He wasn’t buying it.
I laughed to cover my mistake. "The recruiter is just flying through Seattle. He had a minute and hoped I’d be available on such short notice for an interview. I have to run.
"Can I borrow the Lexus? I’ll never be able to park the beast in the tiny parking spaces in the Seatac garage."
Dad handed me his keys. "For an engineer, you sure don’t have good spatial ability."
* * *
Ryne flagged me from a table in front of Starbucks as I walked into the main concourse. He stood as I approached.
He looked good.
"Thanks for coming."
"No problem."
A dead laptop sat in front of him.
"Is that the problem child?" I asked.
"Afraid so."
He held out a chair. I sat. He sat. We all sat, including a lady at the next table who flashed me a knowing smile. That obvious?
I looked the machine over. "You know, I’m really not a computer technician."
"You did a great job at the seminar." Big heart melting grin.
"Fixing a software problem is nothing." I examined the computer. Like he’d said, the screen was dead.
"Looks like you’ve probably got a loose display driver cable. Could be the backlight, but that hardly ever fails. I’m going to have to pop this baby open." I looked at him for affirmation.
"Open away."
I popped off the display hinge cover and took a peek inside. That bandage on my finger slowed me down, making me work clumsily in the small space. Me and my hairbrained ideas.
"Look. Here." I showed him. "See this little two-pin jobby? It’s come loose, just like I predicted."
"That’s a relief," he said, grinning. "I thought I had a screw loose."
I shot a smile back at him. "Now we just reseat it and voilà!"
The screen sparked back to life.
I turned it so he could see. "Your display’s up and running."
Ryne grinned at me. "You are a technical genius. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more attractive display."
I blushed because he wasn’t looking at the laptop, but me bursting out of Julie’s tiny top.
I turned back to the machine. "I’ll just tighten up these hinges for you while I’m in here. If your hardware and software are well mated, they both perform better."
He grinned at me, looking like I was making some kind of innuendo. Which for once I wasn’t.
I grabbed my Torx and tightened everything up, wound them up about as much as I was.
I popped the hinge covers back on and handed him his machine. "Don’t get used to this kind of service. That’s about the extent of my computer fixing skills."
He shut down the laptop and took a sip of his coffee. "I hate drinking alone. Can I buy you a coffee?"
"A mocha would be nice."
"Scone, too?"
"What are you, a mind reader?"
He laughed. "Just figured I gotten you up and out before breakfast."
He placed my order and came back to the table. I was glad for the chance to linger.
"So where are you off to?"
"New York. Giving a two-day seminar. Sunday afternoon through Monday. I’ll be back Tuesday."
"Whirlwind trip."
He sighed. "I have a lot of them. I’m on the road more often than not."
"I know," I blurted. "I saw your schedule on your website."
He cocked a brow.
"I had to check your credentials before I went to your seminar."
His fabulous full lips looked like they wanted to break out into a grin and his eyes smiled.
"I hope you have an alarm system in your home, or a very good house-sitter," I said, trolling to see if he lived alone. The website didn’t mention that detail.
"Sure do."
"Good, because you know a burglar could find your schedule as easily as I did and if he had your address . . . well, stuff gone."
"Good observation."
I shrugged. "Woman living alone. I know how to be careful." May as well lay that out there. Alone. Me. Single. Just in case that’s what caused him to back off before.
He smiled. Time for me to get a good read on this guy using his own NLP tricks back at him. Was he interested or was he merely a flirt and this a business call? Because, you know, I’d used that old "I need help with . . . fill in the blank" trick a few times myself. A highly effective reel-them-in maneuver if there’s any mutual interest.
First order of business, see if he was regular or reversed so I’d have an accurate NLP baseline. I asked him, rather conversationally, a question designed to make him access his memory. "So what’s your favorite thing about New York?" I held my cup with my bandaged finger sort of extended so that I could get a good look at my cheat sheet.
