The Hang Up (First Impressions) by Tawna Fenske

right, holding the plate up here is probably better than dribbling crumbs down the front of my shirt.”
    “Happy to help,” she said after she’d swallowed the bite. “So while you obviously don’t want to talk with your mouth full, you do want to keep the small talk flowing, especially over appetizers.”
    “I’ve never been one for small talk.”
    “Just ask questions. People love to talk about themselves, their hobbies, their families.” She took another bite of crostini, then set down her plate and dabbed at her mouth with a cocktail napkin. “So how old is Henry, anyway?”
    At the mention of the little boy’s name, Jason’s face seemed to brighten. “He’s five, going on twenty-one.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You may have noticed his obsession with genitals?”
    She laughed and took a bite of prosciutto. “I take it he greets everyone with commentary on penises and fa-chynas?”
    “Pretty much. His Sunday school teacher was not amused.”
    “That’s a pity.”
    “It actually makes a good icebreaker,” he said. “Maybe I’ll consider it for business dinner small talk.”
    “Absolutely. I’m sure the board of directors would be delighted to hear about your penis.”
    Jason laughed, and Miriam felt her cheeks flush ever so slightly. She hadn’t meant to turn the conversation toward the sexy CEO’s anatomy once again. But now that she’d said the words, she couldn’t stop remembering the sight of him standing naked in her bathroom, his torso lean and muscular, the dark trail of fine hair leading down toward—
    “This is good sausage,” he said.
    Miriam choked on her wine.
    He set his plate down and started to reach for her, but she waved him off. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she sputtered. “I don’t need the Heimlich.”
    “Okay, but I do have first aid training if you need it.”
    The thought of having him give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was enough to make her want to choke on her wine again, but she settled for eating a piece of mortadella.
    “So you and your sister must be close,” she said, desperate to steer the conversation back to safer ground.
    “Very close,” he said. “Our parents died in a car wreck when I was seventeen and Ellie was fifteen. There were no other relatives in the picture, so I took over raising Ellie.”
    “Wow,” Miriam said, impressed. “How did you manage to do that and finish college?”
    He shrugged and took a sip of his own wine. “It wasn’t always easy, but we got along okay. Just like we’re managing now with Henry.”
    “And Henry’s dad is—”
    “A grade A ass-hat,” Jason finished with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I promise I’ll keep the swearing to a minimum at the dinner event. But sometimes, there’s just no other word for it.”
    “Very true. I take it he’s not in the picture?”
    “Nope. The state seizes part of his paychecks for child support, but beyond that, he wants nothing to do with his son or with Ellie.”
    “That’s so sad.”
    He nodded, and Miriam caught a glint of something dark in his eyes. “It is, but we’re better off without him. For as long as I’m around, Ellie will never be alone as a parent, and Henry will always have a man in his life who adores him and enjoys spending time with him.”
    The passion in his words surprised her a little. Her own feelings about kids tended to be a bit ambivalent, though she’d wondered what it might be like to feel that sort of love for a tiny human. Watching Jason now, she kind of got it. Something in his love of his nephew touched a soft, dormant part of her heart.
    “They’re lucky to have you,” she said.
    “Nuh-uh. I’m lucky to have them.”
    Miriam was about to ask another question when something bumped her shin. She glanced down to see Phuzeei ramming his head against her leg.
    “There’s the little pervert who gave you a glimpse of my junk,” Jason said as he bent down to scratch the cat behind the ears. “Hey, big