“Gideon,” Charlie said, lacing her tone with a warning that promised laptop hacking later.
Daniel dared her with a lift of one eyebrow. “Tomorrow.”
“Now that’s what I like. A masterful man. A decisive man. A man who’s not afraid to fly his alpha flag no matter how politically incorrect.”
“G, don’t you have something else to do? Wash your hair? Go shopping? Take over a small country?”
“Nada, darling. I’m completely at leisure.” He reared back in his chair in exaggerated surprise. “Ooooooohhhh. I get it. I’m in the way. Now, why didn’t you say so?” He stood up, folding his napkin into a tidy rectangle. “I’ll toddle off home.”
Daniel stood up and shook Gideon’s hand. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Yes it was, wasn’t it?” Gideon tossed his bangs out of his eyes and looked up at Daniel. “Say. How’s your Star Trek trivia?”
“Rusty.”
“Excellent!” Gideon squeezed Charlie’s shoulder on his way past her. “Bring him home with you, Charles. Baby needs a new pair of Cole Haan’s.”
Daniel laughed. “You play trivia for money?”
“The highest of stakes, angel-cake. Bring your checkbook.” Gideon looked Daniel up and down. “Although, if you’re strapped for cash, you can elect the strip-trivia option.” He kissed Charlie on the cheek, waved to Daniel and his waiter BFF, and sauntered out the door.
“Is he always this lively?”
“You should see him when he’s caffeinated.” She waited for Gideon to clear the door before she folded her napkin, smoothing the creases with one of her ridiculous nail extensions. All Gideon’s flirting lessons had fled her brain in his wake.
Think. Think. She couldn’t treat Daniel the way she treated Gideon all the time. They’d both perish from the snark. How could she convince him she wasn’t a complete nutcase and get to the next step in the path to her pseudo-Stage Two?
She hadn’t missed the resigned look on Daniel’s face before Gideon showed up. He’d been ready to bail, and she didn’t blame him. Despite being straight, he’d be more likely to date Gideon at this point, if only because Gideon was more fun. On the other hand, Charlie didn’t feel as awkward with a wingman, even one as predictably unpredictable as Gideon. Maybe that was the answer to getting through this month without a meltdown visible from space.
Chasing him away might have been a mistake.
She attempted a smile. “Thank you for dinner. I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”
“Believe me when I say it’s been my pleasure, freak-out or no.”
He stood and held out his hand. She stared at it stupidly until he chuckled and reached down to take hers from where it rested on the edge of the table. She let him draw her to her feet and tried to remember to breathe.
Daniel Shawn, touching her for the first time in forever. Why did it feel so familiar? He’d never really touched her when they were kids, other than the occasional punch on the arm when his mother wasn’t around to scold him about hitting girls. Had she dreamed about this? How pathetic, if it were true. Because Shanna was right. He was out of her league and always had been.
She let her hand slide out of his and turned away, threading through the tables to the front of the restaurant. He placed one hand on the small of her back, his palm a welcome heat through the thin fabric of her ridiculous alleged shirts.
“Hold on, hon.” The waiter stopped them at the threshold. “Don’t forget your roses.”
He held out the vase, its explosion of red nearly obscuring his face, the heavy scent fighting with the aroma of browning butter wafting out of the kitchen. She reached for it, but Daniel stepped forward and intercepted the hand-off.
“I’ll take that.”
“Oh. You don’t have to…” She swallowed hard against the mental image of herself staggering around the streets of Northwest Portland with her entire torso concealed by roses. She’d look like the third-string exotic dancer at a florist’s convention.
On the other hand, the bouquet would cover her cleavage. She wasn’t sure which one was likely to draw more unwanted attention.
“They were my idea. Only fair I pack them out for you. Besides, Dr. Forrester, the polite thing for me to do now is to take you home.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She reached for the flowers. “I only live a few blocks away.”