"The people. That’s my favorite part of anywhere. I love people. Love watching them, studying them. I’m a people watcher." Eyes deadlocked straight ahead.
Loved people. Made sense, although not what I expected. I sneaked a peek at Mr. Smiley on my finger. Straight ahead meant . . . nothing! Second attempt. "So do you ever get a chance to take in some entertainment? See a play?"
He shook his head. "Hardly ever." Eyes front and center.
I fought a frown. "But you probably have seen a play there once or twice?"
He shrugged and grinned. "Once or twice."
"What have you seen?"
"Les Miserable. Wicked. Loved that one. Probably my all-time favorite."
What was he, a robot? His eyes never moved from their intense straight-ahead observation of me.
"You? Your favorite?"
"Um . . ." Automatically, my eyes went up and to the—
He’d tricked me. I focused back on him. "No favorite, really. Have you done much sightseeing in New York? Say toured the Statue of Liberty?"
"Nope. Never had the time."
"The Empire State Building?"
"Uh-huh."
I grilled him mercilessly, trying to avoid looking like I was playing twenty questions. I even asked him about London. His eyes never budged, but I sensed he was fighting to hide his amusement as a smile kept threatening to pop up. I cast quick glances at Mr. Smiley on my finger for some kind of answer, but he didn’t help a bit. Finally, I gave up on the memory questions and shot for one where Ryne had to imagine something. "So what do you think the inside of Buckingham Palace really looks like?"
He shrugged, eyes straight ahead. "No idea. Is your bandaged finger bothering you? You seem to be holding it gingerly. Is the heat getting to it? I can get you a cup sleeve."
Dang, too obvious.
"No, thanks. Just a bad paper cut." Which way were my eyes going?
Ryne was smiling, clearly amused.
He probably knew I was lying!
I clenched my hand around my cup, trying not to crush it, and grinned back at him. "I’m fine. Really."
"Good. So tell me what’s been going on with you." When he spoke, he was all interest, as if I were the only person in the airport. "How’d the interview go?"
"Perfectly," I said. "Exactly the way I’d hoped."
"They’ve made you an offer, then?"
"No, not exactly." This conversation was heading in the wrong direction.
He frowned. "Look, Leesa, I hope I didn’t give you bad advice. I was kind of sleepy and not really thinking clearly—"
"No, absolutely not! They’re just slow deciding," I lied.
We sat a second in uncomfortable silence as I panicked. Given me bad advice about what? Patience?
Finally, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Have you gone to any of more JCG meetings? I’m interested in this concept of a group of unemployed strangers helping each other through socializing."
My heart fell. Professional interest only?
"I’ve been to half a dozen meetings already." I helpfully told him all about JCG and the personalities involved. "I’m trying hard to help others to get what they want."
H
e laughed outright. "So you believe in my bunk now, do you?"
I tried to keep my eyes fixed forward, but decided it was best not to push a big lie. "I’m giving it a shot. What the heck, right?"
He kept grinning. "Sure."
"Just yesterday, JCG joined together to help Barn get something he wanted—a date. You might say we saw potential in him," I teased.
I gave a brief description of Barn. And I mentioned that Cara and I had been friends for a long time, but had our ups and downs. I described our efforts to make Barn over and set him up with Cara.
"When you called this morning I thought it would be Cara checking in with the post date run-down."
"You two always give each other all the details of your dates? Compare notes?" Lips threatening an amused smile again. Heavy accusations left unsaid.
"No, not usually," I asserted too quickly and shook my head. "Absolutely not. That’s private information. Not fair to the guy to share it. Wouldn’t want a pair of buddies swapping stories about me, so wouldn’t do it to someone else. But, you know, this is a special case. More clinical, really. I’m just concerned about Barn. He’s fragile and . . ."
Evasive action. Time to switch topics.
