Anyone But You. Jennifer Crusie

glanced in the closed window of the second-floor apartment. “I don’t know this guy yet. He keeps strange hours. Be very, very quiet here, Fred. We want the neighbors to love you.”

      Fred shut up and eased himself down another step.

      “I love you, Fred,” Nina whispered as she backed down the metal stairs. “You’re the best.”

      By the time Charity came back, Fred had done the fire escape twice and was philosophical about it. “We’ll take walks, too,” Nina promised him. “But this is going to work.”

      “He can do it?” Charity walked back into the room after putting the ice cream in the freezer and shook her head, amazed. “I wasn’t gone that long.”

      “Fred is very intelligent,” Nina told her. “Watch.” She opened the window. “Here you go, Fred. Born free.”

      Fred scrambled onto the box Nina had put by the window to aid his exit. He turned to look once over his shoulder, and Nina nodded.

      Then he hurled himself through the window.

      “Oh, my God!” Charity ran to the window, Nina close behind.

      Fred sat on his rug on the fire escape, looking smug.

      “Part basset, part beagle, part kamikaze,” Nina said. “We have to work on his takeoff, but he’s pretty good, don’t you think?”

      Charity stepped back from the window. “I think he’s great.” She smiled at Nina. “I really do. He smells, but he’s great.”

      “Well, that’s what I thought, too.” Nina watched Fred sway down the fire escape to the backyard.

      “Here’s the rest of your stuff.” Charity handed over the paper bag she’d been clutching. “Your change is at the bottom.”

      “Thanks, Char.” Nina dumped everything out onto her round oak dining table and pawed through it, stopping only when she found a small jeweler’s box tied with a silver ribbon in the middle of the pile.

      “That’s a baby present,” Charity told her. “I’ll give you a shower later.”

      Nina opened the box and took out an oval sterling-silver name tag engraved with Nina’s address under a lovely script “Fred Askew.”

      “Oh, Charity, it’s beautiful,” Nina said.

      “Just in case he gets lost.” Charity watched as Fred’s top half appeared in the window, wobbling back and forth as his toenails scrabbled on the brick outside. “Or stolen.”

      “I think I’d better put a box outside, too.” Nina put the tag down and went to haul him in. “He seems to have a rear-end-suspension problem.”

      “Among other things,” Charity said. “Listen, I’ve got to go.”

      Nina put Fred on the floor and straightened. “What about the Amaretto?”

      Charity bit her lip. “Can we do it tomorrow night? We both have to work tomorrow morning, and I’m going to need you a lot more tomorrow night since it’s a Friday and…you know.”

      Nina nodded. “I know. Fridays are the worst. Sure. That’ll be better. You can spend the night.”

      Charity looked down. “That all right with you, Fred?”

      Fred sighed and waddled off.

      “He’s delighted,” Nina said.

      “Yeah, I could tell he perked right up,” Charity said. “See you tomorrow.”

      THE PHONE WAS RINGING when Alex let himself into his stuffy second-floor apartment. He answered it, cradling the receiver between his shoulder and his ear as he struggled to put the window up and let a little air into the place. “Alex?”

      Great. Debbie. “Yep, it’s me.” Alex stuck his head out the window, trying for some fresh night air. The hell with it. He climbed out the window and sat on the fire escape, taking off his shoes and socks and throwing them back in through the window as he talked. “What’s up?”

      Debbie’s voice was relentlessly cheery. “I thought we might do something tomorrow since it’s your birthday. And my sister’s kids want to go to the movies, so I thought we could—”

      “Sorry,” Alex lied.

      “Alex, if you’d just try—”

      “No, really, I’m booked the whole day with my family. One after another the whole damn day.”

      “Why?” Debbie sounded frustrated. “Why can’t they see you all at once?”

      “Because they’re all trying to talk me into specializing in their areas.” Alex flexed his toes in the breeze and felt better. Maybe if he gave up wearing shoes—

      “Well, I think they’re right,” Debbie said. “If you specialized in something else, you’d make more money.”

      “I have all the money I need.” Alex stripped off his white T-shirt while she was talking, so he missed what she said next. “Give me that again?”

      “I said, you have loans to pay off. Being in debt isn’t bad for a bachelor, but what about when you want to get married and have kids?”

      Alex sighed and threw his shirt through the window. “Debbie, we’ve had this discussion. I don’t want kids.”

      “Well, not right now, but someday you’ll want a family and then—”

      “I have a family,” Alex said. “They drive me nuts. Why would I want another one?”

      “A family of your own,” Debbie said.

      “Debbie, you’re not paying attention. I don’t want kids. Ever.”

      There was a long silence on the end of the phone, and Alex realized that she’d heard him for the first time.

      “I do,” she said.

      “I know,” Alex said. “That’s why I’ve been trying to warn you. I like you a lot. I have a good time with you. But I don’t want kids. I don’t even want to get married. I’ve had family up to here. I don’t want any more.”

      “Well.” Debbie cleared her throat. “Well, all right. I guess there’s not much point in us seeing each other anymore then, is there?”

      “Not unless you just want to kick back and have a good time.” Alex knew he was supposed to be panicking at her ultimatum, but all he could dredge up was a mild willingness to try again. “We could see some movies. Talk. Just be us together for a while. Get to know each other.”

      “Alex.” Debbie’s voice was tight with controlled anger. “We’ve been dating for six weeks. We know each other. We have seen enough dumb movies and done enough talking. I want a future. I want it all.”

      “Well, I hope you get it,” Alex said cheerfully. “Good luck.”

      Debbie hung up on him.

      Alex put the phone on the windowsill and leaned back against the fire escape again, trying to decide if he was depressed that Debbie was gone. He wasn’t. In fact, the only depressing part was that he wasn’t depressed. He should be depressed. Debbie was a very nice woman, but he didn’t care at all that she was out of his life.

      He was a slime. Worse, he was turning into Max.

      Still, he’d stuck it out with Debbie for six weeks. That was pretty good. Maybe next time, he’d find a woman who was happy just to be with him, cruising through life and the video store, without a need to produce more family obligations that would make him crazier than he already was.

      There was Tricia, the little blonde in the business office. She’d asked him to dinner once, but he’d turned her down gently because of Debbie. She seemed nice. Maybe Tricia would be more interested in food and Casablanca than in