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glanced at me inquisitively.
    “Oh, no, sorry. They’re muffins. Banana.”
    “Can I have one, Uncle Nate? Please? I’m starving.”
    Nate accepted the offering and nodded to Sam. “Go sit down, and be more careful with the juice this time. I’ll be there in a minute.” He returned his attention to me as Sam ran off. “You didn’t have to do this. I’m glad I could help.” His mouth twitched. “I do have a question, though.”
    “Sure.” Yes, I’ll go to bed with you .
    What was wrong with me? I hadn’t felt like this in years.
    “What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up?”
    “I’d still be there, probably, with a gaggle of onlookers laughing at me while I cried.” I cringed at the mental image. It honestly could have turned out that way. Or worse.
    He waved a hand in dismissal. “Nah, someone would have helped.”
    “I’m just glad you didn’t have a camera.”
    Nate shook his head, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he laughed. “Well, I’m going to start carrying one around with me. I realized this morning I could’ve made a bundle off that picture.”
    “You think? Who would you have sold it to?” I was beginning to doubt my taste in men.
    “You.”
    Ah, a tease. I liked being teased. My faith was restored. “Uncle Nate! I’m hungry!”
    Nate looked into his apartment; then he looked at me and said, “He’s getting antsy. I should go feed him.” Did he seem regretful? Or was that wishful thinking?
    Nodding, I backed up a couple of paces. “Have a good day. Thank you again.” God, this was it; he was going to close the door. I needed to say something. I needed to remember how to flirt. Now .
    “Um, Nate?” My brain fumbled around, trying to find what to say, something that would draw his attention so that he’d feel compelled to, I don’t know, ravage me.
    “Yes, Elizabeth?”
    “Um … you never did show me your ID.” And this, my friends, is what happens when you blurt without thought.
    “You want to see my ID? Now?”
    “No.” Come on, be smart, be charming. “Why would I need to see that now? You live here, like you said you did, and you were wearing a uniform. I’m good. I don’t need the ID.” Everything came out in a rush. An idiotic, blathering rush.
    Nate tipped his head and examined me silently. Examined was the correct verb, by the way, as he could have been looking through a microscope at an unknown species of larvae. Did larvae have species?
    “Did you bang your head last night?”
    Great, now he was concerned. About my head.
    Well, I was acting a bit crazy. I tried to look normal. “You know what? Maybe I did. I can’t remember. Anyway, I have to finish my rug.”
    “Uncle Nate,” Sam said, back at the door, tugging at his uncle’s pants.
    “It’s okay. You know …” I broke off.
    Nate nodded. “I know. You have to get back to your… rug, was it? Well, thank you for the muffins.”
    “Uh-huh, I hope you like them.” I turned on my heel and tried to walk naturally back to my apartment, which wasn’t that easy on rubbery ankles. Plus, I could feel him watching me.
    After I was securely inside my door, I crumpled to my knees in defeat. The pounding of my heart filled my ears. My stomach sloshed with nervous ness. I was horrible at flirting. It possibly would be a good plan of action to get some more information—so I’d be better at it next time.
    Flirting for Dummies , perhaps? Did they make a book like that? They had to. I couldn’t be the only woman in the universe who needed it. Other women got divorced. What did they do?
    I could stop at the bookstore near A Taste of Magic on my way home on Monday. This was my new plan until the image of purchasing such a book, with such a title, in public, brought me to my senses. Which was when I remembered the Internet was a far better choice. You could buy everything from a toothpick to a new house to “Sultry Lights” online. Gotta love it.
    Standing up, I looked—really looked—at my