"The JCG gang is going to tour the Cellars winery this coming Wednesday morning. Ten thirty. Sharp. We’re trying to be one of the first tours of the day. I’m really looking forward to it. You know, free wine. You can’t beat that." And they served it in small portions so you couldn’t get drunk. On the recovery side of a hangover, that sounded pretty good.
Ryne grinned, clearly amused by something. But what? The guys I knew would be right there for free wine. No humor in that, just economical good sense. A right-brained, creative type guy was a new animal for me. Let’s face it. He presented nothing but a big mystery. But mystery could be good.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but an announcement of a flight cut him short.
"That’s my flight. Gotta run." He gathered up his stuff. "Thanks again, Leesa. You saved me."
I nodded. "Sure. Be happy to fix your hardware. Anytime. Any place." And I meant it. "Any time." I gave my voice a sultry lilt. I couldn’t emphasize that part enough.
We both broke out laughing.
"Have a safe flight," I said as he headed toward security.
* * *
On the way home from the airport, I stopped by Target for a little shopping spree. Only this was a "date with Willie" shopping adventure. Much as I hated to think about it, especially after spending time with Ryne, I had to plan ahead.
I’d already scoped Julie’s wardrobe and decided at last that everything there was just too sexy. Vixen, I did not want to be. So Target it was for a stylish, modest, cheap sundress and perhaps a pair of flat sandals that actually fit. Slipping, sliding, and tottering were growing old in a hurry.
As I walked to the checkout line, I realized I’d lost Mr. Smiley. Poor Mr. Smiley. Although there are worse things than being lost in Target. I looked up from my finger and came eye to eye with a rack of fall skirts in shades of a hideous brownish, reddish purple. Ohmygosh, Puce was the color for fall!
I paid with my VISA and drove away happy, but disturbed about the puce thing.
At home, Cara called me.
"Okay, so he’s a bit doughy," she said when I answered.
I guess that shirt Candy had picked out didn’t cover it all. Darn.
"But he’s nice," she continued. "Not slimy. I liked him. He’s got potential."
Wow! How perceptive of Cara, I thought. She hadn’t even read Ryne’s book.
"He’s moldable," she continued. "And very agreeable. Takes direction. I like that in a man. No desire on his part to lead. No monopolizing conversations. Frankly, I’d like to be the dominator in a relationship for once."
Like she wasn’t usually. Like that’s not why any normal guy she dated eventually broke up with her.
"So you’ll go out with him again?" I said.
"We’re going out again tonight."
Whoa! That was fast. Must have been that" slippery downslope of thirty" idea kicking in again. Cara was on the light-speed dating program. "Good. Good." I paused. Finally, curiosity got the better of me. "Okay, but I don’t want anyone getting hurt here. You have to consider, could you actually sleep with him?"
"Already did."
"What! With Barn. On the first date!"
What had I done? Poor Cara. She’d gone way beyond the call of duty in making things up to me. Maybe I should have made it clear that just being seen at dinner with him would have been enough.
"Don’t sound so shocked," Cara said. "I thought you set us up so that we could be happy. And I am."
So much for her concern about pleasing me.
"You weren’t trying to set me up with a loser were you?" Heavy on the suspicion.
"Of course not!" I turned on the indignation. "I only want the best for you two. And Barn has lots of potential, like you said."
"Good." Humor restored, she laughed gleefully. "Then let me tell you how good a sensitive guy with low self-esteem can be. Does ‘eager to please’ mean anything to you?" When I didn’t respond, she giggled and continued. Cara went on with a graphic description of things that I didn’t want a mental picture of.
I interrupted her. "Too much information!"
"What! Since when don’t we share the blow by blow?"
Bad use of terms there.
"Well," I said, "This just sounds too special to share."
Pause. "You may be right. But just listen to . . ."
I rolled my eyes and held the phone away from my ear, tuning out. I’d tried. I’d really tried.
