VANCOUVER: The Gem of Canada Is Aglow with Four Romances

by Gail Sattler

  Ken wondered why Molly was so talkative. While she did tend to talk a lot whenever they went out together, she’d never chattered so incessantly before. In a way it was both comforting and frightening that he was able to follow her conversation, even though he couldn’t remember for the life of him where the discussion had started. “Yes, I take my camera. When I finish a roll of film, I mail it home so it’s all waiting for me when I get back. We keep the load as light as possible.”

  Molly poured herself another cup of coffee from the decanter on their table. “I love to take pictures. I once got an honorable mention in a photo contest.” She grinned and took another sip, holding the cup to her lips as she waited for him to respond.

  Ken frowned. Maybe she’d had too much coffee and that was what was making her so hyper. He wished he could find out what time it was. Since they’d arrived he’d lost track of how much coffee she’d consumed, but it had been a lot, and they hadn’t been there that long. In addition to what she’d had at church, he didn’t think it was a good idea for her to drink any more if it was going to affect her like this.

  He tried to be discreet, but he couldn’t read the time on Molly’s watch and he didn’t want to ask. On the way home from work on Monday, he was going to buy himself a wristwatch with an expansion bracelet so he could get it on and off without needing assistance with the clasp like a three year old. He glanced around the restaurant, but there wasn’t a clock on any of the walls. By the time he looked at Molly again, she was staring at him, probably waiting for him to respond to her last statement, which he had to struggle to remember.

  “I’d like to see that picture. Did you save it?”

  Her head bobbed up and down so rapidly her hair bounced. Ken decided he was definitely going to cut her off the coffee.

  “Yes!” Molly exclaimed. “It’s the one hanging above my futon. That sunset picture. I took it at Stanley Park.”

  “Ah. Stanley Park. It’s mentioned in much of the tourist literature.”

  Her hand shot across the table so fast it startled him. She clasped her fingers around his wrist and broke out into another wide smile. “You mean you haven’t been to Stanley Park yet?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Would you like to go? There’s lots of great stuff to see and do there. There’s totem poles and lots of fields, trails, the zoo, the aquarium … It’s even got a couple of beaches. I never swim in the ocean—it’s too cold for me, but lots of people do.”

  It was perfect. Not only could he get her away from the restaurant’s bottomless coffee pot, but it was a way to spend the rest of the day with Molly. “That sounds interesting. Let’s go.”

  Molly smiled, trying not to show her relief to have something to do besides talk. She’d talked so much she could feel an annoying rasp in her throat, and because of that, she’d drunk far too much coffee. She hadn’t meant to talk Ken’s ear off, but ever since they’d left church he’d been looking at her funny, and she didn’t know what to make of it. Every time conversation lagged, a strange half smile appeared on his face, but he didn’t say anything—he just stared at her. In the intimate setting of the restaurant, she couldn’t stop herself from jumping in to fill the voids in the conversation. At least if they went sightseeing in a crowd, they could just watch the attractions without needing to fill every moment of silence.

  Within the confined quarters of the car, she couldn’t stop herself from telling him about all the local tourist hot spots. By the time they parked the car, she was tired of listening to herself, and she suspected Ken was too. As expected, he hadn’t said much, but then she hadn’t exactly given him much opportunity.

  Rather than give him a choice, Molly led him to the animals rather than the aquarium complex. Molly wanted to go to the petting zoo, even though it was designed for children. The last time she’d come to the petting zoo she’d taken a friend’s child, just so she could go into the pens with the animals and not look foolish. Today she didn’t care.

  Once inside the enclosure, she headed straight for the feed dispenser and popped in a few quarters to get a handful of the animal chow. She didn’t think Ken would feed the baby sheep and llamas even if he did have two hands, but she had no such hesitation. She enjoyed petting the baby animals. She could hardly wait until she could afford a house of her own so she could get a dog. Until then, the petting zoo would have to do.

