by C. E. Murphy
Lara laughed. “I haven’t seized anything. I just knew you would never stop harassing me if I said no, especially after he actually showed up at Lord Matthew’s.”
“You could have not told me.”
“Except you would have eventually asked if I’d ever heard from that weatherman, and I would’ve had to tell the truth.”
Impishness crossed Kelly’s face. “That’s true. You know, your weird truth-telling thing is handier for me than you.”
“I do know. Did you have to pee, or were you just hauling me off to talk about the men?”
“Oh, I just wanted to talk about them,” Kelly said blithely. “See, Lara, he liked you. He went to the trouble of finding you! Has he said anything that makes you go”—she clawed her hands and bared her teeth, physical action replacing words—“yet? So he’s from Wales? I never met a Welsh guy before. What’s he doing here? W—”
“Kelly!” Lara held her hands up. “I don’t know. We’ve only been here five minutes. And if you don’t have to go to the bathroom, I bet you’d find out a lot more answers by talking to him instead of me.”
“Oh no. You talk to him. I’ll keep Dickon distracted. And if he turns out to be a pathological liar you can knock your water glass on me so we can make an escape.”
“If David does, or if Dickon does?”
“Ooh, she’s graduated to calling him David,” Kelly announced to their reflections. “That’s a good sign. And either of them.” She ran her hands over her hips again, then nodded. “Okay. We’re ready to go now.”
“We are?”
“I am,” Kelly amended with a sniff.
“I don’t understand why you’re nervous, when you’re the one who all but shanghaied me into going on this date.” Lara nudged Kelly out of the restroom to the sound of mumbled excuses.
David stood again as they returned to the table, Dickon a beat behind him. “Someday,” Kirwen said to his cameraman. “Someday I’ll have you well enough trained that you won’t need reminding to stand when women enter the room.”
“At which time a woman will happily take him off your hands.” Kelly moved Lara’s coat from the back of her chair and took the seat herself, then smiled merrily at Lara. “You can sit across from David.”
Dickon’s eyebrows rose as Lara came around the table to sit by him. “I bet she’s deadly at weddings, huh? Rearranges seating arrangements and shi—stuff?”
“As a matter of fact, she does. We know two couples who met at weddings because Kelly is a busybody.”
“I am not!”
Lara smiled. “Yes, you are, but you mean well.” She nodded thanks as a waitress offered menus and poured water, and for a few moments let herself become engrossed in nominally studying the choices, and actually peeking over its edge at David Kirwen.
He had a knack, like Kelly did, for putting people at ease. A more useful talent than her own, certainly; knowing the truth had never talked someone into joining her for dinner. The idea made her hide a smile behind her menu. Kelly would no doubt find a way to use the truth to get a dinner date.
Lara shook her head. It was easy to compare herself unfavorably to her boisterous friend, to envy Kelly’s quick way with words and willingness to risk embarrassment in pursuit of the things that interested her.
Things like David Kirwen. Well, no: Kelly had gone after David purely for Lara’s benefit, which she was certain of for two reasons. One, she’d have heard the lie if Kelly had been interested in Kirwen for herself, and two, the slender weatherman genuinely wasn’t Kelly’s type. His broad-built cameraman, though …
Lara hid another smile in her menu. Kelly would call it instant karmic feedback, trying to set Lara up for a date and finding a hunk of her own by doing so.
“You must have gotten a much more entertaining menu than I did.” David Kirwen tipped Lara’s menu toward him so he could peer down it. “It looks the same …”
Lara clapped the menu shut, then, flustered, opened it again. “Oh. No. No, I was just thinking. I hadn’t even looked at it.”
Kirwen flourished his fingers, coming up with a shining coin. “Penny for your thoughts, then?”
“Oh!” Lara reached out, startled, to catch the penny from his fingertips. “How did you do that!”
“You’d have me give away all my secrets on the first date?” Kirwen tsked. “You’ve taken the penny, so you owe me a thought now, don’t you?”
“Ooh,” Kelly said loudly enough to be heard, though her innocent expression suggested she didn’t intend to be, “that implies there’ll be a second date. That’s promising.”
