accident.
“Finley Tanner,” I practically growled into the receiver.
“Wow, you’re in a mood. Caffeine withdrawal?”
Hearing Patrick’s voice salved my irritation. “Sorry. Hi.
When did you get in?”
“Really late last night.”
That explained why he hadn’t called. I absently started twirling a pen between the fingers of my right hand. I began our well-practiced game by asking, “So, where’d you go this time?”
FedEx flew all over the world. Patrick never told me his itinerary. Instead he brought me thoughtful gifts from whatever countries he’d hit during his trips.
“I’m holding something you can wear and something to eat.”
Just to get his blood boiling, I said, “Mmmm, I’m thinking edible panties.”
“Now that you mention it, so am I,” he teased, his tone dropping several seductive notches.
I was grinning now. The whole Evans mess began evaporating from my thoughts as I threw myself further into the game. I’d missed him. He was my rock, my . . . All of a sudden I had a vision of a big iron ball and chain dangling from around my neck. Was there some kind of subconscious passive-aggressive thing in me that thought of Patrick as some sort of albatross around my neck? That couldn’t be right. He adored me.
I rubbed my tired eyes. “So, what’s the plan?” Patrick always had a plan. Most women would find that impressive and considerate. I did, too, most of the time. Though I wouldn’t have complained if he’d done the occasional spontaneous thing.
Anyway, what was the alternative? Returning to the depths of Single Hell? Pass, thanks. In my opinion, dating is a lot like interviewing for a job you don’t really want but feel compelled to go after.
“Dinner and sex.”
I laughed quietly. “I’m supposed to meet the girls tonight for dinner.”
“You get to see them all the time,” he reminded me.
“Can you get out of it?”
“Sure,” I said on a sigh. I knew full well that I’d get a mixture of grief and support from Becky, Liv, and Jane. I was going to break one of the cardinal rules of girlfriendom.
A last-minute ditch in favor of a man. They’d understand, of course. They knew Patrick and I had to work around his schedule but I’d still be charged with a misdemeanor friendship violation.
“You should come by here first,” he said. “I want to give you your presents before dinner. I’ve made reservations for seven, so you’ll need to be here by six-thirty.”
I glanced at the small clock on the right-hand corner of my computer screen. Amazingly, it was already after one.
Hard work certainly made the time pass.
“I can do that.”
“Six-thirty,” Patrick repeated, knowing full well that I had a small propensity for being late. “Six-thirty-one and you don’t get your presents.”
I felt a twinge of excitement at the thought of being with Patrick again. Knowing him, he’d made reservations at Fendu. He knows how much I adore their food, and the ambiance is to die for.
I spent the next half hour begging off my commitment to the girls. Then I used my lunch hour to run to Macy’s for something new to wear that night. I found an adorable strapless black dress and some really cute satin and rhinestone sandals in just under forty minutes. I talked the clerk down on the shoes because one of the stones was missing.
The dress was fifteen percent off, but only if I opened a new Macy’s account—which I did. Like I need another Visa card, but, hey, for fifteen percent off, it was worth the hassle of filling out the tedious form.
I grabbed a coffee on my way back to the office, stopping only long enough to put my purchases in my car.
Margaret issued her usual faux smile, and I felt her eyes on my back as I slipped into the elevator.
I was looking forward to my date with Patrick, and I was growing curious about my gifts. His choices are always personal—he certainly knows how to set the mood for a romantic reunion. A guy like Liam McGarrity wouldn’t
“Finley Tanner,” I practically growled into the receiver.
“Wow, you’re in a mood. Caffeine withdrawal?”
Hearing Patrick’s voice salved my irritation. “Sorry. Hi.
When did you get in?”
“Really late last night.”
That explained why he hadn’t called. I absently started twirling a pen between the fingers of my right hand. I began our well-practiced game by asking, “So, where’d you go this time?”
FedEx flew all over the world. Patrick never told me his itinerary. Instead he brought me thoughtful gifts from whatever countries he’d hit during his trips.
“I’m holding something you can wear and something to eat.”
Just to get his blood boiling, I said, “Mmmm, I’m thinking edible panties.”
“Now that you mention it, so am I,” he teased, his tone dropping several seductive notches.
I was grinning now. The whole Evans mess began evaporating from my thoughts as I threw myself further into the game. I’d missed him. He was my rock, my . . . All of a sudden I had a vision of a big iron ball and chain dangling from around my neck. Was there some kind of subconscious passive-aggressive thing in me that thought of Patrick as some sort of albatross around my neck? That couldn’t be right. He adored me.
I rubbed my tired eyes. “So, what’s the plan?” Patrick always had a plan. Most women would find that impressive and considerate. I did, too, most of the time. Though I wouldn’t have complained if he’d done the occasional spontaneous thing.
Anyway, what was the alternative? Returning to the depths of Single Hell? Pass, thanks. In my opinion, dating is a lot like interviewing for a job you don’t really want but feel compelled to go after.
“Dinner and sex.”
I laughed quietly. “I’m supposed to meet the girls tonight for dinner.”
“You get to see them all the time,” he reminded me.
“Can you get out of it?”
“Sure,” I said on a sigh. I knew full well that I’d get a mixture of grief and support from Becky, Liv, and Jane. I was going to break one of the cardinal rules of girlfriendom.
A last-minute ditch in favor of a man. They’d understand, of course. They knew Patrick and I had to work around his schedule but I’d still be charged with a misdemeanor friendship violation.
“You should come by here first,” he said. “I want to give you your presents before dinner. I’ve made reservations for seven, so you’ll need to be here by six-thirty.”
I glanced at the small clock on the right-hand corner of my computer screen. Amazingly, it was already after one.
Hard work certainly made the time pass.
“I can do that.”
“Six-thirty,” Patrick repeated, knowing full well that I had a small propensity for being late. “Six-thirty-one and you don’t get your presents.”
I felt a twinge of excitement at the thought of being with Patrick again. Knowing him, he’d made reservations at Fendu. He knows how much I adore their food, and the ambiance is to die for.
I spent the next half hour begging off my commitment to the girls. Then I used my lunch hour to run to Macy’s for something new to wear that night. I found an adorable strapless black dress and some really cute satin and rhinestone sandals in just under forty minutes. I talked the clerk down on the shoes because one of the stones was missing.
The dress was fifteen percent off, but only if I opened a new Macy’s account—which I did. Like I need another Visa card, but, hey, for fifteen percent off, it was worth the hassle of filling out the tedious form.
I grabbed a coffee on my way back to the office, stopping only long enough to put my purchases in my car.
Margaret issued her usual faux smile, and I felt her eyes on my back as I slipped into the elevator.
I was looking forward to my date with Patrick, and I was growing curious about my gifts. His choices are always personal—he certainly knows how to set the mood for a romantic reunion. A guy like Liam McGarrity wouldn’t
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