Liza smoothed her hair and turned to fake a cough and put ChapStick on. Nothing she could do about being dressed like a hobo, though. He, however, looked like a full-course meal. Liza snatched her eyes away from his strong thighs in the slim jeans, but then made the mistake of looking up into the full force of his gaze. How was no one else pinned to the floor like a butterfly specimen? A low-voltage current buzzed from her center out to the tips of her fingers and toes. Okay, avoid eyes. But then she would be forced to focus on the outline of his abs in the thin black sweater, or that damned messy man bun that she wanted to braid then mess up again. There was no place on that body safe for Liza to look. But she had to admit that—scratch that, she didn’t have to admit anything.

She scanned for faults. She supposed this was his attempt at casual. But the worn leather jacket was so soft and buttery-looking that she knew it had to be Italian. His shoes looked like simple high-tops, but she had dated a sneakerhead once and knew those were Rick Owens Geobasket shoes in some type of animal skin. Liza was pleased to find something she could scorn. Those shoes cost about the same as a used Honda Civic, and he was walking around Merrytown in them?

“Do you have it?” David, ever cheery, was holding up the tree’s trunk as he pushed Dorsey through the door. The crisp smell of evergreen flooded the apartment. They obviously should have called someone to get a sense of the apartment dimensions before they purchased this Rockefeller Center tree.

Granny grinned. “I always wanted a real tree,” she said. “You can put it here.” She motioned toward a worn-out tree skirt and a tree stand. David made a funny show of grunting, gaining laughs from the women in the room, while Dorsey’s face was flat and impassive. David let the top of the tree drop to hug everyone. Dorsey grunted as the weight of the tree tipped him forward. Wide-eyed, David touched ceramic Precious Moments figurines and examined Liza’s moving boxes and the plastic-covered carpet like he was touring the Vatican.

“You guys want to stay to help us decorate it?” Granny pointed toward her boxes of ribbon ornaments and tinsel. Granny’s voice must have knocked David out of his poverty tour because he dropped a faded doily into the hanging ferns.

Dorsey blustered, “No,” at the same time David said, “Yes.”