delight and a torment. An unforgettable night and his very unforgiveable behavior.
Â
He had much to make up for.
Â
"Goodbye Brian. Thanks so much for an informative weekend."
Â
He turned to see who spoke, but calls were coming from all around him as people headed back to their own lives.
Â
Good, soon he could leave, too. He wanted to go and walk his restlessness out on the beach. Hug Chelsea and listen to her squeals of joy. Return to his normal life and think.
Â
A staff member crossed his line of vision and disturbed his musing. The young man walked up to him, carrying a large florist's box. "Sir, this just arrived for you."
Â
Reading the nametag on the man's shirt, Brian said, "Thanks, John. Does it say who it's from?"
Â
"No. There's probably a card on the inside. Do you want to open it here or take it with you?"
Â
"I'll take it home. Would you mind putting it over there, with the cartons stacked up by the double doors?" He nodded at the spot. Even from here, he could smell the heavy scent wafting towards him. Roses.
Â
He swiveled quickly, searching for Karina. Would she have sent him flowers? No, that wasn't her style. She'd have handed them to him, wouldn't she? He spotted her in the crowd, chewing on her bottom lip again. Damn it. Brian grinned as he realized Karina's eyes were following the path of the box. She was also frowning. Good, let her wonder.
Â
Why should he be the only one tormented?
Â
Their eyes met. She said something to the group she'd been standing with and walked toward him. A smile was trying to poke through, but didn't quite succeed.
Â
"A gift from an admirer, Brian?" Her gaze swiveled to the florist's box again. "As long as it isn't from Ian."
Â
Again, part of her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth. Damn it, she had to quit doing that.
Â
"No, that would be the last thing he'd send me," he joked. He reached over and firmly turned her around so her back was to the box. "I'll take them home to my daughter. She'll enjoy opening them."
Â
"How old is she?" Her gaze widened in surprise. "Does she live with her mom? How often do you see her?"
Â
He answered patiently, having forgotten the universal reaction women had to finding out about Chelsea. "She's almost three, going on twelve. Chelsea lives with her mom, but comes over regularly. Some weekends she stays with me." Love swept through his voice. He adored his delightful tyrant. "You needn't sound so surprised, children are normal in a marriage."
Â
"Sorry." She laughed, backing up a step. "I'm glad you're so close to her. Too many children are growing up without their fathers today. I didn't mean to get personal."
Â
He barely resisted tugging her closer. They'd caused enough gossip this weekend as it were.
Â
"Are you ready to go?" Karina's question brought him back to their surroundings.
Â
"Is it that time already?" He looked around, surprised. When had it gotten so late?
Â
The lobby had the depressing look of the morning after a party. It was deserted, with coffee cups and dirty plates littering the space. Papers and boxes were stacked against one wall. Lonely piles of luggage dotted the lobby. A few stragglers were still saying their goodbyes. It even smelled old and stale, empty.
Â
Susan and Paul were making their way over to them. Paul held out his hand. "Thank you for taking such good care of my wife. She plans to attend your evening lectures, so we'll see you again." He turned to face Karina. "I understand that you and Susan have some big plans that she wants to talk to me about. Presumably, we'll also be seeing you again."
Â
"Most likely. We'll definitely be staying in touch."
Â
The women winked conspiratorially at each other and hugged once more in farewell.
Â
"I'll miss Susan," Karina said, her gaze locked on the couple as they left. "Hopefully we can make our idea work. But there's lots of research to do first," she
Â
He had much to make up for.
Â
"Goodbye Brian. Thanks so much for an informative weekend."
Â
He turned to see who spoke, but calls were coming from all around him as people headed back to their own lives.
Â
Good, soon he could leave, too. He wanted to go and walk his restlessness out on the beach. Hug Chelsea and listen to her squeals of joy. Return to his normal life and think.
Â
A staff member crossed his line of vision and disturbed his musing. The young man walked up to him, carrying a large florist's box. "Sir, this just arrived for you."
Â
Reading the nametag on the man's shirt, Brian said, "Thanks, John. Does it say who it's from?"
Â
"No. There's probably a card on the inside. Do you want to open it here or take it with you?"
Â
"I'll take it home. Would you mind putting it over there, with the cartons stacked up by the double doors?" He nodded at the spot. Even from here, he could smell the heavy scent wafting towards him. Roses.
Â
He swiveled quickly, searching for Karina. Would she have sent him flowers? No, that wasn't her style. She'd have handed them to him, wouldn't she? He spotted her in the crowd, chewing on her bottom lip again. Damn it. Brian grinned as he realized Karina's eyes were following the path of the box. She was also frowning. Good, let her wonder.
Â
Why should he be the only one tormented?
Â
Their eyes met. She said something to the group she'd been standing with and walked toward him. A smile was trying to poke through, but didn't quite succeed.
Â
"A gift from an admirer, Brian?" Her gaze swiveled to the florist's box again. "As long as it isn't from Ian."
Â
Again, part of her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth. Damn it, she had to quit doing that.
Â
"No, that would be the last thing he'd send me," he joked. He reached over and firmly turned her around so her back was to the box. "I'll take them home to my daughter. She'll enjoy opening them."
Â
"How old is she?" Her gaze widened in surprise. "Does she live with her mom? How often do you see her?"
Â
He answered patiently, having forgotten the universal reaction women had to finding out about Chelsea. "She's almost three, going on twelve. Chelsea lives with her mom, but comes over regularly. Some weekends she stays with me." Love swept through his voice. He adored his delightful tyrant. "You needn't sound so surprised, children are normal in a marriage."
Â
"Sorry." She laughed, backing up a step. "I'm glad you're so close to her. Too many children are growing up without their fathers today. I didn't mean to get personal."
Â
He barely resisted tugging her closer. They'd caused enough gossip this weekend as it were.
Â
"Are you ready to go?" Karina's question brought him back to their surroundings.
Â
"Is it that time already?" He looked around, surprised. When had it gotten so late?
Â
The lobby had the depressing look of the morning after a party. It was deserted, with coffee cups and dirty plates littering the space. Papers and boxes were stacked against one wall. Lonely piles of luggage dotted the lobby. A few stragglers were still saying their goodbyes. It even smelled old and stale, empty.
Â
Susan and Paul were making their way over to them. Paul held out his hand. "Thank you for taking such good care of my wife. She plans to attend your evening lectures, so we'll see you again." He turned to face Karina. "I understand that you and Susan have some big plans that she wants to talk to me about. Presumably, we'll also be seeing you again."
Â
"Most likely. We'll definitely be staying in touch."
Â
The women winked conspiratorially at each other and hugged once more in farewell.
Â
"I'll miss Susan," Karina said, her gaze locked on the couple as they left. "Hopefully we can make our idea work. But there's lots of research to do first," she
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