“That’s quite a commitment on your part to volunteer to feed it.” She raised her eyebrow. Maybe she should get a cat just so Jake would keep stopping by. And a dog so they could walk their dogs together. Every night.

“I like to find homes for strays. My first kitten followed me home one fall out in Fire Island.”

“I hadn’t taken you to be such a softie.” She tilted her head, smiling.

“Why not?” he smiled engagingly and held her gaze. “I’m not the killer litigator.”

“I’m quite friendly unless you happen to be opposing me in a lawsuit. Then you might be in trouble.”

“Only then?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his steepled hands and focused on her. As opposed to Tim, pushing out his legs, leaning away.

She raised her eyebrow, questioning, determined not to get flustered.

“So …” he drawled, maintaining eye contact.

“Yes?” she asked.

“A coloring book?”

She giggled. “It was billed as the perfect gift for surfers!”

“Don’t believe the hype, and I speak as a marketing guru.” She couldn’t believe he was in her garden and they were chatting casually.

“So modest.”

“No room for modesty in marketing.”

“I’m a sucker for marketing,” she said.

“I was hoping you’d say marketing men,” he quipped.

“Too easy.” She smiled. “I don’t think I’ve met many marketing men.”

“We can remedy that,” he said.

Yes, please, but really, she just wanted to get to know one particular marketing man. And not just as a friend. But she shouldn’t be distracted from her goal of making partner.

“Have you had dinner? I was thinking of ordering something in. Like fish,” he teased.

“I wonder why.” She peeked up innocently. “I’ve got a chicken cranberry curry dish that Eve made and froze for me. There’s enough for two if you’d like that. It’s scrumptious, and I’m not biased because she’s my best friend.”

“Sounds great. Does she cook for you often?”

“I’m her number one guinea pig. She’s pulling together her menu for a catering business. And her cooking is so much healthier for me than take-out.”

“Can Biscuit come in too?”

“Of course.” She petted his head. “We’re not going to leave you alone outside.”

She slid open the sliding door to her bedroom, relieved that she’d made her bed that morning.

He commented that he liked the painting on the wall above her bed. It was a bright blue and green abstract painting she’d bought at a New York art fair. Jake and Biscuit followed her up the stairs into her kitchen. Jake stopped short at the cans of beer stacked up against her brick wall at the far end of the kitchen. “Why do you have a wall of beer? Or is that some kind of artistic Warhol statement?”