“Zita likes to meet everyone,” Carly said. “Did you move from New York?”
“No, I was living in Michigan. I was tired of the cold.”
“And you mentioned you’ve got a brother?”
“Yeah, he’s younger. He’s an electrician, and still lives around the corner from my folks.”
“Are you close?”
“We chat about once a month. There were no regular lunches at my parents’ place, like you do with your sisters. That must be nice.”
She nodded and took a sip of her drink.
He didn’t want to talk about his family. He was far more interested in her. “So what did you do before you became CEO of your own company? What did a young Carly do for fun?”
She sat up, a little more alert now. “Not much.”
“No? You didn’t have boys hanging around?”
She laughed in disbelief. “Hardly.”
“Really? Weren’t you fighting them off?” She was beautiful with her darker skin, her deep brown eyes, and her curvy body.
“They didn’t notice I was alive,” she said. “I wasn’t one of the popular girls.”
“So which crowd did you fit with – the geeks, the marching band, the jocks?”
She shrugged. “None of them.”
Evan gazed at her. He wouldn’t have picked her as a loner. “A small group of friends?”
Carly looked away. “Something like that. What about you?”
“The artists, of course. I loved creating things.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “May have even got into trouble for painting a graffiti mural on the back of the locker rooms, but they kept it there.” That had been incredibly fun and exciting, two of his friends keeping watch while he painted a scene with the school’s mascot and the different teams on the field training. It had taken all day during one summer vacation.
“Always the creative. Did you go to college?”
“Yeah. Rhode Island School of Design.”
She raised her eyebrows. “That’s one of the best.”
“Got in on a scholarship.” It had been one of the proudest moments of his life. He’d expected his parents to be thrilled for him.
He’d been wrong.
***
“What about you?” Evan asked. “Did you go to college?”
Carly was enjoying herself, but now she paused. How much she should tell him? “Eventually. I had a mentor who taught me how to code, and supported my first little software program. When I came up with the idea for Comunidad, I needed to learn more.”
“So you were sixteen when you sold your first program?”
“Yes.” It was the biggest thrill of her life. She’d been able to buy herself a new computer with the initial proceeds, and later when she’d found herself a distributor, she’d bought her mother a new car.
“What made you want to learn how to program?” His expression was interested, as if he genuinely wanted to know.
She hesitated. She actually wanted to tell him, and she felt like she could trust him. Was she being gullible?
The worst that could happen was he’d tell her story to the media, and she wasn’t ashamed of her past. “I was a freshman in high school and was in the library after school.” It was where she’d always hung out, away from people who wanted to make fun of her, with her books that made her feel safe. “One of the seniors was being tutored by an older guy and I listened in. It sounded fascinating. I never realized you could learn how to code programs. Afterward, I got out as many books on the subject as I could find, and every week I made sure I was in the library for the tutor session so I could listen.”
“You didn’t ask him to tutor you?”
“Mama wouldn’t have been able to afford it. As it was, I had to use the school’s computers to experiment with because we didn’t have a computer at home.” If the teachers had known what she was doing, they wouldn’t have been pleased.
“So were you completely self-taught?”
“No.” She smiled. “After about a month, the tutor noticed I was always there and he saw what I was doing on the computer.” She’d been stuck on a piece of code and had chosen the computer close to the tutor in hope she could get a glimpse of the screen. “He was impressed and offered to help.” It had been a little terrifying that the older man had even spoken to her, let alone wanted to help. She’d barely been able to squeak out a response. “From then, we used to meet at the library once a week. I’d ask him any questions I had and he’d answer them.” Dennis had been retired and she suspected now that he’d got as much enjoyment out of their interaction as she had. He hadn’t had any family close by.
“He gave me my first laptop. It was an old, slow thing that he didn’t use any more, but it was so much better than using the library computers. It meant I could continue programming when I got home.”
“What did your mother think?”
Carly smiled at the memory. “When I brought the laptop home, she was horrified. She wanted to know what this man wanted from her little girl. She demanded to meet him and he convinced her he wasn’t taking advantage of me.” She placed her empty glass on the blanket, leaning it up against the basket so it didn’t tip over, and ate another stuffed pepper.
“When did you start work on your own software?”
“I made a couple of games for my sisters first. My tutor gave me instructions to build something simple. From then I knew I wanted to build something for myself.” With her own computer she was able to spend all her school breaks coding. She’d been so incredibly shy that she didn’t have any friends to hang out with.
“Are you still in touch with your tutor?”
She nodded. “He moved to Austin to be closer to his grandchildren, but I see him a couple of times a year.”
“He must be incredibly proud of you.”
Dennis wasn’t the type to give effusive praise. And he’d tried to refuse when she’d given him shares in Comunidad, but she’d insisted. Without him, it never would have happened.
The light was fading. There were less people running on the paths and the families over by the barbecue facilities were packing up. Carly didn’t want to go, but she wasn’t keen to stay out here at night either. “It’s getting dark.”