* * *
I looked great in my modest little pink sundress that I got on clearance. So nice to be in pink again! I did a happy twirl in front of the mirror. Pink blush, pink lipstick, perfume from a bottle with a pink heart-shaped lid that I found on Julie’s dressing table. And shoes that fit! Life was good. Well, except for having to go out with Willie. But maybe he had some potential that I’d missed all these years. At dinner I’d have to be sure to look.
He picked me up promptly, actually early. A little overeager, that guy. He gave me a nice mixed bouquet of summer flowers. Real flowers. It was sweet.
Willie took me to a little Italian restaurant in Bellevue. Adestra was located on the second floor of a modern shopping complex. One of those square complexes with shops lining the edges and an open multifloor atrium with a skylight above. Down below, on the first floor a caterer was setting up a wedding cake and a band was adjusting their sound system.
"Look, Willie." I pointed it out to him. "They’re setting up for a wedding reception. Isn’t that sweet?"
Willie peered over the edge and gave me a meaningful smile. Too meaningful. Then he winked. "Very nice."
Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?
We got the special treatment at Adestra. A prime table where absolutely everyone could see us together. The thought of the very public claim to me that Willie was making by requesting this table gave me a case of the willies. No pun intended. This was supposed to be a casual, get-my-money date, not a "we’re an item" thing.
We were served a complimentary appetizer and a bottle of Pinot Grigio wine. The wait staff acted exceptionally solicitous toward us. The busboy returned every few minutes to brush the crumbs from our bread and roasted garlic away. All the distraction made it hard for me to bring up my main objective of the evening—my money.
I commented on the service to Willie as I tried to avoid Willie’s lecherous gazes and give the impression we were simply two old friends out for an evening.
Willie puffed up. "The owner’s a client of mine." He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. "He’s probably in the kitchen right now, but I’m sure he’ll stop by before we leave."
Great.
I ordered a plate of ravioli filled with summer squash. Willie ordered seafood soup. The conversation would have lagged, had it not been for Willie introducing me to ev
ery third person who walked by. It seemed half his clientele dined at Adestra and he was introducing me to the family. In between introductions, meaningful nods, and winks, Willie told me all about his plans for life.
"I’m seriously looking to find the right woman and settle down." Meaningful wink.
I resisted an obvious cringe.
"Children. I’d like three or four. How about you?"
None with this man. Little red-haired, freckled babies with Willie’s features, are you kidding? That’s a nightmare.
"Never really thought about it much," I said.
"Sure you have! All women do." He wasn’t giving up.
"Two. Max."
You know, I was trying really hard to give Willie what he wanted and see some potential in him. But I had my limits. One date. One evening. Not, and I repeat, not a lifetime.
Somehow, this date wasn’t fulfilling either purpose I’d set out with. Contrary to being cured of his crush on me, his plans for our future grew bigger by the minute. At one point, I must have looked wild-eyed because a woman at the next table gave me a sympathetic look.
I tried to change the subject back to insurance, namely mine. "So what about my insurance claim? Let’s talk about that."
"Later. You know, I’m going to be taking over the agency once Dad retires."
I tuned out. Insurance can be a very boring topic, especially as expressed by someone with Willie’s lack of erudition skills.
In general the whole meal passed with the conversation going something like this. Willie. Blah, blah, blah. Meet Leesa. Blah, blah, blah.
Leesa. Automatic dippy bird head movements meant to simulate meaningful attention. Real thoughts centered on Ryne and the interest he’d shown in me. Was he in New York yet, do you think?
"Wow, Leesa. I don’t know how to say this. The expression on your face. The total attention you’ve shown me. It’s so totally flattering." Willie leered, exuberant.
I wiped that expression right off. That’s what I got for daydreaming and trying to entertain myself.
"We’re getting along so well. Why haven’t we done this before?" He tried to cover my hand with his.
I withdrew it to underneath the table and thought, because I didn’t want to? Because I’d really rather be anyplace else. Time for a course change, immediately!
Pink Slipper Page 13
