed twenty-eight-year-old sounds exciting as hell.”

“Maybe to someone like you,” she mumbled, barely audible.

“I heard that. And I’m choosing not to take offense to your stuck-up little attitude. Just because I’m not working some corporate job does not make me worse off.”

It was easy to be underestimated. I didn’t have a fancy job or a college degree. Most of the time, it didn’t bother me. The life I’d built kept me surrounded by like-minded people. But I wasn’t completely immune to it. Plenty of dates had written me off the moment they learned that little detail, as if skipping college hadn’t been a deliberate choice that I made.

“Sorry.” Frankie at least had the decency to look guilty. Her life probably so heavily revolved around what someone’s job title was, or where they worked. Just as she was an enigma to me, I was likely a mystery to her.

I took a sip of wine, letting it slosh around in my glass before I leaned in closer to her, doing my best to ignore her pillowy lips. “Let me help you.”

Her eyes widened at that. “Help me with what? Landing a job? No offense, but I hardly⁠—”

I held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there before you lob another mildly offensive insult in my direction. I’m not talking about your employment situation.”

She set her glass down and angled her body toward mine. “Then what are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. Life. Fun. Adventure. I’ll help you let loose a little and not become this boring person who only cares about what title they’re holding.”

“I don’t only care about that,” she objected. But when I raised an eyebrow and dipped my chin, she snapped her mouth shut without further argument.

“Look, you said it yourself. You were planning to call it an early night, only to fill out more applications. I know we just met, and I know you’re going through a bit of a crisis, but that’s sad, Frankie.”

“Most would argue that’s actually the responsible thing to do,” she pointed out.

“Well, I’m not most people. And you’re telling me you can’t find time in that packed schedule of yours to have a little fun?”

She didn’t answer immediately, her eyes losing focus as if weighing her options. “I don’t even know how long I’ll be here.” The protest was weak, and I knew I almost had her.

“All the more reason to live it up while you’re here,” I said. “Soon enough, you’ll be back at a desk, plugging away at whatever it is you do. But right now, you can spare some time and actually enjoy yourself.”

She leaned back in her chair. Her eyes moved to the window, where large snowflakes now fell outside.