A woman with curly jet-black hair to her shoulders and a well-defined body turned toward me and smiled. She wasn’t as tall as me, but she had more in all the other departments. If I won the battle a few minutes earlier, I was sure to lose the war with Angie back in town.

“Angie, this is Reese Capshaw. Reese, this is Angie Flynn.”

“So nice to meet you. Cute top.” She nodded to my Life is Good top with a huge sunflower on the front of it.

Cute. I was cute.

She was killing it in a red dress and heels.

Trying to not completely deflate, I rummaged through my emotions for a friendly expression and nailed it to my face. “Thanks. Nice to meet you too. Fisher’s family had so many amazing things to say about you.”

Fisher eyed me from a few feet behind her, eyes a little squinted as if he wasn’t happy with me for saying that.

Angie twisted her body to look at him. “Aw … your family is the best. They really feel like my family after all these years.”

Fisher lifted his eyebrows, lips curled into a reluctant smile as he gave her a nod.

“Well, let’s go. You can drive, babe.” She tossed Fisher her keys. “I don’t know where we’re going.”

Babe …

I slithered into the back seat behind Fisher’s seat as Angie climbed into the passenger’s seat of the white, compact SUV.

“Are you in college, Reese?” Angie asked before we pulled out of the driveway.

Yay … this line of questioning.

“Nope. Just working for Fisher this summer.” I didn’t have the energy to make myself sound any more promising like, “I’m taking a gap year,” which insinuated I’d be starting college, only a year later.

Angie won. Rory would be home in less than a week. There was no need to try.

“Fisher is the most talented human I have ever met. He’s always been good at everything. Such a natural. But what’s it like to work for him?” She reached over and squeezed his leg, his upper thigh.

I glanced up in the rearview mirror and caught his gaze on me. Totally unreadable.

“Fisher’s an okay boss.” I glanced out my window.

Angie laughed, moving her hand from his leg to the nape of his neck. “I can see that about you. I bet it’s your intensity. Such a perfectionist, huh, Fish?”

He didn’t respond. I felt sure he had some expression to give her, but I didn’t want to see it.

Babe … Fish …