Chapter 36
“Please tell me you don’t want to hump in the back of your car in the parking garage.”
“Hey, there’s a thought.” He gave a fake enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Nah, I have more class than that.”
“Whew.”
He gazed at her with obvious affection, then lowered his head and kissed her again, differently this time, more the way he had that evening in the hallway outside her bathroom, gently, lingeringly, the way that left her a hollow shell of herself, a brainless, boneless mess of feelings. One of which was fear. Please don’t let Michelle be right.
“Okay.” He moved away reluctantly, smoothed back her hair. “We’ll wait. Back on schedule.”
She tried to shake away her odd mood. “Schedule? You do schedules?”
“I’m only Mr. Spontaneous in comparison to you.”
She scowled in mock anger. “Evil, evil man.”
“And to be honest. I have to be somewhere in about half an hour. Now that you’ve ruled out humping in the garage…”
“Ah.” She tried desperately not to look disappointed.
He held out his hand. “But let’s look around more while we can.”
“Sounds good.” No disappointment. Today was about fun, and she was going to have as much as she could, whether she was with Nolan or not.
They walked through a few more exhibits, cowering playfully from the giant models of battling dinosaurs roaring thunderously through speakers, then picked out their favorite gemstones and minerals from the display case in the Earth section, and peeked into the windows of stores in the Streets of Old Wisconsin exhibit. Her good mood resurfaced from the sheer pleasure of being with him until he looked at his watch.
“I’m sorry, Candace.”
“Time’s up?”
He nodded regretfully. “For now. Let’s go.”
The parking garage seemed twice as unappealing on the way out as it had in, giant blowers roaring circulating air, low ceiling, concrete everywhere, all that was the same. But now she was leaving him, not going to meet him.
“Where’s your car?”
Candace pointed listlessly; they wove their way through rows of vehicles in silence until they reached her car. Even humping in the backseat in semipublic was preferable to separating. She had it bad.
“I had a great time.” Nolan kissed her sweetly. “We’ll hook up sometime again later on today, okay?”
“Yes, sure.” She started feeling that horrible vulnerability Michelle lived so often. Would he call? Was she being given a signal that all wasn’t well in his feelings?
She turned firmly, opened her door and got into the car, hearing his footsteps hurrying away. This was ridiculous; she was not going to let this man turn her as crazy as her sister. No way. She slammed the door shut, shoved her key in, turned, and noticed an envelope under her windshield wiper. What the— She glanced around, surprised when the envelope didn’t appear to be on any other windshield. Was it the same type that had fallen out of her paper that morning?
She jumped out of the car, grabbed it and ripped it open. Inside was a piece of paper and what looked like a special key.
‘Feel like a romantic lunch at Coquette Café? I have a reservation at noon. Take this key and open locker B-7 in the museum before you go. See you there.
Nolan.’
Candace’s cranky forehead smoothed; her lips relaxed, then curved into a smile; warmth bloomed through her. Ohhhhh, wow.
She let herself fall back against the car like a lovesick fool, clutching the paper to her chest, grinning foolishly at the ugly concrete ceiling. He must have watched for her arrival and slipped the note on her car before he went into the museum to meet her. He was sooo good.
Except—she glanced frantically at her watch—she’d need to rush home and change. Coquette Café wasn’t stuffy, but it was fancy enough that she’d feel uncomfortable in casual shorts. Only, damn, she hadn’t brought anything nice to Quinley. Hardly any of Michelle’s tiny-boobed, thin-hipped funky stuff would fit her—literally or figuratively. As soon as she retrieved the treasure the key promised, she’d have to run by the Grand Avenue Mall on her way to the restaurant and pray she found something appropriate in ten minutes or less.
She locked the car and hurried back into the museum, got directions to the lockers at the information desk. A small alcove off the main entrance hall…found it…B-7…B-7…there. The key went in, turned. The door opened.
A shopping bag from Boston Store. She pulled it down, hardly daring to breathe, and looked inside. Tissue paper. And a note.
‘Michelle helped with this. She said you wouldn’t be comfortable dressed casually at Coquette Café. She also said you wouldn’t be caught dead in any of her clothes. Hope you like it. Nolan’
Candace pawed through the tissue paper, then gasped. He bought her a dress?
Yes. Royal blue with a subtle floral pattern, simple lines, scoop-neck, no sleeves. Not too fancy for the casual sandals she was wearing, but dressy enough for the restaurant.
Wow. In most cases she would not have been comfortable with a man she barely knew buying her clothes, but Nolan—and Michelle—had saved her a mad dash through stores, or worse, feeling frumpy and self-conscious at the white-tablecloth bistro in shorts. She leaned against the lockers, dress held up to her shoulders, shaking her head helplessly. He was one in a million. Why did she have to meet him as soon as she was about to move away?
Because life was often like that—random, unfair, frustrating. She should have accepted that by now. There was plenty of bright side. Namely that the day wasn’t even half over, a handsome escort waited for her at one of her favorite Quinley restaurants, and she’d rekindled her passion for photography, a joy that would last the rest of her life now that she understood better what it meant to her. So. No whining.
In the museum bathroom she stepped eagerly out of her shorts and threw off her top, pulled on the dress whose woven material felt soft and forgiving on her body. Hoping she wasn’t guilty of pantylines, she exited the stall and tiptoed anxiously toward the mirror over the sink.
No worries. The neckline suited her; the jewel color flattered her skin even under horrid fluorescent lighting; her favorite silver twist earrings complemented the style; excitement brightened her eyes and flushed her cheeks.