Greg walked in carrying his gym bag.
He was sweaty.
And wearing a T-shirt.
“Hey.”
Brittany looked at the shirt.
“Nice outfit.”
He was sweaty.
“Thanks. It’s from my new collection.”
I laughed.
Greg opened the refrigerator.
No flexing.
No unnecessary stretching.
No sudden need to discuss his body.
“Thanks. It’s from my new collection.”
He took out a bottle of water.
Then he looked at Brittany.
“Seriously, are we okay?”
She considered it.
“We will be.”
“Fair.”
“Seriously, are we okay?”
“I meant what I said last time.”
“So did I.”
Brittany nodded.
That was enough.
Greg started to leave, then stopped.
“Oh. Reese?”
“Yeah?”
“I meant what I said last time.”
“Your business partner is terrifying.”
Brittany didn’t look up.
“Quarterly sales meeting. Stay dressed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He disappeared upstairs.
Brittany waited until his footsteps faded.
“Okay.”
“Quarterly sales meeting. Stay dressed.”
“What?”
“That was better.”
“Much.”
She returned to the spreadsheet.
No celebration required.
About an hour later, Greg came downstairs again.
Still dressed.
She returned to the spreadsheet.
This time he was carrying Mini Greg.
“You kept him?” I asked.
“Of course.”
He set the cardboard figure on the kitchen counter.
“Why is he here?”
“You kept him?”