He shifted them out of her reach, his lips thinned in a parody of his easy after-dinner smile. “I know. I’ve been there, remember?”
Oh no. Despite the difference between the shape of his adult face and his face as a child, his expression was exactly the same as the one he’d worn after he’d waited, so proud and excited, to present his science fair medal to his father, only to have his father toss him a careless That’s nice, kid before disappearing into his den along with a bottle-shaped brown bag.
As if Toshiko stood next to her, lecturing her about the detrimental effects of rejecting a male mating offering, she realized she’d made a colossal error.
He’d been proud of those flowers. He’d taken a risk and she’d robbed him of the reward of satisfaction. She’d hurt him. She had to fix it, and not only because her AGS chances depended on keeping this relationship alive for a month.
Maybe it was time to cut Dickhead Daniel a break.
“I’m sorry.”
He turned back to her, his eyebrows lifting and his lips relaxing. “For what?”
“For spoiling your…you know. The flowers. I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful, I was just…” She gestured helplessly at the restaurant windows.
“It wasn’t what you were expecting.”
“No.” She pushed her hair off her forehead. “Definitely out of scope.”
“I should have remembered. You hate surprises even more than I do. Don’t worry.” He angled his head in the direction of her apartment. “I’ll do better next time.”
Next time. In spite of her epic date fail, he still thought in terms of next time. She wasn’t sure if that counted as a win or if it would end up as the most wretched loss of all.
…
As Daniel hauled his ill-advised mega-bouquet down the street, people driving by slowed down, smiled, and pointed at him. A couple honked and waved. He grinned back, raising the bouquet in salute, glad someone was getting some pleasure out of the damn things.
After the second drive-by, he caught Charlie giving him a sideways look.
“Doesn’t it bother you,” she asked, rising on her toes for a few steps to peer over his shoulder at yet another drive-by petal-peeper, “attracting all this attention from strangers?”
He glanced down at her, eyebrows raised. “Why should it? I have no idea who they are and it’s not like I’ll ever see them again. As long as I’m not provoking road rage or causing a car crash, I’m good.”
“If it were me, I’d be seeking the nearest shrubbery,” she muttered, striding ahead of him.
He caught up with her, and they crossed the street together. “So. You’re Dr. Forrester now. What are you planning to do with all those fancy letters trailing after your name?”
She veered a half step away. “I’m…considering. I don’t want to jump into anything until I’m sure it’s the perfect fit.”
“You still want to work for AGS?”
She stopped, eyes wide, and her hand crept toward her throat. “How…?”
He turned and walked backward, beckoning her to follow. “You made me watch the tape of that documentary a dozen times. More than we watched your favorite Star Trek episodes. My memory may be leakier than a sieve, but you drilled that one into me good.”
“Right.” She shook her head, and silver winked at her earlobes, half hidden by her curls. “Sorry about that.”
He took her hand and drew her along the sidewalk, still walking backward. “Nah. It was good. The way y
ou decided you wanted to change the world made me think it was possible, even for a kid like me. It made a difference.”
“Oh. I…” She laughed and turned around, too, so they were both going backward. “Sometimes I get so lost in the trees, I forget there are other people hiking the same forest.”
He glanced over his shoulder. The intersection with Raleigh was only a few steps away. “You know, if we don’t both want to end up flat on our butts, maybe we should stop looking where we’ve been and face where we’re going.”
She cast a startled glance at him, and her pace faltered. He nearly ditched the roses, vase and all, to steady her, but she hadn’t tripped, just slowed.
“You’re right.” She turned around and took a deep breath. The breeze lifted the curls off her forehead and sent her shirt on an eddy around her hips.
The sight caused a hitch in his chest, but he ordered himself to stand down. “Ahead, warp factor one?”
She tilted her head and whoa. Smile set on stun. “Steady as she goes.”
