Lizzie had been grateful for the impromptu docent duties that morning as it had mostly kept her from thinking about her own potential trap. Seated behind her desk once more with a lot of paperwork waiting, it became impossible not to ruminate on 'the Nigel problem' as she had begun to think of it.
Six little words.
"I want us to be exclusive," he had said to her last night, taking her hand across the table. She hoped the dismay didn't show too clearly on her face, but he had at least recognized surprise. Studying his earnest face, Lizzie had to admit not many women would say no to that offer.
Nigel was tall, dark and handsome for sure. He cooked like a dream and he had a laugh that warmed like a stove on a winter's afternoon. Lizzie enjoyed the strength of his arms and the concentration in his face when they made love. Nigel made sure she was satisfied, whether he was preparing dinner or eating her out.
So why in the world wouldn't she want to have that all to herself?
Her phone buzzed and Lizzie saw the number she had been half-expecting to flash there.
He was why.
"Hello, Jake," Lizzie could almost hear herself purr.
"Can you meet for lunch?" His tone was casual, but that didn't fool her.
She snorted. "Will I get any food out of this?"
"You could pick something up on the way!" He rang off without even saying good-bye.
That was Jake: impetuous, fun-filled, demanding and unpredictable.
And that was why she didn't immediately agree to Nigel's proposal. She had strong feelings for both of them; why did she have to choose? A gorgeous guy who cooks? A life-of-the-party guy who thrilled her? She had three favourite restaurants and at least a dozen favourite artists. Why only one boyfriend? It made her want to stomp her foot and cry in her best two-year-old voice, "It's not fair!"