“Do you want to get some dessert?” Evan asked. “There’s a chocolate place not far from here. We could grab ice cream or a cake.”
It sounded wonderful. She didn’t often have dessert. “Sure.” She helped him pack up the hamper and fold the picnic blanket. When he held out his hand to her, she took it without thinking, enjoying the warmth and comfort. They walked side by side, slowly back to the car. Carly hadn’t ever been this relaxed on a first date. Evan had surprised her with the suggestion of a picnic and everything else had been so casual. It was “getting to know you” conversation, but it wasn’t forced. For once, she didn’t feel as if he wanted something else from her. He seemed genuinely interested in her as a person, not as a billionaire. Could he really be interested in her? Carly hoped so.
On the drive to the chocolate place, Evan broke the silence. “Zita introduced me to this place. She got me hooked on the triple crème truffles when she brought some over as a welcome gift.”
When they arrived, it was full of people, and the rich aroma of melted chocolate captured Carly’s attention. It smelled divine.
“Shall we grab something to go?” Evan suggested. “It’s a bit crowded.”
“Sure.” She walked over to the cabinet, which displayed rows of chocolates, brownies, cakes and pies. She had no idea what to try. While she perused the menu, Evan ordered a dozen triple crème truffles and an ice cream cone. Deciding ice cream would be the easiest if they were getting take out, Carly pointed to the flavor she wanted and got her wallet out.
“I’m paying,” Evan said.
“I can pay, you bought dinner.”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve got this.” He gently pushed away her hand.
It wasn’t right to let him pay. She had more money
than him. “I’m happy to.”
“So am I,” he said firmly.
The determination on his face made Carly put her wallet away. It gave her flutters in her stomach that he paid, like this was a real date. She took her cone from the shop assistant and followed Evan outside. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
They wandered down the street until they found a park bench and took a seat. It was dark now, but still early. Carly wasn’t ready to invite him back to her place, but she didn’t want the date to end yet.
“So we’ve talked about family, childhoods and education. Now it’s time to ask the tough questions,” Evan said, his tone serious, but with a glint in his eye.
Carly’s lips quirked. “What would they be?”
“Favorite color?”
“Emerald green.”
“Favorite TV show.”
“I don’t watch television.”
Evan sat back. “What, not at all?”
“I don’t have time.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. Favorite movie.”
She pursed her lips together. That was a tough question. She didn’t have much time to go to the movies either. “I don’t know. What’s yours?”
“Die Hard,” he said instantly.
“What’s it about?”
His mouth dropped open. “You’ve never heard of Die Hard?”
She shook her head, that old sensation of being on the outer swirling in her stomach. She wasn’t familiar with a lot of pop culture references, had always preferred to be lost in her programming world.
“Bruce Willis, yippee-ki-yay?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” she said lightly, trying to think of another question to ask.
“That’s a tragedy. I’m going to have to rectify that. Everyone needs to see Die Hard.”
“What’s so good about it?”
He opened his mouth and then shut it again, shaking his head. “No, I can’t explain it. You have to see it for yourself. We could go to my place now and watch it?”
Carly got the feeling he was deadly serious, and this wasn’t just a way to get her back to his place. She couldn’t help smiling. But calculating the time it would take to get out there and back, she shook her head. It’d be a two-hour round trip and she couldn’t ask that of him. “I’ll take a raincheck.”
“What about tomorrow? No, wait, I’m going to your mother’s to paint.”
“Really?” Her mother would be thrilled.
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it.” He sounded genuinely excited.
Carly finished her ice cream as he asked, “Any pets?”
“I have a tropical fish tank.” It had come with the apartment, and maintenance on the tank was included in her lease. All she had to do was feed them occasionally. “You?”
“An Australian bulldog.”
She’d never had a dog before and was never sure how to behave around them. Zita’s two dogs were so energetic and made her a little uneasy.
They walked back to the car. “Did you want to go to the movies tonight? There’s still time,” Evan said.
She would, but there was so much she needed to get done tomorrow. She really should get back to work, she’d had enough time off as it was. “I’m a little tired.”
“Of course.”
They were silent on the drive back to her apartment. After pulling up, Evan jumped out and ran around to the passenger side door to open it. Ridiculously pleased at the old-fashioned gallantry, she got out.
“Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“Thank you for giving me some of your time.”
She stood outside her apartment building. Was that it? Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to? “Well, I’d better go in.” She moved a step away and he took hold of her hand.
“Just one more thing,” he said and he bent his head toward her.
Her breath caught moments before his lips touched hers. It was a gentle kiss, soft and sweet, but Carly’s heart raced in response.
“Good night, Carly,” Evan said as he stepped back.
Her legs a little unsteady, she nodded to him. “Good night.”
She fled inside.
