Blushing Pink (19 page)

"Well, my younger sister, Danny, is, but my parents moved to Florida a while ago." Abruptly his eyes darkened just a little, and his shoulders seemed to stiffen. He sighed. "Actually, Danny's sort of having a tough time lately—"

"Bro-ock!"

Not now, not now.

"So
here
you are!" Darcy wailed.

"Yeah, what do you need?" Reese asked, feeling annoyed.

Darcy looked at Brian, and started licking her frosty lips and trying to pout at the same time. She looked vaguely like a frog trying to loosen a poppy seed. Not a pretty picture.

"Darcy?"

"Huh? Oh, right. I wanted to know if you were the one who flooded the employee bathroom this morning."

WHAT! Of course
she hadn't. And did Darcy have to put that image in Brian's head?

"Well?"

"No, I didn't," Reese replied with steely calm.

Darcy tilted her head to the side, squinting suspiciously. "Are you
sure,
because—"

"Darcy," Reese said sharply, "I don't even know what you're talking about. And to be honest, I think this is really out of line, especially since I still have ten minutes left on break."

Darcy seemed taken aback by that one. But then, most despots were clueless about little things like employee rights and labor laws. Tugging on the hem of her lavender baby tee, and bringing it even tighter across her breasts, Darcy screeched, "Reey-eer!" and made a clawing motion with her hand.

Reese shot a look at Brian, who was looking back at her, his eyes locking with hers, as if sharing a sense of the ridiculous, as if totally unimpressed with Darcy and her breast trick and her bitchiness.

Darcy turned on her platform heel and charged over to the counter. Good, if anyone could deal with her it was Tina.

"Oh, God," Reese said after she'd left, "she is so annoying." She shook her head and covered her eyes with her hand.

Brian chuckled. "That's an understatement. How do you stand it?"

Reese shrugged. "I guess I try to see the humor. Well, some of the time. Most of the time I wallow in self-pity."

"Hey, not to change the subject," he said quietly, "but do you know that guy over there?" Reese followed the direction of his eyes.
Oh, yuck!
It was that creepy customer from the other day! "He keeps looking over here," Brian said.

"Looking over" didn't begin to cover it. He was standing at the milk bar, stirring his coffee over and over, round and round, while he kept a fixed gaze on Reese and a closemouthed smirk on his dissipated face.
This, I need.

"No," Reese said finally, "I don't
know
him, know him. I just served him the other day." After a beat, she whispered, "Is he still looking over here?"

"Uh... yeah."

As she stole another look, the man deepened the smirk—making him look somewhere between lovesick and mentally sick. A familiar old woman hobbled up to him from behind. "What's taking you so long?" she nagged. "My corns are hinting!"

"Mother!"
He pressed his mouth into a tight, furious line before shouting, "Can't you ever be quiet! I
hate
when you do this!" He slammed his coffee down on the milk bar and stormed out of the cafe; his mother trailed behind, appearing unaffected and clueless.

"So, looks like you've got a new boyfriend," Brian teased.

Reese laughed and plunked her head down on the table. "Great," she mumbled, "just what I always wanted." Brian laughed.

"What do you think
you're
doing!" Darcy yelled. Reese shot up automatically, but for a twist, it wasn't her being scolded. It was Elliot, who was just sitting down at a vacant table. "What are
you
doing out here?" Darcy shrilled. "I
told
you to shelve the new dog-care books and I want it done
now."

Brian muttered, "Jesus Christ. Tight ship."

"I've gotta go help Elliot," Reese said apologetically as she glanced up at the clock. "I still have a few minutes left of my break."

Brian looked surprised; then he smiled warmly at her like she was the sweetest person on earth.
Please.
If he knew half the raunchy things she'd dreamed about him, he wouldn't think she was so sweet. But for now, let him think that.

He stood up with her. "Actually, what am I doing still sitting here? I've gone on about my job, and now I'll probably get fired if I keep taking long lunches like this."

He shrugged on his coat, and Reese tried not to stare at the broadness of his shoulders as they were covered.

They walked a few feet together—from the shiny wood floor down the steps onto the shimmery green carpet of the store. Then Reese leaned in closer than she probably should have. "Well, thanks for hanging out with me on my break," she said, smiling up at Brian.

Abruptly, he seemed to pull back.

His voice was a little distant when he replied, "Yeah, um, it was good seeing you. Bye-bye." Giving her a quick smile, he walked briskly out of the store.

Strange.
Reese couldn't put her finger on it—yes, she knew they were friendly with each other, and nothing more, but still... there was something different in Brian's demeanor just now. Something guarded, as though he were establishing the casualness of their relationship.

Of course!
she realized, suddenly feeling like a fool. Brian must have picked up on Reese's strong attraction to him, despite her attempts to hide it. Now he was trying to make sure that she wouldn't get the wrong idea.

God, was there anything worse than being pitied? Reese sighed as she made her way to the pets section to find Elliot.
Wrong idea.
Yes, that pretty much summed up her love life. In fact, if it ever was the
right
idea, she'd probably die of shock.

Chapter 14

Joanna was getting in a little
Wedding Story
before she and Reese headed to the Goldwood women's clubhouse. "Now look at him," she was saying, standing by the television and pointing to the frumpy man on the screen. "Yes, maybe he's not a 'stud,' as you two would say, but he's obviously a sweet guy who'll make a good husband."

"I guess," Ally hedged, buttoning her long velour coat. "But his voice..."

"What about it?"

"It's all nasally; you didn't notice? Besides, I question his preferences in life."

Reese laughed from her perch on the stone half-wall that separated the family room and the kitchen. Joanna sighed, exasperated. "Oh, there's no talking to you two. You're both so superficial. Here's a solid, nice guy—"

"How can you possibly know that?" Ally said, rolling her eyes. "What else is he gonna say on television? 'I like depravity and misogyny—as much as I can get.' I don't think so."