Lara aimed a kick at her under the table and instead crashed her booted toes into the pedestal with a thonk. Kelly burst out laughing as Lara sank into her seat, face buried in her hands. “Way to be subtuhl, Lar. She was thinking a second date had better not be a double,” Kelly told David. “Better not ask her while Dickon’s around. He’ll horn in on it.”
“Only if my barbecue is rained out!”
Lara risked peeking through her fingers in time to see Kelly give Dickon a frankly lascivious once-over and lean in to purr, “Honey, I’ll make sure your barbecue never goes out.”
Dickon, brightly, said, “Check, please!” and beneath their laughter Lara murmured, “I was thinking it would be easier to be like you and Kelly. She makes friends in a heartbeat, and you seem to expect that, too. I’m not that outgoing.” She held up the penny, smile turning wistful. “Was that worth a penny?”
“It was.” David reached out to fold the coin into her palm, briefly cupping his hand over hers. “And if we were all as forthright as Kelly, then we would miss the delight of coaxing the shy out of their shells. Some things, Miss Jansen, are worth the wait.”
“Good,” Kelly broke in cheerfully. “Wait until Saturday.”
David released Lara’s hand, sending a rush of disappointment through her. She quashed it, feeling absurd, and frowned at Kelly. “We’re helping Rachel move on Saturday.”
“Exactly! David can spend the whole day coaxing you, and we’ll have a couple of big strong handsome men around to help.”
David turned to his cameraman solemnly. “I believe we’ve been hornswoggled, Dickon.”
“I believe we have,” Dickon said just as solemnly, then squinted at Lara. “Hornswoggled means tricked, right?”
“Oh no.” Kelly looked dismayed. “You haven’t already done your walking dictionary trick, have you? I swear, Lara, I leave you alone for five minutes … !”
Lara lifted her chin and sniffed, trying to dismiss Kelly playfully, and shook her head at Dickon. “It’s like rapscallion. The real meaning is darker than the way it’s used now. You have an old-fashioned vocabulary, Mr. Kirwen. Is that a Welsh thing?”
“It’s certainly the way of my people,” Kirwen replied lightly. “What time will you need us to help move your friend?”
“Us?” Dickon’s voice rose. “Who said anything about us?”
“You wouldn’t leave a fair lady in distress, would you, Dickon?” David gestured to Kelly, who fluttered her eyelashes and put on an unconvincing expression of helplessness. Dickon laughed and raised his hands in defeat. Lara smiled at the banter, listening as plans were made, and watched David Kirwen quietly, thoughtfully.
“It’s the way of my people” was a very careful phrase. Lara thought even she might have overlooked it had it not highlighted something he’d said earlier, that his name was Welsh “by most accounts.” He laid no claim to that account himself.
Curiosity blossomed in Lara’s chest, stealing her breath. Handsome, witty, and not only mysterious, but cautiously mysterious. Very few people she knew could disguise the truth in such a way as to not trigger her sixth sense. Even fewer would have any reason to.
Disarmed by her own interest, Lara sat forward to rejoin the conversation and enjoy the prospect of dinner with a man who could keep a secret from her.
Five
“I haven’t stayed up this late in months. I won’t be able
to see the pins tomorrow.” Lara frowned at her feet, having difficulty focusing on where to place them, much less the more dubious prospect of fine needlework on the morrow. The steps leading down from the restaurant seemed distinctly more treacherous than they had upon arrival. “How much wine did you give me?”
“I believe you asked for that fourth glass,” David Kirwen said in amused self-defense. “Careful, now.” He offered his elbow and Lara clung to it gratefully as he escorted her down the stairs. Kelly and Dickon waited at the bottom, neither of them as impeded as Lara. She scowled lightly at Kelly, who made a dismissive sound.
“I drank as much as you did. I just have a lot more body weight to slosh it around in. You okay?”
“I think so.” Lara released Kirwen’s elbow and smiled up at him. “It was a lovely dinner. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. I hope we can do it again sometime.”
“Saturday.” Kelly put on a winsome smile so transparent that Lara laughed. “Pizza after moving day. You don’t mind, do you?”