  “Uh, Molly … We’re the only adults in here without children.”

  “Don’t worry. They won’t notice. Besides, they make money from people buying food for them. Think of it as a fundraiser.”

  At his lack of response, Molly bent down to offer some food to one of the smaller goats who seemed to be left out when the larger and more aggressive animals got ahead of it. Her next favorite was the tall llama. After that, she stuck her hand into the pen for the small Vietnamese potbellied pig, a little black fellow whose imaginative name the sign showed as Porky. At first little Porky was hesitant, but once he got up enough nerve, he enjoyed the food she offered.

  “Ken, come here. Pat him. He really likes it. Have you ever touched a potbellied pig before? His hair is really strange. It’s bristly, but not unpleasant.”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever patted a pig. I think I’ll pass.”

  She scratched the little fellow behind the ear. Porky closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.

  “I’ll bet your name isn’t really Porky,” she whispered to the little pig. “I’ll bet it’s something very suave, like Black Bart or something, isn’t it?”

  “Molly? Are you talking to that pig?”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not answering.”

  Molly turned to look at Ken over her shoulder to add further to her comment, but before she could say what she intended, the large llama appeared behind Ken. No doubt hoping for some food, it lowered its head and nudged Ken in the back. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been expecting it. The llama pushed him forward, causing Ken to stumble. His right arm flew up as he attempted to regain his balance, but with the other arm in the cast, he couldn’t right himself quickly. He grabbed hold of the wooden siding for the pen and managed to stay upright, but barely.

  Molly stood as quickly as she could. Since the llama had once done that same thing to her, she would have expected it, but she suspected Ken had never been inside a petting zoo in his life. Some of the animals did tend to get aggressive, and she knew from experience that he would be head-butted again. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass him.

  “Come on, I’ve said hello to all my favorites. Let’s go somewhere else. How about the aquarium?”

  Before he had a chance to reply, Molly grabbed his hand and pulled him out.

  Chapter 11

  Clicking computer keys, clattering calculators, the whirring of the photocopier, and the electronic tones of ringing phones surrounded Ken. Ignoring everything and remaining seated, he used his foot to push his chair away from his desk and arched to stretch his back. He was on the verge of completing another project, and it felt good.

  He couldn’t type properly or write yet, but at least he could finally operate the mouse half decently. Most importantly, he could now hold a pen firmly enough to sign his name if he angled the cast properly and leaned crooked. With this newly acquired skill, his next step would be to sign the lease papers on a new car.

  Ken closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He lifted his left arm then rested the cast on top of his head to support the weight while he arched his back again and flexed his aching shoulder. It was the only way to ease the stiffness out, which was driving him nuts after keeping it immobile for so long. Fortunately, from his position at the rear of the office, no one could see him, if anyone had any mind to pay attention to what he was doing. He didn’t know how he was going to stand much more of this, but he didn’t have any choice. On top of everything else, just as his doctor had predicted, it was starting to get itchy in there.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he sneaked a peek at Molly, who was working
very hard to convert the labor costs on another project proposal. All thoughts of work fled his mind.

  Sitting in his chair, leaning back with his arm still resting on top of his head, he watched Molly. He’d seen so many different facets of her personality yesterday, and it had only served to strengthen how he felt about her.

  The woman who had grabbed him by the hand and forcefully pulled him out of the petting zoo had burst into tears over the simple but meaningful words of a children’s song. The woman who had charmed his company’s most important client had talked to a pig. He didn’t want to compare her one-sided conversation with the little animal to his own rather one-sided conversation with her at lunch. Then, for a complete turnaround, instead of a diet of nonstop chatter, during their journey through the aquarium they’d shared a very comfortable silence as they walked slowly through the complex.

  Since it had been busy, at one point he had held on to her hand so they wouldn’t become separated in the crowd. When the crowd thinned, he hadn’t let go, and Molly hadn’t pulled away. They’d spent much of their visit walking around the exotic fish and aquatic displays hand in hand, and he’d thoroughly enjoyed himself. The aquarium had been interesting, but being with Molly in the dark complex lit only by the backlight from the aquariums made it enchanting.

