"No. "
"Yes," Logan corrected. "But it's okay. You up to watching Stella's boys tonight?"
"I haven't said - "
"Absolutely. It'll be fun. You two going out?"
"A little dinner. I'll leave the invoice on your desk," he said to Stella. "See you at seven. "
Tired of standing, Stella sat on the stool and scowled at Roz when Logan sauntered out. "You didn't help. "
"I think I did. " Reaching up, she turned one of the baskets to check the symmetry of the plants. "You'll go out, have a good time. Your boys'll be fine, and I'll enjoy spending some time with them. If you didn't want to go out with Logan, you wouldn't go. You know how to say no loud enough. "
"That may be true, but I might've liked a little more notice. A little more . . . something. "
"He is what he is. " She patted Stella's knee. "And the good thing about that is you don't have to wonder what he's hiding, or what kind of show he's putting on. He's . . . I can't say he's a nice man, because he can be incredibly difficult. But he's an honest one. Take it from me, there's a lot to be said for that. "
Chapter Eleven
This, Stella thought, was why dating was very rarely worth it. In her underwear, she stood in front of her closet, debating, considering, despairing over what to wear.
She didn't even know where she was going. She hated not knowing where she was going. How was she supposed to know what to prepare for?
"Dinner" was not enough information. Was it little-black-dress dinner, or dressy-casual on-sale-designer-suit dinner? Was it jeans and a shirt and jacket dinner, or jeans and a silk blouse dinner?
Added to that, by picking her up at seven, he'd barely left her enough time to change, much less decide what to change into.
Dating. How could something that had been so desired, so exciting and so damn much fun in her teens, so easy and natural in her early twenties, have become such a complicated, often irritating chore in her thirties?
It wasn't just that marriage had spoiled her, or rusted her dating tools. Adult dating was complex and exhausting because the people involved in the stupid date had almost certainly been through at least one serious relationship, and breakup, and carried that extra baggage on their backs. They were already set in their ways, had defined their expectations, and had performed this societal dating ritual so often that they really just wanted to cut to the chase - or go home and watch Letterman.
Add to that a man who dropped the date on your head out of the clear blue, then didn't have the sense to give you some guidelines so you knew how to present yourself, and it was just a complete mess before it started.
Fine, then. Fine. He'd just get what he got.
She was stepping into the little black dress when the connecting bathroom door burst open and Gavin rushed in. "Mom! I finished my homework. Luke didn't, but I did. Can I go down now? Can I?"
She was glad she'd decided on the open-toed slides and no hose, as Parker was currently trying to climb up her leg. "Did you forget something?" she asked Gavin.
"Nuh-uh. I did all the vocabulary words. "
"The knocking something?"
"Oh. " He smiled, big and innocent. "You look pretty. "
"Smooth talker. " She bent down to kiss the top of his head. "But when a door's closed, you knock. "
"Okay. Can I go down now?"
"In a minute. " She walked over to her dresser to put on the silver hoops she'd laid out. "I want you to promise you'll be good for Miss Roz. "
"We're going to have cheeseburgers and play video games. She says she can take us in Smackdown, but I don't think so. "
"No fighting with your brother. " Hope springs, she thought. "Consider this your night off from your mission in life. "
"Can I go-down?"
"Get. " She gave him a light slap on the rump. "Remember, I'll have my phone if you need me. "