That evening he printed out her sketch. He expected something ornate, but this was relatively classic. He texted her it looked good, and she called him right away.

"You're alright with it?"

"Sure. I'm always happy to be busier."

"I'm sorry."

"I was kidding. I don't care as long as you're paying me for it."

"I'm not paying you. Sydney is. You can bill it through me and I won't even take a cut."

"You should get paid for your design."

"What that? It took me fifteen minutes to sketch that up." She lied.

"Really! Because it was very well done, I can tell you're an artist."

"Okay maybe a little longer, but I like to draw."

"Alright, well I don't want to keep you but, I'm putting together a list for you."

"I'm just working, so you're not keeping me from anything."

"I figured after being away you'd be spending time with your husband," he said hesitantly. Although since seeing her on Thursday, he had been wondering about the golden couple.

"It's fine I always work at night."

"Me too and tonight, I'm putting together a list of lighting fixtures. Hopefully, you're happy with the quantity. If you want to make changes, I need to know quickly we'll plaster the ceiling as early as next week. Do you have a preference on the pattern?"

"Thanks. Now I have more work to do. Hey, how are my mom and dad?"

"They're fine. They miss you, but I'm back to being the favored one." He teased. Rick was fine, but Alice hated her daughter being gone again. Alex assured Alice she'd be back and forth which made her feel better.

"Great, now I remember why I hated you."

"Past tense hated, does that mean you don't anymore?"

"Not at the moment."

"Good. Okay, let me know about the plaster and the lights. Goodnight."

He hung up before she could respond. She was easy to talk to. He enjoyed sparring with her. It was like talking to Kate. Only Kate knew him better and could be mean, even though she loved him.

He worked on the lighting list and thought about the ceiling. Perhaps he should send her some of his preferred patterns to choose from. He texted her three pictures, one was his favorite because it looked like shells.

She responded in less than five minutes. I love the shells. Now you're the talented one.

What the hell! Why did her compliment just give him a feeling down there? He needed to recite rule number one: make sure they don't belong to another guy. There was no doubt about her score there. That wasn't true. Since she left lips were suddenly loose around The Point. He overhead conversations that included speculation about why she had stayed away and why when she came back she stayed so long. Interestingly enough even Alice joined the conversations. According to Alice, Jen hardly spoke to her husband on the phone while she was staying with her. She also whispered that when they talked, Jen seemed irritated.

Alex, himself, had witnessed a tête-à-tête between them that she wanted to keep private. He didn't share his information, because he knew better than anyone what it was like to be the topic of gossip. He believed she used the Thompson house to get away from some issue with her husband. It didn't mean they had serious problems, so he was right back to rule number one.

What was most interesting was he and Jen spoke daily about something. Typically, unless he needed an immediate answer, they spoke in the evenings. She was always available to talk and when he asked if he was interrupting anything, she'd say she was just working. He worked a lot, but not all night, every night.

He tried to come up with a reason to call as he drove home the beginning of her second week back in New York. He was acutely aware they hadn't spoken all weekend. He flipped through the channels, but nothing was on. He felt like a loser when he settled on an HGTV house flipping show. Thankfully, it was almost April then he could watch the Sox most nights. He was stretched on the couch nodding off when his phone rang.

His heart jumped when he heard her voice, get a grip, he chastised himself. Remember rule number one.

"Did I wake you?"

"I was just watching TV and apparently falling asleep." He turned the television off with the remote.

"I'm about ready to order the lights, but I didn't know where to have them sent."

"Oh, right." He thought for a minute. "I guess you should send them to my house. I have an enclosed porch where all the courier services leave packages. As long as I don't need to sign for them, that is."

"Okay, that should work, thanks. So what's the address?" He told her. "So that was your house I saw you go into that day. I wondered why you never said anything."

"Why? Because it's your business, we all deserve privacy." Impulsively, he said, "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen. You should know you were the buzz for a few days after you left."

"Why does that not surprise me? What replaced me as the talk of The Point?"

"Some bad news, that may be good for me." He explained that one of the summer residents was sick, which meant it was possible that the cottage could be available soon.

"Will you do another flip?"

"No, I want a house for myself. I love my house, but I want to live on The Point so I'm not some stranger anymore."

"Ouch!" She laughed and his heart flipped at the sweet sound. Then he heard a voice in the background and she said, "Av, I'm on the phone... working. Give me a few minutes."

"Do you need to go?"

"No, my friend Avery just wants me to have some ice cream with her."

"So you're working, but you're not home? Sure you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I really can't." Then abruptly she added, "I should go."

She was gone, and he was still stretched out on his sofa with his phone in his hand. Oh man, he was in trouble. For a lack of anything better to do, he went to bed early and tossed and turned.