“How could I resist such a heartfelt plea? We’ll be there.” Kirwen arched his eyebrows at Dickon. “Won’t we?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Despite his grumble, the cameraman didn’t sound at all put out, and shook first Kelly’s and then Lara’s hands. “It was nice to meet both of you. We’ll see you Saturday.”
A chorus of farewells followed, and Kelly took up David’s position of balancing Lara as they made their way down the sidewalk toward Kelly’s car. The instant they were out of earshot, Kelly began singing, “Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes!”
“Hnf. The laws of physics don’t allow for stars in the eyes, Kelly.” She glanced over her shoulder as they climbed into the Nissan. “He is awfully handsome, though, isn’t he?”
“If you like skinny blond boys with exotic accents, sure.” Kelly grinned as they pulled into traffic. “You liked him. After all that fuss over his name this afternoon, you really liked him, didn’t you?”
“He’s interesting. No, I mean it!”
“Of course you mean it. You don’t say things you don’t mean. Define interesting, by Lara Ann Jansen’s standards.”
“He doesn’t tell lies, but he’s very careful about what he says. He never said he was from Wales, did you notice?” Lara folded her arms around herself and scooted down in the seat like a much younger girl. “I hate it when people lie to me, Kel. Not about the small things, you can’t help that. But bigger things, it just feels so wrong. But he’s not lying, he’s just …”
“Interesting,” Kelly finished triumphantly. “Who knew it would be the man she couldn’t see right through who would catch her eye?” She pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Of course, if I put it that way it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? Although, really, Lara, I think if you were trying to get him to slip up, you probably should have been pouring the wine into him, not into yourself.”
“But I wasn’t! I was just having a good time.” Lara caught Kelly’s fingers, squeezing, then released her so she could put her hand back on the wheel. “Thanks, Kel. I never would have gone if it weren’t for you. I had fun. Thank you. And what about you? You and Dickon seemed to hit it off.”
“It’ll be a double wedding,” Kelly said cheerfully.
Lara sang, “Slow down, you move too fast!” then laughed at Kelly’s expression. “What? You started it with the stars in your eyes song, and how often do I get to sing something true?” When she could, or when she heard songs performed with genuine integrity, they always seemed strikingly powerful to her, but it was a rare occasion that either happened. Lara shook her head, smiling out the window. “I don’t want to think about weddings, Kel. I’m just looking forward to Saturday.”
“You remember how you were looking forward to this?” Kelly crouched beside another box as Lara put her hands into the small of her back and pushed forward, trying to pop her spine. A series of small clicks rattled her and she gave a breathless oomph, bending forward to touch her toes and finish the stretch.
“I wasn’t talking about the heavy-lifting part, Kelly. But they say many hands make light work.” Lara craned her neck, watching Rachel and her girlfriend stagger out the door carrying precariously balanced hatboxes. The four women would have been enough, but Dickon and David’s presence sped things along: it only took the two of them to move things that all four women would have had to cooperate on.
“And it must be true right now, or you’d be saying too many cooks spoil the broth. Except there aren’t any cooks or any broth here. God, you’re literal.”
Lara’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t say a word, Kel. That deconstruction was entirely on you.”
“Oh. Well, fine. Going to help me with this?” They took the box up together—filled with clothes, it was only awkwardly large, not heavy—and Kelly led the way toward the door. Dickon’s shadow warned them to stop before a crash ensued, and he leaped aside, flattening himself against the door as best he could when he saw them.
“Want me to get that?”
“Hm.” Kelly peered past the box toward the living room. “So far you’ve gotten the television, the computer, fifteen boxes of graphic novels, all the canned goods in the house, and an oak bed frame. I think we can manage one box of clothes. Go on.” She jerked her chin, indicating he could go past them. He did a credible scurry for a man of his bulk, getting out of the way. They careened through the door and Kelly yelled a curse as she ran into David, who flattened himself more successfully and shot an apologetic look over the box. Lara grunted and they pushed past him, taking the stairs faster than wisdom dictated.
