Perfect for You

museum ," Anna stressed.
    "Shit."
    She nodded. "That's what I thought. What are you going to do about him?"
    "Nothing."
    "What?" She gaped at him. Surely she heard wrong.
    "I'm not going to do anything about him," Greg repeated. "I will ask Freya out though."
    "Why should she say yes? She's going out with Connor."
    "That's his name?"
    "Yeah." She waited for him to say something, but it became apparent he wasn't going to so she urged him on. "You have to do something."
    "No, I don't." Greg took a calm sip of coffee.
    "What happens if Freya decides that this guy Connor is who she wants?"
    "She won't."
    "Sure, be all quietly confident, but you don't know Freya."
    "I know enough to know she won't pick him without going out with me first."
    "I'm missing something here." Anna narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What aren't you telling me?"
    "Nothing that you need to know." He frowned at her. "Do you need to go to class or can you have breakfast?"
    She perked up. "Breakfast." But even as she said it she wondered if Max was around and if he'd like the chance to cook for her.
    It was time to see him again. She just didn't know how to play it—did she invite herself over again for food or did she ask him out for a drink? She frowned.
    Greg set a plate in front of her. "You have something against toast?"
    "No. Toast is great." She opened the jar of jam he set in front of her. "I was thinking about a different problem. A guy."
    He raised a brow. "Your own guy?"
    "Yeah." She pursed her lips. "At least he will be once I convince him of it."
    "The poor guy doesn't stand a chance against you."
    "He really doesn't." She smeared jam on a piece and offered it to him. "I just need to figure out my next move."
    "Go for honesty," he suggested as he accepted the toast. "Any guy who isn't flattered by a pretty young woman choosing him isn't worth it."
    She batted her eyes at him. "You think I'm pretty?"
    "The way a Venus flytrap is." He ducked the napkin she threw at him. "Just be careful, okay?"
    "Are you saying you care, Shrek?"
    He yanked her ponytail. "If I didn't care, do you think I'd let you torture me before I'd had my first cup of coffee?"
    She grinned. "True. Very true."
     
     
     
    When she came back that night, Anna had a plan.
         1: Intercept Connor.
         2: Kiss Max.
    Not that she was entirely sure how she was going to accomplish either goal.
    But she was smart—she'd figure it out. And she had intel. Freya had told her she was going to an early dinner with Connor, so she figured she'd park somewhere unobtrusive and wait for him to drop her off at home.
    She huddled in her jacket, trying to get comfortable in her car. If only it wasn't so cold. She looked at Freya's building, specifically the lights on in the downstairs apartment.
    Max was home.
    Max could warm her up.
    Later. First she needed to focus on Connor.
    Who the hell named their kid Connor? Anna shook her head. His brother's name was probably Norm. Sure, she'd often thought her parents had been smoking the ganja when they came up with Freya's name, but at least it was cool.
    So Connor.
    Dealing with him would be tricky, because Freya had already gone out with him twice, plus who knew how many exchanged emails. He was going to know a fair amount about her sister, so she had to tread carefully. A casually made up story wouldn't work.
    A fancy sedan pulled up in front of the Victorian. Anna craned her neck to see the occupants.
    Bingo.
    Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she waited for them to get out of the car. Like she expected, the Connor guy walked Freya to the door. Then he put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her.
    "Ugh." Anna gagged and looked away. She was relieved that it was over a second later when she looked back.
    Freya smiled at the guy and went inside.
    Thank God. Anna exhaled in relief as she exited her car. How awkward would it have been if she had to charge in and disrupt them getting on.
    Connor was five feet from his car when she cut him off. By the looks of him, conning him would not be easy. He carried himself with a self-assurance that would be hard to shake.
    Good to know. She smiled brightly and waved. "Hey! Did I see you leave Freya?"
    "Yes," he answered cautiously, assessing her. "Are you a friend of hers?"
    "Just her sister," she said with an offhand wave. "You must be Connor."
    The pleased surprise on his face almost made her sorry to deceive him this way.
    Almost. "She's told me about you," Anna said with a