The Secrets of Attraction Read Free Page A

else, let’s forget about this convo, ’kay?” I grabbed my mother’s tea and turned my back to him.
    â€œI hope you wanted this iced,” I said. My mother smiled, and tucked her phone into her bag.
    â€œOh, Mads, I forgot, thanks,” she said, taking it from me.
    â€œI’ll meet you out front.”
    â€œNo, wait, we’re done here.” She wrangled her black hole of a purse open again, and took out her keys. “Leif, thanks, I’ll be sure to check those out.”
    â€œLet me know if you need anything else, Dana.”
    They’re on a first-name basis now?
    I walked toward the front door, willing myself not to turn around, but in the reflection of the glass I could see Tanner making exaggerated hand motions at Jesse, who just shook his head . . . and smiled. Like, a real one, teeth and all. I was too irked by what had gone down to say good-bye. As I pushed out through the front door, I wondered if he’d remember his offer to buy our chai lattes next week. My money was on probably not .
    â€œSo what were you and Hot Yogi talking about?” I asked my mother as she cut the wheel yet another time before finally pulling out of the parking spot. Parallel parking had never been her strong suit, and it took her almost as long to get out of the space as it had to negotiate getting into it in the first place. Once she straightened out the car, she sped down the side street.
    â€œMadison. Hot Yogi? His name is Leif.” There was an amused lilt in her voice.
    â€œC’mon, he knew your name. You guys were chatting; just wondering, you know—if you’re into him.”
    She made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “Into him? I’m old enough to be his mother.”
    My mom was going through a major dating dry spell. The better word was probably drought . The last more-than-one-date boyfriend/man-friend/suitor I remember her having was when I was ten. You and me against the world, Mads , she’d say, whenever I joked about it. Mom prided herself on being self-made, and it was great but sometimes I wondered if she was waiting for me to go off to school before really hooking up with someone. Not that she needed anyone, but didn’t everyone need a little fun now and then?
    â€œBut you can’t deny his hotness.”
    We stopped at the red light and she raised her hands in surrender. “Fine, you win, I can’t deny his hotness, but I can forget about it when I’m talking to him.”
    â€œOkay—how? Because I can’t.”
    â€œSimple,” she said, reaching for her chamomile. “I can compartmentalize. Leif’s not dating material but he’s got more experience than me in yoga, so I’m attracted to his brain.”
    I snorted. “His brain? Why?”
    She sipped her tea as we sat at the light.
    â€œI’m . . . well . . . I’m thinking of becoming a yoga instructor.”
    I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Wow, instead of hair?”
    â€œNo, mostly as a supplement, but I don’t want to be in the salon forever. Standing up all day, holding my body at weird angles is taking its toll on me. Once we started practicing yoga, I felt better, had more energy. My nerves aren’t as frazzled at the end of the day—you know, I feel even .”
    â€œAnd Leif is going to help you?”
    My mother fiddled with her cup until it was back in the holder. The light turned green. She eased through the intersection, absentmindedly playing with her hair as she drove the five blocks home.
    â€œWe were talking about programs, turns out the studio is starting up a teacher training session in a few weeks. He gave me some book titles, websites—I’m still just thinking about it. With classes and materials . . . it’s not cheap.”
    â€œOh.” Money. The Grim Reaper of dreams.
    â€œBut it’s not un doable, either. I can take on some clients