At the bottom, Kelly gave Lara a breathless grin. “Well, at least you can now say you’ve been in a tight space with him.”
Lara pulled a face. “Not that I ever would. Kelly, I don’t work like you do. It’s all right, really.”
Kelly laughed, guiding them out to the moving truck. “No, you wouldn’t, but you could! I know you don’t, Lar.” They shoved the box into the truck, Kelly scrambling up after it to maneuver it into a tight spot. “I’m just afraid you’re not having any fun, all hunched up there at the shop with your needle and thread. I want you to live a little.”
“Your idea of living a little is throwing yourself off a bridge,” Lara pointed out, relishing the opportunity to make a melodramatic and also absolutely honest statement.
“That was only the once! And I had bungee cords!”
“I know, but my point stands. He’s nice, Kelly. He’s interesting. You got us set up on a date. Let me take it at my own pace from here, okay?”
Kelly jumped out of the truck, arms akimbo and expression triumphant. “As long as you’re actually going to, no problem.”
“You,” Lara said as severely as she could, “should quit the bra shop and go into matchmaking. Has anybody ever told you you’re a busybody?”
“You do, regularly. And if I quit working there I’ll lose my discount and will have to start going braless because buying them will bankrupt me. Nobody, least of all me, wants the girls bouncing around unslung. I’d say ‘Ow, know what I mean?’ except you don’t.”
“‘Some of us have fast metabolisms,’” Lara reminded her.
“I don’t think that actually has anything to do with the difference between a B cup and a Q cup.”
“You do not wear a Q cup.”
“Well, you don’t even have Q-tips!”
Lara threw her head back and laughed. “That’s not true. All right, fine, don’t quit. But if you’re not taking up matchmaking full-time maybe you should stop pursuing it at all!”
“Lara, the only other excitement in my life is measuring women for bras.”
“And jumping off bridges. And robo-rally racing or whatever that was you did a few weekends ago. And—”
Kelly ignored her, clearly not to be undone by minor details like truth. “I like a well-fitted bra as much as the next girl, but measuring acres of female flesh doesn’t hold a candle to interfering in my friends’ love li
ves. It’d be one thing if you could be trusted to it yourselves.”
“Trusted to what?” Dickon and David came out of the stairwell, staggering under the weight of a king-sized mattress. Lara and Kelly scattered away from the truck, guilt staining Lara’s cheeks pink. They’d only stood outside bantering for a moment or two, but others had been working while they played.
She wrinkled her nose. Kelly was right: she was too serious. Easier to admit than to change, though. Kelly’s adventuresome streak had yet to rub off on her, and they’d been friends since college. “None of us can be trusted to run our own love lives, according to Kelly. But she won’t give up her day job to become a matchmaker.”
“The day job? Didn’t you say you sell bras?” Dickon shoved the mattress the last few inches into the truck, then turned, panting, to Kelly. Lara clapped a hand over her mouth, cutting off a laugh. David appeared at her side to cock a curious eyebrow, and she let a smile slip through.
“Oh, Kelly’s so …” She made an hourglass figure with her hands. “People would say she’s the kind of woman men pant over. I thought it was funny to see someone actually doing that. I know he’s just breathless from working, but—”
“People would say. But not you?”
“Well, I’ve never seen it really happen.” Lara shifted her shoulders uncomfortably, and Kirwen’s expression grew curious.
“And you only report what you see?”
Lara folded her arms under her breasts, keeping her eyes on Kelly and Dickon, the latter of whom was enthusiastic in his opinion that Kelly shouldn’t give up her day job. “Kelly told you the other day. I have a knack for hearing the truth, so I don’t like to stretch its boundaries. People don’t usually literally drool or pant over one another. They might admire or gawk or be distracted, but actual drooling?” She shook her head.
“That’s quite extraordinary.” Kirwen sounded distant. Lara turned a concerned frown up at him, and discovered his gaze was as inaccessible as his voice. He seemed to be looking into her, through her, and beyond her, seeing something so far off as to be forever lost to him. “No wonder you have such a fascination with the precise meaning of words. Has it always been thus for you?”