  The only thing that would have made a great day perfect would have been if he could have kissed her when he left.

  He was completely and totally in love with Molly. Now if only he could figure out what to do about it.

  He’d never seen an employee out of the working environment before, much less dated one. The situation called for extreme caution, because he didn’t want to place Molly in an awkward position in front of his uncle or the rest of the staff. Still, he had every intention of pursuing this as a serious relationship. He’d already kissed her and she’d responded, so he didn’t fear that whatever it was they shared wasn’t mutual, at least to some degree.

  Suddenly, Molly turned her head and looked at him, catching him staring at her. He should have felt stupid leaning back in his chair with his arm on top of his head, but he didn’t. Her beautiful emerald green eyes opened wide, her mouth gaped slightly. She stared up at his arm, then quickly reverted her gaze back to his eyes. For lack of a better idea, he smiled at her and said nothing.

  She lowered her voice so no one else in the area could hear. “Ken? Is everything all right?”

  His smile widened. “Just fine. It’s almost lunchtime. Want to beat the rush?”

  In the silence of her apartment, Molly slowly spooned a serving of beef stew out of the slow-cooker and onto her plate, then stood and stared at it.

  Something strange was happening, and she didn’t know what to do. This afternoon she had looked over at Ken to ask him a question, but Molly couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The question she was going to ask disappeared in a puff of smoke. Ken had shed his suit jacket and was lounging back in his chair doing absolutely nothing. His tie was loosened around his neck, the sling hung empty, and his arm was raised straight up with the cast lying on the top of his head. And then, when he saw her looking at him, all he did was wiggle his fingers and grin like an idiot.

  She hadn’t expected Ken to take her out for lunch again—after all, they’d had no urgent business to discuss and no important clients to visit. They’d left ahead of the rest of the staff, but once inside the car, she took advantage of the only private moment they were going to have. Ken was careful with his appearance and hated to look unkempt, even to the extent of his tie being crooked. For however long he’d been sitting in that ridiculous position with his arm on top of his head, he’d flattened his hair in the middle. In addition to looking silly with crooked hair, she couldn’t look at him with a straight face because the flat spot reminded her of how it got that way. Not only that, if he went out in public like that, he would have been embarrassed.

  Therefore, she’d attempted to fix it. That had been a mistake.

  She’d never forget the silky feel of his thick hair as she ran her fingers through it in her efforts to fluff it back up again. While she knew men used hair gel to keep it in that particular style, it was never something she’d used herself. She’d been surprised at the stiffness of it on top, and she couldn’t help but investigate the texture of it and experiment with a couple of the hardened strands.

  At some point he had closed his eyes, and while she was busy trying to figure out the texture and shaping of his hair, another sappy grin had drifted onto his face. When her fingers stilled, his eyes opened halfway. The usual steel blue had darkened to a blue-gray, and his attention fixed on her mouth. If they hadn’t heard the voices of a couple of women leaving the building, she wondered if he would have kissed her.

  Molly stared at her supper, which was now starting to cool, and she hadn’t taken a single bite. She wasn’t hungry, but she knew she should eat. Just as she reached for the cutlery drawer, the buzzer for the door sounded.

  “Hi, Molly. It’s me, Ken. Are you busy?”

  Molly stared at her untouched supper. Not that she was hungry. “No, I’m not busy. What are you doing here?”

  “I forgot my tie yesterday and was wondering if I could come up and get it.”

  Sure enough, his tie was still draped over the kitchen chair where she’d tossed it Sunday morning. “Come on up,” she said as she pushed the button to open the main entrance.

  Since she hadn’t touched her supper, she scraped the stew back into the pot, stirred it, and put the lid back on. By the time she rinsed the plate and tucked it into the dishwasher, Ken was knocking on the door.

