âYeah, well . . . you know.â
âI donât know, thatâs why Iâm calling. Itâs not like you to cut out in the middle of business deals to chase skirts.â
âI donât chase skirts and you need to show some respect. Katrina is a lady,â I chastised.
âIs she ever!â He whistled in admiration. âYou gonna get with that or what?â
âWhat did I just say about respect?â I repeated.
âAw man, you serious about this one. Okay. Okay. When are you coming back?â
âA few days, a week tops.â
âGood, âcuz I gotta make a decision and you gotta help me make it.â
Chris had to decide whether he was going to play professional football or go to business school. I could see the pros and cons of each, but ultimately it was his decision to make. âWhich way are you leaning?â
âIâm not; I keep swinging back and forth. And Grandpaâs no help. Keeps telling me to pray on it and listen whenââ
ââGod whispers in your ear. Yeah, thatâs one of his favorites.â
âWhat does that even mean?â Chris puzzled.
âIt means youâll know what to do when the time is right. But Iâll be back and weâll talk it all out, okay?â
âThanks, bro. And hey?â
âHey?â I prompted.
âDonât do nuthinâ I wouldnât do. I mean, if you get in over your head handling a woman that fine, you can fly me in for reinforcements. Katrinaâs only whatâthree or four years older than me?â
âSeven years. But donât you worry your knuckleheaded self about it. I got this.â I hung up on his laughter and shook my head. Youngsters always had jokes. I switched the phone to vibrate and leaned back to relax once more. I had drifted into a peaceful state between sleep and wakefulness when Katrina stormed outside. I raised one eyelid. Oh hell, she had her mad on. I closed my eyes again.
âWhy donât you have a woman? Whatâs wrong with you?â she asked without preamble.
âWho says I donât?â I teased.
âOh, come on. Iâve heard you and Beau say it often enough. You may be a scoundrel, but youâre a gentleman. No way would you be hugged up on me if you had a woman at home.â
âThatâs true. You might know me better than I thought you did.â I raised my glass to toast in her general direction.
âSo whatâs wrong with you? A man doesnât get to be your age and unmarried unless heâs a dog or heâs damaged or both.â
My age? Ouchâthat hurt. She and Chris had me fitted for a walker already. âWow. You donât know me. Generalize much?â
âSomethingâs holding you back. And please donât tell me you havenât met the right woman yet.â Her tone was snarky.
âIâm selective,â I explained.
âYou mean picky.â
âI mean discerning,â I clarified, amused by her not-too-subtle attempts to get to know as much about me in the shortest time possible.
âOh, really?â
âReally.â
âWhat does it take to make the cut?â
âWhat do you care? Youâre at the front of the line,â I countered.
âThereâs a line?â She sounded offended.
âA short list,â I amended.
âDo tell. What magical powers must a woman possess to make it to Carter Parksâs short list?â
âLook in the mirror, diva. Youâre the total package.â
She was silent for a minute. âDammit.â
âBeg pardon?â
âI was trying to be mad and you had to go and say something sweet.â
I opened my eyes and took another sip of my drink. âYouâre trying to be mad?â
She flounced over and perched beside me. âWhat are the rules here? Are we doing this for real?â
âYou lost me, Kitty. Speak it plain.â
âThis whatever between
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