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who’d been on four other disastrous dates. “How?”
    “Same story. She scared him off.”
    Brenna picked up her pen then set it down. Back to work. From Hunter to Helen. Life was back on track. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
    That evening when Brenna got home, she puttered about trying to reorganize her thoughts. She didn’t care that he hadn’t shown up. She admired his ambition but had recognized an impulsiveness in him that made him unpredictable. She found unpredictability an undesirable trait in a man. Were she to choose her prefect match, he would be a stable, grounded, financially successful man with no wish for children.  Simple in his desires and not in the need of a pseudo mother or hooker, but rather a companion. Hunter wouldn’t make a good companion. There was something a little too wild about him, uncontrollable and diverting. He probably had decided to choose someone from his undoubtedly thick black book. Good luck to him. At least he was out of her life.
    Brenna walked over to the bookshelf, wondering what book to bury herself in. She stared at the rows of books that lined the far wall then turned away. She wasn’t in the mood to read. She actually wanted company, which was rare. Books or a good selection of songs usually provided enough company, but tonight they felt like an empty activity.  Since Tima wasn’t home, she decided to visit her brother who lived in a reddish-brown high rise apartment twenty minutes away. She pushed back a bit of envy when she saw a couple playing tennis and an older man jogging the pristine grounds. Two activities she could never do. She walked to her brother’s apartment and knocked.
    Stephen opened the door, filling the doorway as he looked down at her. He pulled on his goatee and scowled. “Hello?”
    “Hello. I came for a visit.”
    He playfully narrowed his dark brown eyes. “Do you have the entry fee?”
    Brenna held up a pot of stew.
    He nodded and stepped aside.
    Her brother lived well for a single man. She loved the authentic Peruvian rug that took up most of his living room, the faint scent of cedar from a chair he’d made years ago and the over stuffed gray couch sitting squarely in the living room. But it was the lighting that gave the simple room unmitigated elegance. Her brother was a lighting genius, although he’d never admit it. He could make the smallest, dullest room look beautiful. She never understood why he didn’t leave the company he worked for and strike out on his own. Unfortunately, he didn’t have her drive.
    They ladled their stew into small white ceramic bowls then went into the living room. Brenna sat on the couch. Stephen sat on the floor. He’d always preferred that position although no one in the family could understand why a six foot four inch person would choose the ground.
    “So what did Mom have to say?” he asked.
    She shot him a glance. “Can’t you guess?”
    He raised his voice and imitated her tone. “Why aren’t you married?”
    Brenna laughed. “Very good.” She glanced around. “I should invite her to come here.”
    Stephen shook his head. “Won’t work. She can’t say anything to me. I’m still married.”
    “Separated.”
    “Which means I’m still married.”
    “Fiona shouldn’t count.”
    He turned to her. “What do you mean she shouldn’t count?”
    “There should be a law against marrying a bore.”
    He frowned. “A bore?”
     “Yes, she has no ambitions, no interests.”
    He shrugged. “Not everyone is as career driven as you.”
    “She doesn’t even have a hobby.”
    Stephen flashed a grin. “I wouldn’t say that.”
    “I don’t consider sex a hobby.”
    He sent her a sly look. “Then you’re not doing it right.”
    “The problem with you is that you don’t want anyone to take you out of your comfort zone.”
    He pointed his spoon at her. “And your problem is you try to fix everyone else’s life but your own.”
    “My life is fine.”
    “What was the name of your last