"Well,
she
certainly couldn't wait to get her hooks in," Joanna argued, referring to the frumpy man's betrothed.

"Face it, Mom," Reese said, shifting to dangle her legs off the ledge, "the guys on this show just don't do it for us. It's nothing personal."

"Well, then, who does 'do it' for you?" Joanna asked pointedly, no longer lumping Ally and Reese together, but directly addressing Reese. The message was perfectly clear: It was okay for Ally to be superficial as long as she had Ben.

Just then the phone rang. "I'll get it," Ally said. "It might be about my dress." She darted into the kitchen and grabbed the receiver on the third ring. "Hello? Oh, yes, who's calling? Oh,
hi.
Hang on." She brought the phone over to Reese and whispered,
"It's Kenneth. When do I get to meet him?"

Reese ignored the question and took the phone. "Hello?"

"Yes, hello." It was Kenneth, all right—no missing the effusive, downright lovey-dovey greeting. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Oh, no, no," she replied, twining the phone cord around her finger as she walked into the pantry. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing in particular," he said. "How is your work going? Your work for Professor Kimble, that is?"

"Um... okay. I don't know; I'm trying not to think about it too much over break."

Did she have to draw this guy a
picture?
One of Kimble, his book, and then a circle with a line through it?

"So, what have you been up to?" she asked, trying to shift the conversation to something less agonizing. After all, Kenneth was on break, too. Surely he must have been doing some fun things. Playing sports, catching a movie, reading some good books...
anything.

"Not too much."

Reese sighed quietly, and racked her brain to come up with something else to say. It hadn't always been this strained between them; in the beginning they'd discussed a lot of getting-to-know-you things. But over the past few weeks... well, maybe she was being especially picky now that she'd spent two afternoons talking to Brian Doren.

"Well, I was calling to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening," Kenneth said, breaking her reverie. "Yes... I would really like to take you out for a nice dinner."

Reese blinked. It sounded like Kenneth was actually taking some initiative here. First he'd called her without her calling first, and now he was asking her out for Saturday night, which definitely implied "romantic evening."

Hmm... Reese couldn't help feeling mildly intrigued. Maybe Kenneth had noticed her significant dip in interest, and now was trying to make up for it. He was always so stoic and reserved, Reese couldn't help being curious whether he was really capable of pursuing someone.

"Tomorrow night?" she finally said. "Yeah, okay, that sounds great." She'd never been good at hard-to-get, so she wouldn't attempt it now. "Did you want me to come into the city?"
Please say no.
She didn't have to work at Roland & Fisk over the weekend, and she'd rather not make the drive.

"No, no, that won't be necessary," he said. "If you give me directions to your house, I will drive there. Perhaps we can have dinner at a restaurant near you."

"Okay, sure," Reese replied energetically, figuring that Kenneth needed his assertive behavior positively reinforced. "I know a great Italian place, if you want, or—"

"Yes, that will be fine. Well, I really should get going. If you could, please e-mail me directions from school."

"Oh, sure. Definitely."

"Thank you. Good-bye."

"Bye," Reese said, thinking, Life just got a little less predictable.

As she exited the pantry, she found Ally and Joanna in the kitchen waiting with bated breath. "Well?" Joanna said, her eyes huge and hopeful. "Come on, don't keep us in suspense! What,
what?"

"Mom, beg
off—
you're panting," Ally said, and looked at Reese. "So what's the deal?"

Reese set the receiver in its cradle and shrugged. "It's no big deal. He just asked me out to dinner tomorrow night, and I said yes."

Joanna clapped her hands in rapid succession and exclaimed, "Oh! A date! This is so wonderful; you and he are back on track!" She threw her arms around Reese. "Whatever you're doing, honey,
keep doing it."

Reese managed a faint half smile. She could always count on her mother's encouragement to be deluded, sexist, and just plain warped.

* * *

"Will this torture ever
end?"

"Sweetheart, we've only been here two hours," Joanna said breezily, handing her another bulbous, shiny ornament that weighed a ton.

"But we've been doing all the work," Reese said, setting the final gold ball on the durable string of garland she'd hung around the activities room of the Goldwood clubhouse. "Where's everyone else?" she asked as she climbed down the ladder.

"I guess they're still in the kitchen enjoying the coffee and doughnuts I brought."

"Way to go, Mom," Reese said, grinning, as her feet touched down on the hardwood floor. She wiped her hands on her jeans and looked around. Not bad at all. The Christmas decorations were done, and the immense tree in the corner, glittering with tinsel and lights, needed only one thing.

"Okay, I'll put the star on the tree; then I need a break."

"All right, that sounds fair," Joanna said. They hauled the ladder over to the tree and leaned it against the wall. Reese climbed it shakily with the heavy glass star tucked under her right arm. When she was finally on eye-level with the treetop, she leaned sideways to set the star in place.

"Oh, be careful, sweetheart!" Joanna called from below.

"I... will," she eked out, as she tilted dangerously over and set the star in place. Once she'd climbed back down the ladder, she and Joanna walked down the wooded hallway into the kitchen. It was a large, clean room with shiny stainless steel and white tile everywhere she looked. Several club members were parked around the long table in the center, going to town on the coffee and doughnuts.

"Joanna!" Mrs. Claflin called, and motioned with a cruller. "Come sit with us; you've been working so hard!"

"Yes, sit, sit," some of the others said.

Joanna smiled, demurring the compliment, and took a seat next to Mrs. McBride—Lane's mother—who said, "Ooh, Reese, be a hon and put a fresh pot on, will you? Since you're up."