“Because the subject isn’t exactly suitable for two people on a pretend date.”
He paused, his gaze fixed on hers. “Right. Pretend date.” Something in his tone made her look at him closely.
“If the objective was for you to help me find suitably neutral topics, I’ve failed dismally. I did warn you. I’m not good on dates.”
“But as you keep telling me, this isn’t a proper date.” Calm, he topped up her wineglass. “This is two friends having dinner and catching up on news. You were asking me about children, although that seems like a surprising question given that you’ve already seen how useless I was with a dog.”
“You weren’t useless. I think you were lovely with Madi. If you ignore that first day when you were tired and not expecting to find your home disrupted, you were very patient and tolerant about having a very lively dog in your apartment.”
“You always see the best in people.”
“Not always. In fact I don’t think I’m good with people at all. And sometimes I’m trying to see the best because I just don’t want to believe that people can be so unkind. But you only have to spend a couple of hours working in the animal shelter to know that humans aren’t all good.”
“Do they pay you to work there?”
“I volunteer. I don’t spend much time at the actual shelter. Not as much as I’d like because I’m mostly busy with the business. Often I just drop by when they have animals that need fostering.”
“So you take them and give them back. That surprises me.”
Clearly he didn’t know her very well. “I would never refuse a vulnerable animal a home if I was able to provide it.”
“That isn’t the part that surprises me. The part that surprises me is that you’d give them back.”
“I can’t keep them all.”
“But you would if you could. And I bet you hate it.” His voice was soft. “I bet you really hate giving them back.”
“Yes. And I’ve never had a pet of my own because between the dog walking and the fostering it’s just too complicated, but now I’m starting to think I really want that.” It was the first time she’d mentioned it to anyone. It probably should have felt strange that Ethan was the first person she’d mentioned it to, but it didn’t. “I want a dog that’s mine, that I don’t hand back when I’ve walked him for an hour, or when I’ve fed him by hand and he’s old enough to go to his forever home.”
“So are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know. I only just started thinking about it, but yes. I think I will. I want to. I need to work out how I’d handle it. What compromises I’d need to make.”
“Nowhere near as many compromises as you’d need to make if you were living with someone. Speaking of which, why does Fliss think I’d be perfect for you?”
She almost dropped her spoon. “Excuse me?”
“I overheard your sister asking if I’d had my hands all over you.”
“You heard that? Oh that’s bad.” Dying inside, Harriet covered her face with her hands. “Get me out of here. Dinner is over. So is my dignity.” She heard his soft laugh and slowly let her hands drop. “You’re laughing at me? That’s cruel. Now I finally believe you’re heartless.”
“I’m not laughing at you.”
“No? Because it seemed that way from where I’m sitting.”
“I assumed you knew I’d heard that. You were very flustered.”
“I thought you might have overheard, but I was hoping you were too delirious to remember. And then you never mentioned it again.”
“You were taking care of me. I was afraid that if I mentioned it you might abandon me in my hour of need.”
Harriet poked at her food, keeping her eyes on her plate. If she’d ever had a more embarrassing moment, she couldn’t remember it. “I wouldn’t have abandoned you.”
There was a pause. “No,” he said slowly. “You wouldn’t do that. That’s not the kind of person you are.”
She pushed her plate away. “Okay, this is awkward.”
“How is it awkward?”