Read Online Enlisted by Love by Jenny Jacobs - Free Book Online

give Michael an ultimatum, and she was still in the wanting-to-please-her-man stage, which Greta felt she could very well get over. Boundary-setting was imperative in any healthy relationship.
    So was compromise. The thought popped into her head and try as she might she could not dislodge it.
    With a sigh, Greta dug deep and found a charitable excuse for Ian’s behavior: he didn’t realize he was imposing on Tess. He was just spending time with an old friend while his house was being put into order, and he didn’t realize how disruptive his presence was.
    Did she believe that?
Grr
. She took a deep breath. She would believe it, at least for the amount of time it would take to finish the project. Ian was unaware that his presence was an imposition. Michael, for his part, was glad to see an old friend and didn’t realize that Tess found Ian an obnoxious boor — though she hadn’t exactly said that. Ian was not a sensitive man. You couldn’t expect better from him. She might just have a tiny talk with Michael.
    â€œWhy don’t we make the master bedroom our next priority?” she suggested and relaxed a little when she saw Tess’s obvious relief. “We can get someone out right away to turn that extra bedroom into a home theater.” She named a local electronics store that she always relied on for anything to do with home entertainment, though personally she disapproved of the entire concept. “We can put a microwave on a cart in the kitchen until we have a chance to get to it. He isn’t going to be doing any gourmet cooking in the next few weeks anyway.” If she knew men, and she did, he’d be subsisting on takeout and frozen burritos long after his kitchen was fully equipped and totally operational. “That’ll cover the three main necessities.”
    â€œFood, sleep, and?”
    â€œFootball.”
    â€œRight,” Tess said, looking surprised.
    â€œI understand men perfectly,” Greta said crisply. She saw Tess smother a smile, which she prudently ignored. She reached for the folder labeled with Ian’s name. “What does he have in the way of bedroom furniture?”
    â€œJust a futon,” Tess said, taking the folder from her and leafing through the photos she’d taken to find the one that showed it. She pulled it loose and handed it over.
    â€œNo,” Greta said, putting it aside on what she immediately designated as the garage sale pile. “No one should have to sleep on a futon once he or she is out of college. Not even Ian. That’s worse than a sleeping bag.”
    â€œWhat if he insists on keeping it?” Tess asked.
    Greta looked at her.
    â€œOh, right,” Tess said.
    Greta flipped through the stack of photos in the folder, looking for suitable bedroom furniture, then stopped and tapped one with her fingernail. “What is this? Is this a real armoire or a television cabinet?” The piece of furniture had gracefully curving lines and an attractive reddish finish accented with gold leaf. It was possible that he had deliberately chosen such an attractive piece with an appreciation of its grace and fine proportions, but it was more likely that it represented accidental aesthetics. Occasionally even an individual with no sense of discernment whatsoever got it right, through no fault of his own.
    â€œI don’t know,” Tess admitted, glancing at the photo. “I didn’t think to open it up to look.”
    Greta would have, but perhaps not with Ian hovering nearby. She’d have wanted to finish as quickly as possible, too. “That’s all right. I need to take a closer look at this — ‘collection’ I guess we can call it — anyway. I haven’t even begun to conceive of what his living room is going to look like.”
    Tess opened her mouth to make a suggestion. Greta could tell from the twinkle in her eye that it wasn’t something she wanted to hear. She