“Mike?” Karen repeated in confusion. “Who’s Mike?”
“You know. Mike Clancy. The guy from the restaurant?”
“The gorgeous blond?” Karen asked with a gasp.
“Um, yeah. I guess.”
“When did that happen?”
“He asked me yesterday.” As for the details, she had no intention of sharing those, even with Karen.
“Wow. You’ve got quite a social life going this week, don’t you?”
It was a sad commentary on Catherine’s usual routines that two dates would count to Karen as a thriving “social life.” Catherine managed a weak laugh. “I guess so.”
“Wow,” Karen said again. “Mike is really good-looking. That should be an interesting evening.”
Interesting. The same wor
d Catherine herself had used the night before. And not necessarily a good thing.
“So, anyway, do you think Bill will ask you out again?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He said he would.”
“That would be great. You and Bill have so much in common. You’d make a wonderful couple.” Implying, of course, that it was less likely that she and Mike were destined to be together.
“You know, Karen, I have several papers to read before Mike arrives this evening…”
“Oh. Okay, sorry. Have fun tonight, and I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Monday.” Maybe by then she would be better prepared to deal with her well-meaning but inquisitive friend.
Mike was running behind, but only by twenty minutes, so he wasn’t too worried about it. He had gotten tied up with a repair project in the complex, and then an old baseball buddy had called and time, as it so often did, had somehow slipped away from him.
Remembering how pleased she had seemed the last time, he almost brought flowers again. But that would have made him even later, and besides, he didn’t like to repeat himself.
His steps were quick with anticipation as he approached her apartment. No backpack this time, he thought in satisfaction. The only biology they would be studying tonight was their own.
Who would have thought quiet, serious, brainy Dr. Catherine Travis would turn him into six feet of quivering jelly with only a kiss? And yet somehow he had known from the first time he’d met her that there was more to her than she let people see.
He stopped at her door, running his hands down the front of his khaki slacks as if to dry palms damp with nerves. Three days before the end of October, the air was just a little chilly, so he’d worn a thin brown-and-buff patterned sweater over a khaki-colored T-shirt. Hardly an expensive tailored suit, like the one Dr. Bill had worn the other night, but he thought he looked pretty good.
Picturing the way Catherine had looked in her sleek red dress, he gulped, wondering if pretty good was adequate tonight. They hadn’t discussed plans for the evening. What if she was expecting a fancy outing at a jacket-and-tie place where he would have to pay for dinner on the credit-card installment plan?
It wasn’t like him to be so uncertain at the beginning of a date. Shaking his head in impatience, he tapped on Catherine’s door.
She opened it immediately, and he was relieved to see that, while she looked very nice, she had dressed no more formally than he had. She wore a forest-green sweater with a vee neckline and three-quarter-length cuffed sleeves, tan slacks and heeled brown leather boots that added another couple of inches to her five-foot-seven frame. Gold hoops dangled from her ears, drawing his gaze to her earlobes and making him wonder if she liked having them nibbled.
Whoa, buddy. A little too early for that line of thought, he chided himself.
“You look great,” he said.
Her smile looked a little strained around the edges. “I thought maybe something had gone wrong.”
“Why would you?”
She shook her head. “I guess you were just running late again?”