“Have you looked at the books?” I asked. The late-winter dampness clung to my coat as I hung it on an iron hook by the front door.

“Waiting for you. Thought it’d be a good test of your memory.”

“I’ve made five business purchases in the last month and posted them all to accounting.”

“Always good to check. Plus gives us time.”

“We’ve had a lot of time together the last few months. You’ve got to be getting sick of me.” I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a fresh cup of coffee. One sip, and I knew I’d be wired all afternoon.

“You make that sound like a bad thing.” She set her phone down, blue eyes studying me.

“We didn’t see much of each other last year.”

“And your near-death experience has made me want to change that,” Brit said. “The thought of being alone is terrifying.”

That tempered some of the annoyance I’d felt since I’d walked into my apartment. Like it or not, we were the only family the other had.

I moved toward my desk, checked the middle drawer, and saw that the copied notes appeared undisturbed. I closed it and reached for my laptop. “The accounts should reconcile easily. There’s one new invoice for the Saturday wedding. Again posted.”

She slipped on gold-framed glasses and glanced at the spreadsheet on the computer screen. “You’re keeping better track of receipts.”

“I always have.”

She made a face. “You’ve a very unique system.”

“It all made sense to me.”

“Tell that to the IRS.” She closed the laptop without comment.

“Your little girl is growing up.”

“So it seems.” She glanced at her left hand and her gold-and-onyx college ring. “What do you think about David?”

“He seems nice.”

“We’re getting serious,” she said. “I think he could be the one.”

That was a bit of a shock. I’d never thought Brit would find anyone good enough. But she wanted children, and the clock had to be ticking.

“I guess you can thank me for that,” I said.

“I suppose you’re right. Though that would’ve been a terrible swap—you for him. A Faustian bargain.”

Would it have been that terrible for Brit? We’d seen each other barely twice last year, and there was the trust money that would go to her. “You have us both.”

She grinned. “I know. Speaking of men, I saw Paul Jones yesterday. He’s taken with you.”

“Is he?”

She chuckled, seeming to enjoy my exasperation. “He’s got money.”

“No.” Anxious to steer the conversation, I asked, “Do you think you and David will get married?”

She twisted the college ring around until all but the gold underside showed. “Who knows.”

“You know. You’ve always known what you want.”

A slight smile tipped the left edge of her lips. “Maybe. But wanting and finding are two different things.”