Not Quite Perfect
Page 22
Mary felt a chill of shock run through her. “Are you thinking of moving?”
Dakota exchanged glances with Walt. “We’re keeping our options open. This place is going to get smaller as Leo gets bigger.”
“And the market is turning around,” Walt added.
She hated the thought of her friend moving away but smiled and agreed anyway. “Any idea where you guys will move?”
“We haven’t really thought about location . . . just that here isn’t going to work long-term.”
Mary painted on a fake smile and pushed her plate away. “You know how much I love shopping with other people’s money.”
“I won’t be up for house shopping until this thing comes off.” Dakota patted the blue cast on her leg and groaned. “I still can’t believe I broke my damn leg.”
The conversation drifted to the cast, baby Leo, and the excitement over midday napping while Mary helped Walt with the dishes.
As Leo started to stir Mary started to make her excuses.
“I want to hear all about tomorrow’s date,” Dakota said.
“I don’t.” Walt laughed.
“I’ll come over Sunday.” Mary let herself out and turned to look back. She hated the poor me thoughts coursing through her veins. Despised the feeling of loneliness when she walked past her car in the garage and into her place.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
No wonder women pushing thirty owned cats.
Mary shook her head and muttered to the wall, “I hate cats.”
Chapter Nine
Dakota had the best shoes, and Mary felt no shame in borrowing a pricey pair for her date.
“You’re like a sister I never had,” Mary called out as she ran back home with a pair of Pradas dangling from her fingertips.
“I want details.”
Dakota stood in the doorway with crutches. She’d managed to get dressed in something other than sweatpants and was starting to lose the dark circles from under her eyes.
Something told Mary that Dakota would be sitting at her living room window peeking out when Glen was due to pick her up. The thought delighted her.
She hadn’t been much of a girlie girl before she’d met Dakota. But her friend had taught her the finer things about being a woman. From the dresses she wore that were snug on her hips and made her sensible “girls” have a little more pow, to the extra eye liner and red on her lips. This was the let’s go out and have fun Mary . . . the Mary that didn’t present herself to her clients, and didn’t appear too often.
She slid her hands down her hips and turned to the side. The newest of her black power dresses hugged her waist and stopped short of her knees. The cap sleeves offered style to the neckline that dipped low enough to be enticing but high enough to avoid advertising her cup size. Not bad.
Her mass of curly blonde hair had a mind of its own. She messed with a few bits in the front, put way too much hair spray over them to tame them down, and left it alone. She’d considered putting it up, but Dakota usually helped her with that style and Mary wasn’t about to ask.
She was sliding her feet into her borrowed strappy Pradas when the doorbell rang.
One look out the front window showed her a black sedan, the kind that had a hired driver, sat at the curb.
She unzipped the plastic divider and stepped over the broken out tile.
There were butterflies in her belly. The giddy girlie kind that were a little out of place considering she’d seen Glen on so many occasions the newness should have worn off.
She opened the door and sighed. He wore a jacket, minus the tie . . . and dark slacks. Even from where she stood she could smell he’d just taken a shower. And he held flowers in his hand.
While she was looking at him, his ever-ready cocky smile slowly dropped as his eyes swept over her twice. “I’m sorry, I’m looking for Miss Kildare.” He looked beyond her at the tarp and tapped the concrete floor with the toe of his dress shoe. “I’m not sure I have the right house.”
“My plumbing problem turned into a nightmare.”
His gaze returned to hers. “You’re, uhm . . . wow!”
Glen speechless was a rarity.
She liked it.
“Are those for me?”
He lifted the bouquet. “First date flowers. It’s in the rule book.”
She took them, smelled one of the half dozen roses in the mix, and smiled. “Not everyone read that book.”
“Makes those of us who did look even better.”
She nodded toward the inside. “Let me put these in water and grab my purse.”
Glen followed her through the tarp and into her kitchen.
The four-inch heels made it easier for her to reach the shelf where she stored her vase, but as she reached for it, Glen stood beside her and helped.
God he smelled good.
“Thanks.”
He simply hummed as he handed it to her.
She tried to ignore the heat in his eyes as he stared.
“I’d say you didn’t have to.”
“But that wouldn’t be sincere.”
“You can’t go wrong with flowers. Candy is hit and miss.”
She removed the wrap and fanned the arrangement in the vase as it filled with water. When she was done she set it in the window and turned to find Glen still staring.
“Ready?”
He didn’t move. “Have you ever had dessert before dinner?”
