(let me) love youIn which a night of tequila leads to Frank in her bed, and Karen comes to terms wit

(let me) love you

In which a night of tequila leads to Frank in her bed, and Karen comes to terms with loving him and letting herself be loved in return.

When she gets to Nelson’s, Jessica is slouched at their corner table, systematically working her way through a plate piled high with pastries.

“Hey, Theo.” Karen walks up the counter and orders her usual latte. “You know she doesn’t need the sugar, right?”

Theo grimaces at her in apology. “Didn’t know how to say no. She scares me a little,” he confesses. “All my brother’s friends do. No offense.”

Karen smiles. “I actually take that as a compliment.”

Jessica offers her a maple-glazed doughnut as Karen sits down with her things. There are small holes gouged out of the top. Jessica shrugs. “I ate the bacon already.”

“Trish is the vegetarian,” Karen reminds her.

“It was a fifty-fifty shot.”

Karen pulls out her leather portfolio and tries not to glance over at Frank’s empty seat. She tries not to think about every other Friday they’ve spent there, Frank bowed over his blueprints while Karen reads and sips her coffee. And eats a muffin or two, now that Jessica’s taken to coming along, squarely inserting herself in the corner between them so she can people-watch from behind her mountain of pastries.

Karen’s never seen any reason to protest. It’s helpful to get Jessica’s professional input as she edits; Foggy had introduced the two of them for exactly that reason, apart from his muttering that Jess could do to have more than one friend. Besides, she and Frank seem to baffle each other, which Karen also enjoys.

Before she fucked it all up, anyway.

Almost as though she’s read her mind, Jessica says through a mouthful of croissant, “So, where’s tall, dark and roughed-up today?”

one.two.