Claire asked. They sat at their chairs, each working on their computers. “In all the time you two spend together, if you’re not—you know?” Rhees giggled, nervously. “Claire!” Claire shrugged. “I know it’s not that. Why do you think I’m asking?” They turned their chairs to face each other. “We talk. We read, work on computers together, cook. Well, I cook. Paul watches and tries to help, but he’s pretty hopeless in the kitchen.” She smiled at the thought of him lurking in the background, unsure of what to do with himself, but never abandoning her to cook and clean alone. At least he kept her company. “Sometimes we dance. He’s always asking me to teach him. He says he wants to look like he can keep up when we dance in public. I’m not sure why he thinks he can’t. His mother insisted her kids take dance lessons for a couple of years, so he knows all the traditional ballroom—”