She shook her head. “Are you trying to tell me we’re having cheesecake for dinner?”
Dakota exchanged glances with Walt. “We’re keeping our options open. This place is going to get smaller as Leo gets bigger.”
“And the market is turning around,” Walt added.
She hated the thought of her friend moving away but smiled and agreed anyway. “Any idea where you guys will move?”
“We haven’t really thought about location . . . just that here isn’t going to work long-term.”
Mary painted on a fake smile and pushed her plate away. “You know how much I love shopping with other people’s money.”
“I won’t be up for house shopping until this thing comes off.” Dakota patted the blue cast on her leg and groaned. “I still can’t believe I broke my damn leg.”
The conversation drifted to the cast, baby Leo, and the excitement over midday napping while Mary helped Walt with the dishes.
As Leo started to stir Mary started to make her excuses.
“I want to hear all about tomorrow’s date,” Dakota said.
“I don’t.” Walt laughed.
“I’ll come over Sunday.” Mary let herself out and turned to look back. She hated the poor me thoughts coursing through her veins. Despised the feeling of loneliness when she walked past her car in the garage and into her place.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
No wonder women pushing thirty owned cats.
Mary shook her head and muttered to the wall, “I hate cats.”
Chapter Nine
Dakota had the best shoes, and Mary felt no shame in borrowing a pricey pair for her date.
“You’re like a sister I never had,” Mary called out as she ran back home with a pair of Pradas dangling from her fingertips.
“I want details.”
Dakota stood in the doorway with crutches. She’d managed to get dressed in something other than sweatpants and was starting to lose the dark circles from under her eyes.
Something told Mary that Dakota would be sitting at her living room window peeking out when Glen was due to pick her up. The thought delighted her.
She hadn’t been much of a girlie girl before she’d met Dakota. But her friend had taught her the finer things about being a woman. From the dresses she wore that were snug on her hips and made her sensible “girls” have a little more pow, to the extra eye liner and red on her lips. This was the let’s go out and have fun Mary . . . the Mary that didn’t present herself to her clients, and didn’t appear too often.
She slid her hands down her hips and turned to the side. The newest of her black power dresses hugged her waist and stopped short of her knees. The cap sleeves offered style to the neckline that dipped low enough to be enticing but high enough to avoid advertising her cup size. Not bad.
Her mass of curly blonde hair had a mind of its own. She messed with a few bits in the front, put way too much hair spray over them to tame them down, and left it alone. She’d considered putting it up, but Dakota usually helped her with that style and Mary wasn’t about to ask.
She was sliding her feet into her borrowed strappy Pradas when the doorbell rang.
One look out the front window showed her a black sedan, the kind that had a hired driver, sat at the curb.
She unzipped the plastic divider and stepped over the broken out tile.
There were butterflies in her belly. The giddy girlie kind that were a little out of place considering she’d seen Glen on so many occasions the newness should have worn off.
She opened the door and sighed. He wore a jacket, minus the tie . . . and dark slacks. Even from where she stood she could smell he’d just taken a shower. And he held flowers in his hand.
While she was looking at him, his ever-ready cocky smile slowly dropped as his eyes swept over her twice. “I’m sorry, I’m looking for Miss Kildare.” He looked beyond her at the tarp and tapped the concrete floor with the toe of his dress shoe. “I’m not sure I have the right house.”
“My plumbing problem turned into a nightmare.”
His gaze returned to hers. “You’re, uhm . . . wow!”
Glen speechless was a rarity.
She liked it.
“Are those for me?”
He lifted the bouquet. “First date flowers. It’s in the rule book.”
She took them, smelled one of the half dozen roses in the mix, and smiled. “Not everyone read that book.”
“Makes those of us who did look even better.”
She nodded toward the inside. “Let me put these in water and grab my purse.”
Glen followed her through the tarp and into her kitchen.
The four-inch heels made it easier for her to reach the shelf where she stored her vase, but as she reached for it, Glen stood beside her and helped.
God he smelled good.
“Thanks.”
He simply hummed as he handed it to her.
She tried to ignore the heat in his eyes as he stared.
“I’d say you didn’t have to.”
“But that wouldn’t be sincere.”
“You can’t go wrong with flowers. Candy is hit and miss.”
She removed the wrap and fanned the arrangement in the vase as it filled with water. When she was done she set it in the window and turned to find Glen still staring.
“Ready?”
He didn’t move. “Have you ever had dessert before dinner?”
She shook her head. “Are you trying to tell me we’re having cheesecake for dinner?”
