“For the week.” He patted his slightly soft stomach. “I save my heavy exercise for the dinner table.”
Allie snorted. “Nice.”
“Allie, Allie, Allie.”
“Ye-e-es?”
“You doing okay?”
She knew what he was asking. “Yeah. You?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Don’t strain yourself.”
“Ha ha.” He turned on his side and shaded his gaze from the sun. “You and Jonas are perfect for each other. Long term. Like forever.”
“Uh...” Her insides burned with excitement, which annoyed the hell out of her. She didn’t want to marry Jonas. But clearly her fantasies were running far ahead of reality.
“No, really, hear me out. You’re classy. You grew up in a good family. You can deal with all this.” He gestured around, indicating their property. “Not everyone is comfortable in our world. I don’t blame them. It can be intimidating if you’re not used to it. Money pisses a lot of people off. They struggle all their lives and never have enough, and here we are with so much and we never even had to lift a finger to get it.”
Allie rolled her eyes behind her dark glasses. Oh, Erik. She’d never told him she grew up in a “good” family, whatever that was. He’d just assumed. Was she comfortable in his world? She pretended to be. She’d love to be. Maybe someday she could be. But he was right about one thing: he wouldn’t be too comfortable in her mom’s squalid three-bedroom apartment with five McDonald boys and however many girlfriends, all yelling at one another. Neither would Jonas.
When the Meyer boys had dinner with their parents, you could probably hear cells dividing.
She turned on her side toward him, anxious to change the subject. “I was thinking that you and Sandra are perfect for each other.”
“What?” His lips curved in a smile, belying his outrage. “You can’t be serious.”
“She’s a little wild, the way you are, but she fits here. She’s taken this place totally in stride.”
“She grew up in South Boston.”
Allie groaned. “You say stuff like that, and I just want to smack you. Seriously, Erik, who cares? She’s a class act, and you’re a moron if you can’t—”
“No, no, you’re right. That slipped out. I didn’t really mean it. See, you have to understand. Jonas and I were raised by snobs to be snobs. Neither of us really thinks money gives us value as people. But for our entire childhoods, this ‘us versus them’ philosophy was taught, by action if not words. It’s hard to shake that off.”
“I understand.” She did. Because she’d learned, from her childhood and experiences with her father’s snotty second family, that everyone with money looked down on those without. And her brothers never failed to point out that she should take pride in her poverty and stick to her own kind. Her aspirations for getting an education, dressing and speaking differently from her siblings, and making something better of herself earned her family’s scorn and permanently damaged their relationship. There were snobs on all sides.
“Sandra isn’t as perfect for me as you would have been, Allie. I need settling down.”
“You?” She lifted her sunglasses to peer at him, wondering what he’d think about her level of wildness if he’d seen her seduce his brother. “You’d be miserable settled down.”
“No, it’s time. I’m thirty. I’ve been running wild too long.”
“Well, then settle down with someone who can run wild the way you need to, Erik. Like Sandra.”
Erik was quiet for a while, scooping sand and letting it trickle through his fingers. Had she reached him? “Maybe you’re right. I need someone wilder than you. And you need someone steadier than me. Like Jonas.”
“Nah.” She kept her voice dismissive, annoyed with her racing heart. “We’re just having fun. He lives in Boston, I live in New York—”
“Where you don’t have a job. Perfect time to move.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, I can get ordained online and marry you guys.”
“Erik!” She was laughing now in protest. “Enough.”
“I’d love to have you as my sister-in-law,” he said. “You could name your first child Erik. And your second.”
Her phone rang. She dug it out of her beach bag, saving Erik from a mouthful of sand, and checked the display. Da Vinci Design! “Ooh, job phone call!”
He crossed fingers on both hands. “Good luck!”
“Hello?” Allie struggled to her feet, feeling silly taking a business call lying in the sand in a bathing suit top and shorts.
“Hello, Alison. This is Jennifer Birchfield from Da Vinci Design. I’m calling to tell you that we were impressed with your résumé and would like to have you in to talk about the assistant art director position.”
Allie whirled to face Erik and pumped her fist. “Thank you, that would be great. I’m very interested.”
Erik gave her a double thumbs-up.
“We’re talking to people tomorrow. Can you come in at four?”
“Absolutely. See you then.” Allie ended the call and let out a woo-hoo that Jennifer Birchfield could probably hear in the city.
“Interview?”
“Interview! Tomorrow! With Da Vinci! Assistant art director! I’m totally qualified. I have a good feeling about this.”
“Do you have to leave tonight?” He looked crestfallen.
Allie’s grin drooped and she felt a strange panic. No, she didn’t have to leave that night, but she would have to leave early the next morning, depending on train or bus schedules. She wouldn’t be able to get back until late tomorrow night. Or there might be a second interview she’d need to stay in the city for. Jonas was leaving Lake George first thing Wednesday morning.
Tonight could be their last night together.
* * *
JONAS LIT THE charcoal in the tiny grill on the cottage’s back deck. You couldn’t beat burgers on a hot summer evening. And these had a twist, with store-bought pesto mixed into the beef, and slices of tomato and fresh mozzarella waiting to top them. A burger caprese salad. He’d bought asparagus to grill, and of course, a bag of Lay’s classic potato chips, his favorite. And watermelon.