  “Hi.” He stood grinning in the entranceway. “I hope you don’t mind. I was just in the neighbor … Wow, what’s that delicious smell? I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner.”

  Molly shrugged her shoulders. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

  He craned his neck to look into the kitchen, which fortunately was tidy. “Me neither.”

  That was a hint if she’d ever heard one. “You’re welcome to stay. There’s plenty.” She’d planned to divide it up into a number of servings and freeze it. While she tended not to be very organized, when it came to suppers, she could do that much. Besides, it saved her from having to cook some other day.

  “That would be great. I’m starving. I owe you big time.”

  “Don’t tell me you were at work all this time?”

  He shook his head. “No. I was held up with the insurance agent. I got a new car today. Want to go for a test drive?”

  “You bought a car? In one day?”

  “I knew what I wanted, and I didn’t exactly buy it. It’s leased. That way I get to claim it on my income tax.” He closed the door behind him and walked into the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

  “No, there’s nothing to do.” She pulled out a couple of plates and cutlery, poured two glasses of milk, and sat down. In the same space of time, Ken picked up his wayward tie, awkwardly folded it as best he could, and tucked it into his shirt pocket. He shucked off his suit jacket but didn’t remove the tie he was already wearing. After a short prayer, they began to eat.

  “This is delicious. You’re a good cook.”

  Molly felt herself blush. “I dumped a bunch of stuff into the crockpot this morning and turned it on. That doesn’t take a lot of effort or imagination. I didn’t even have to get up much earlier than usual.”

  “Did you get the recipe out of a cookbook, or did you just make it up?”

  “Make this up? Me? Are you kidding? It was in the book that came with the slow-cooker. I followed the instructions.” Molly couldn’t believe she was discussing cooking techniques with him. As she shared her limited knowledge of cooking skills, then listened to some cute stories of his misadventures of cooking for one, she had to smile. Perhaps she had the wrong impression, and all Ken had in mind was mere friendship. He hadn’t wanted to kiss her after all. Probably her lipstick was smudged, and he didn’t know what to say.

  She didn’t
want to be disappointed, but it was best in the long run. Whatever his final position in the company ended up being, it would still be an executive capacity; after all, he was a Quinlan. She’d never be able to relate to his friends or his lifestyle. Most likely, despite her dreams of promotion, all she would ever be was the receptionist, a job she enjoyed but wished paid better.

  “Thank you for a lovely dinner. Now how about if I take you out for a drive? You can show me some noteworthy points of interest to us tourist types, and I’ll treat you to coffee and dessert.”

  It was a deal she couldn’t refuse.

  He didn’t say anything about the car, but without a doubt, it was priced well beyond her own means, leased or not. Since they’d already been through Stanley Park, she directed him to the outlying areas.

  “You’d mentioned something about the SkyTrain and a marketplace a few weeks ago. I don’t have any plans for Saturday. Can I take you up on it this weekend?”

  She hadn’t remembered specifically saying she volunteered to play tour guide, but she couldn’t say no without looking churlish. Besides, now that she knew his intentions, she could relax in his company, knowing friendship was all he sought. “Sure. Wear comfortable shoes. We’ll be doing a lot of walking.”

  “Comfortable shoes? Is there any other kind?”

  Molly gritted her teeth. She had a closet full of shoes to match every outfit she owned, and then some. There weren’t many in the pile she’d select to walk for hours at the crowded marketplace.

  Instead of describing the points of interest out the window, Molly turned to face Ken as he drove. He obviously didn’t have a clue about women’s shoes, which was evidenced by his reaction to the spikes she’d worn to the Chamber dinner. As many suits as he appeared to own, their primary hues were all in very basic, functional, and boring colors. “Just how many pairs of shoes do you own?” she asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

  His brows knotted as he turned the corner. “Four. If you count my boots and my sneakers. How many pairs of shoes does a person need?”