Absolutely Not in Love (Sweater Weather, #7; Appies, #2)

by Jenny Proctor

“Are you going somewhere?” The question comes out sounding almost like a judgment, so I quickly add, “I only ask because you look really nice. Not that you don’t always look nice. You do. But tonight, with all the black. You—good.” I close my eyes and wince. You good? I might as well beat my chest and grunt like a caveman. She looks down at her clothes. “Oh. Thanks. I have a gig tonight.” “Ah. Now all the black makes sense. With the symphony? What are you playing?” I’ve been meaning to look up the Harvest Hollow Symphony. See when their performances are. And not just because of Gracie. It’s something I wanted to do even before I knew she played the cello. “Not the symphony tonight,” she says. “It’s just a quartet. We’re the background music at some sort of business bureau dinner thing happening downtown.” “How does a gig like that rate compared to the symphony?” She purses her lips to the side. “Nowhere near as good as the symphony, though it does pay better. But not as bad as a wedding.” “What’s wrong with weddings?” She shoots me a droll look. “Have you ever noticed the cello part in Pachebel’s Canon?” I love that she’s talking to me like this—opening up a little. “I’m guessing it’s not very exciting?” Her lips lift into a wry smile. “It’s the same eight notes played over and over again.” “I see your point,” I say. We stand there a few more seconds until the awkwardness is almost too much to handle. Why is it so awkward? Is it me? Or is it just that she doesn’t want to b...