They strolled down 24th, past Raleigh and Quimby, the light from the streetlamps filtering through the branches of the trees overhanging the sidewalk. He didn’t crowd her exactly, but he walked close enough that her shirt drifted across his forearm like a caress. The first time the backs of his fingers grazed hers, she jolted and jerked her hand away, but the second time, she didn’t flinch.
“This is my favorite time of day.” She lifted her chin to gaze at the pearlescent sky beyond the trees. “Especially at this time of year. You know the sun is still shining in Beaverton and Hillsboro, but on this side of the West Hills, it’s already set. A false twilight. Bonus time. It’s nature’s Easter egg.”
“Like Empire of Light.”
She glanced up at him, eyebrows quirked in inquiry. “Is that a science fiction book? A movie?”
He laughed. “No, Dr. Forrester. It’s a Magritte painting. My favorite. Hangs in the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan.”
She ducked her head, but the smile that softened her mouth was wistful. “While I was at Columbia, I never made it to any museums or other touristy-type destinations. My amusements consisted of extra classwork so I could finish my degree in half the time.”
“Overachieving as a way of life. You’ve always had it covered.”
“What can I say? My only close friend was Toshiko and, compared to her, I was a do-nothing slacker.” She scuffed one of her open-toed shoes against a stone on the sidewalk. “One of the students I tutored gave me a couple of tickets to the Philharmonic once, but Tosh turned down the chance, and I didn’t want to go alone.”
“Too bad. It’s worth a visit.”
She slanted a glance at him from the frame of her curls, saw him looking, and dropped her gaze to her feet. “You know, I never had a chance to tell you how sorry I was about your dad.”
“You were ten. Not like I made it easy for anyone to get close, either. I shut down. Took a while, but I got through it in the end.” He moved closer to her on his next step. “Did it make it tough for you and your dad when my mom stopped the childcare cold turkey?”
“Not really. He decided I would be okay on my own.” She lowered her eyebrows, mouth turned down in a passable imitation of her dad’s perma-scowl. “Lots of girls your age babysit younger kids all the time. You ought to be able to look after yourself.”
“Christ, you sound just like him.”
“I’ve had lots of time to perfect my impression. He hasn’t changed much.”
“He still live in Beaverton?”
“No. He moved to a seniors-only condo complex in Florida when I was at Columbia. From what I can tell, he’s got about half a dozen widows plying him with food and canasta in the hopes he’ll take the plunge and marry one of them.”
“How’s that working out for them?”
She grinned at him. “How do you think? He says thank you for the food, trounces their butts at cards, and forgets them entirely when he closes the door and sits down with his books.” She stroked one of the roses with a fingertip. “I came by my introversion honestly. Good old-fashioned genetics.”
She stopped on the sidewalk in front of her house. The first floor windows were dark and empty, the lettering announcing the Douglas Travel Agency faded and scratched. The third floor was dark, as well, but the lights from the second floor flat shone from the windows, welcoming in the twilight.
She turned to face him. “Thank you. For dinner. For the flowers. They really are beautiful. I’m sorry I was such a dork about them.” She reached for the vase, and he tucked it more firmly into the crook of his elbow.
“Uh-uh. Personal delivery is included in this service. I’ll take them up.”
“But…” She glanced at the door, tugging on the hem of her shirt. Daniel counted it a personal victory that he kept his gaze on her face. “Okay. Although you may be sorry.”
She led the way upstairs, but before she could pull her keys out of her purse, the apartment door opened. Gideon posed in the doorway, backlit by the glow of the lamps in the living room.
“Halloooo, the tardy diners. Does your presence mean you’ve chosen to accept the trivia challenge?”
Beyond Gideon, Daniel saw Lindsay tucked into the corner of the dark green couch and Toshiko perched in a wingback chair, her spine straighter than the average flagpole.
Daniel raised a hand in greeting. “All the usual suspects, I see.” Lindsay released her hold on a throw pillow and waggled her fingers. Toshiko tilted her head a half inch to the left.