Chapter 6
Evan felt pretty darn good when he woke up on Sunday morning. His date with Carly had been nice, casual. He’d had the opportunity to learn more about her, and what he’d learned left him wanting more. She was . . . reserved wasn’t quite the right word. Cautious might be better, and he’d only just scratched the surface. When he’d arrived home, he’d done a quick sketch of her sitting on the picnic blanket, in her flowery summer dress, looking relaxed. That’s the person he wanted to see more of. He didn’t think the businesswoman Carolina was really who she was at all.
Then there was the kiss. He’d decided to keep it short, almost friendly, but the spark when his lips met hers had surprised and aroused him. There was so much hiding beneath her surface.
He made coffee and went out on the back deck to enjoy the morning sun. His bulldog, McClane, came with him and Evan tossed him a treat. McClane laid down next to his chair and munched on the bone-shaped chew. It was gone in seconds.
Evan liked his place. It might be a rental, like all of the other places he’d lived in since leaving New York, but this was the first place he’d felt settled. Everywhere else was more like a stop before his final destination. Still, he wasn’t ready to make a commitment. The idea of having a mortgage was a little bit frightening, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure this was where he belonged. He may be feeling settled because the house had everything he wanted: a decent swimming pool so he could do laps, space from his neighbors so he could play music at whatever volume he liked, and it had a yard for McClane to explore on the odd occasion when he was feeling adventurous.
But that didn’t mean Evan belonged. He’d never really belonged. New York had been full of hustle and bustle, but everyone was rushed, unhappy, going through the motions. His parents had been a prime example. They worked long hours, complained about their jobs, and spent every cent as soon as it came in. They were tied to their paychecks and too caught up in their own lives to remember to pick him up after class. Evan had vowed never to be like that.
After college he’d tried a small town in Rhode Island, but it had been too small, everyone wanting to know his business, and that didn’t work for him. In each city after, he’d floated around, not becoming part of the community. None of the artist centers he’d joined had members who were full-time artists, they were all treating it like a hobby. He hadn’t been able to convince anyone that his way of working actually brought in money. Not a fortune, that’s for sure, but enough for him to live and keep doing what he loved.
When he’d left Detroit, he’d chosen to try a bigger town on the outskirts of a city. He’d discovered this place, and he’d even made a good friend in Zita. It was strange having someone to chat to and discuss ideas when in the past, he’d always had to rely on himself.
No one else was interested.
His mind veered away from that thought. Today he was heading over to Carmen’s to do the first sketches of her garden. He hadn’t quite decided what medium he was going to use, though he was leaning toward acrylics. Those details would come to him when he had a better idea of what he wanted to do, which angle to capture.
He was curious about Carmen. She had been genuinely moved by his offer to paint her garden. He’d bet Carly’s willingness to help others came from her.
He smiled at the thought of Carly. Should he call her? Would it seem too eager to call straight after their date? Would she be too busy to chat? Probably. He’d been stunned when she’d listed off her appointments the week before, amazed she’d even agreed to go on a date on her one night free.
He didn’t want to seem too pushy, and casual dating suited him just fine. He was uncomfortable with women who wanted to spend every second of the day with him, especially when he was painting. So he wasn’t going to be one of those people for Carly. He’d
leave things a couple of days and then call.
Pleased with the decision, he got to his feet and headed over to Carmen’s.
***
At ten o’clock exactly, he knocked on the front door of Casa Flanagan. Unlike the other day, it was silent. Zita’s two dogs wagged their tails next to him, looking up as if to say, are we going inside?
Perhaps Carmen wasn’t back from church yet.
Evan debated what to do. He hated waiting, and there was no point going home and turning right back around to come back. He might as well get to work. The dogs would let him know when Carmen arrived. He took his things out of the car and walked around the side of the house.
The garden was as lush as he remembered, with colors and textures intertwining. He wandered the paths, working out which perspective he wanted to paint, and taking a few photos to get an idea of framing. A door banged shut and he looked up to see a girl in her early twenties walking away from one of the little cottages at the back of the property. Not wanting to startle her, he called, “Hola,” and waved when she glanced over.
The girl hesitated and then walked toward him, keeping a garden bed between them. “Who are you?”
“Evan Hayes,” he said. “Carmen said I could come and paint her garden, but she must still be at church.”
The girl relaxed. “Zita mentioned you. I’m Daniella.” She stepped back. “I need to get to work. The others shouldn’t be long. I’ll see you around.”
He continued his meandering until he’d explored the whole garden and had chosen two or three spots. As he walked back to the house, the dogs barked and a car pulled up the drive. Out front, a van drove into the garage and all the women poured out. Zita saw him first.
“Hola, Evan. I hope you haven’t been waiting long?”
“No. I took a walk through the garden, found some spots I’d like to set up.”
“That’s great. Come inside and have a drink.”
He greeted Carmen with a kiss on both cheeks and followed them inside to the kitchen where Zita made him a glass of horchata. He was itching to start drawing, but he had learned his manners from an early age. He had to do the small talk first.
Luckily, Zita recognized the signs. “Why don’t you take the drink and get started? Give us a holler if you need a hand.”
Change of Heart (The Flanagan Sisters, #2) Page 6
