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dull. I need to buy some new blades.”
    “I think I have a utility knife.” He leaned down to open his briefcase. The bag was so full he could barely squeeze his hand inside. He pulled out a fat white envelope and set it on the table next to his book, then tried again.
    Surprised, she watched him rummaging. She hadn’t taken him for the spontaneous type. From what she’d seen the day before, he fought change tooth and nail--like Ron.
    She frowned to herself and switched on the coffee pot. First he brought her a gift, now he was jumping at her whim. She couldn’t help but suspect he was trying to get on her good side so she’d change her mind about the studio.
    “Here it is.” He pulled a utility knife from the bag and slid out the blade. “Do you think this will work?”
    “As long as the blade hasn’t been used too much.       Are you sure you don’t mind lending it to me?” She made a wry face. “I might return it to you dull.”
    “Actually, I thought I’d start the job for you now, if you really do want to rip up the floor.” He lifted his brows in an unspoken question.
    She stared at him, not sure how to interpret this. If he was trying to indulge her, she wondered how far he’d take the game. She waved the back of her hand over the linoleum. “By all means, take a stab at it.”
    As the coffee maker began to trickle and fill the room with the aroma of a Sumatra brew, he walked to the outside wall and stooped near the corner. She stepped up behind him and peeked over his shoulders, momentarily distracted by the V-shape of his back, a form Michelangelo could have sculpted.
    He slit into the linoleum and peered under the corner. Until that moment she hadn’t quite believed he would do it.
    “There’s another layer,” he said over his shoulder.
    “Cut it.”
    Now that she knew he meant business, her curiosity kicked in. As he bent forward a second time, she shifted along with him. She could feel the heat of his cotton-covered thigh next to her bare shin.
    He pulled the first layer back, revealing an even uglier pattern below. Cutting a small slice into it, he wrested the corner loose and yanked it. Only after the third layer did he reach the bottom. Leaning closer, she got her first peek at the original brickwork floor.
    “Wow.” She squatted next to him for a better look.
    “Nice.” He turned to her and smiled. “Are you sure you want to get rid of the linoleum? If I cut much more, we won’t be able to put it back down.”
    “Oh, please.” She laughed. “Slice away.”
    He turned back a large portion of the first layer, using the knife whenever a spot got sticky. Together, they rolled the piece back across the room until the dinette set got in the way.
    “Can we move this?” he asked, nodding toward the table. “Or will it be too heavy for you?”
    Having struggled with it before, she knew exactly what effort the move would take. “I could handle one end, but it would be asking too much of you. You didn’t come here expecting to take on a home improvement project.”
    “How do you know?” He grinned and stepped to the far end of the table. “Can you get that side?”
    Realizing she wouldn’t be able to do the job on her own, she decided to accept his help. But his comment made her wonder what he had come expecting. As they struggled with the heavy piece, the envelope he’d left on it caught her eye.
    “What’s in the package?” she asked between grunts.
    “My new manuscript.” He shuffled backwards into the adjoining dining room, whose empty state made it useful, for once. They set down the table, and he brushed his hands together. “Actually, I was hoping you’d take a look at it...and consider letting me include your house.”
    Learning that he had a second reason for coming doubled her suspicions. She should have known that the urge to apologize wouldn’t have been enough to bring him back. Now she saw his real purpose, hidden within this proposal. His books had a