Gideon tugged them into the entryway. “I’m desperate, Charles. Lindsay doesn’t play, Tosh won’t do anything but referee, and the best you and I ever manage is a draw. I need a fresh victim.” He slanted a wicked glance at Daniel from under his bangs. “I mean, a new worthy opponent. What do you say, big boy? You in?”
He grinned and set the vase on the bar. “Absolutely.”
“Excellent. Let the games begin.”
Chapter Ten
Geekronym: BASIC
Translation: Beginner’s All-Purpose Symbolic Instruction Code
Definition: One of the earliest and simplest high-level programming languages, developed with the intention of providing an accessible, easy-to-learn code set to introduce students to programming.
As Daniel crossed the room to greet Lindsay and Toshiko, Charlie grabbed Gideon’s arm and yanked him into the corner of the entryway.
“What are you doing?”
“Facilitating.”
“Well, stop it.”
“If I don’t, who will? Look, Charles. You’ve got to keep He-Man, former Master of the Blogoverse, on tap for a solid month. If you’re not planning to enjoy it, don’t spoil everyone else’s fun.” He peered at her over the top of his glasses. “Including his.”
He marched off to join the others.
Huddled next to the door, Charlie watched Daniel’s easy smile charm Lindsay into releasing her usual chokehold on her comfort pillow. Even Toshiko replied to something he said, shifting her attention from her tablet for a record thirty seconds.
He was…nice. Something she’d never expected because she’d been working from faulty assumptions for years.
How could she have forgotten that their breach in middle school had coincided with his father’s death? Every equation has two sides, and the death of a parent was one hell of a weighted variable. When she considered Daniel’s behavior in that light, it took on a different meaning, one in which she might have let him down.
As Tosh had reminded her, past events were fixed. She couldn’t go back and change what had happened. But maybe after she’d won her bet, after she was safely employed by AGS, after she and Daniel had had their amicable Stage Two breakup, she could approach him as a friend.
Because she’d missed him. She had to admit that to herself, even if she never told another soul, livi
ng or virtual. Why else had she tracked his career with her GPPS all these years? She’d missed all of it—their science projects, their marathon Star Trek/Doctor Who sessions, their arguments about everything from the best gaming snacks to what Mr. Spock would do with a TARDIS.
Last week, she’d never have believed she’d face a prolonged evening with Daniel, her chest aflutter with anticipation instead of awash in panic.
But now? Bring it on.
…
Daniel scooted closer to Lindsay to make room for Charlie and patted the cushion next to him.
“Suppose you show me what I signed on for. Give me a demonstration.”
She sat down next to him, not quite close enough to touch. “Well. Okay. Tosh, give us the word?”
“Brace yourself,” Lindsay whispered.
“Charlie, on my mark…” Toshiko waited until Gideon was practically vibrating. “Begin.”
“Which actress played—”
“Suzie Plakson. What do Cardassians—”
“Hot fish juice. What’s the twenty-first—”
“‘Never place friendship above profit.’ How many—”
“Wait wait wait.” Daniel raised his hands in a time-out gesture. “You don’t even finish the questions?”
Charlie shrugged. “We’ve been playing this game a loooong time.”
“Tosh had to change the rules for Charlie and Gideon. For them, it’s more a speed round kind of thing.”
“Well, help a guy out here. What were the questions?”
Charlie ticked them off on her fingers. “Which actress played the most distinct alien characters, what do Cardassians drink in the morning, and what’s the twenty-first Rule of Acquisition.”
“Christ.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Gideon leaned back in his chair. “Now you see why I need new blood in the game?”
Daniel inclined his head toward Charlie until her curls tickled his cheek. “When he says blood, how literally is he speaking?”
“Do you really want to know?” He mock-shuddered, covering his eyes with one hand, and she laughed. Score. “Maybe I should have mentioned. Gideon studied Klingon as a second language in middle school.”
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