Long Slow Burn

Of course, it could be from anyone.

She rushed to peer at the screen. It was from Quinn. A simple response, straight to the point.

Answering both questions: Absolutely not.

4

BLIND DATES WERE THE devil’s work. There was no other explanation. Torture of this magnitude should be prohibited by the Geneva Convention. Kim checked her watch for the fourth time, standing just inside the entrance to Coast, an elegant bar and restaurant on the shore of Lake Michigan. To her left, the dramatic, white “wings” of the Milwaukee Art Museum expansion rose into the blue sky, appearing to pierce a pair of clouds hanging overhead.

So far Troy was two minutes late. Which wouldn’t be bad except that she’d gotten here five minutes early. Seven minutes standing here imagining how horribly the evening could go. How awkward it could be. How disappointed he might be in her.

Kim let out a sound of disgust. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t usually glass-half-empty like this. But if Troy was half as gorgeous and successful and wonderful and kind as everyone said, she was afraid he’d show up having walked across the lake. Kim wanted someone as flawed and shy and regular as herself. Like Dale, who wasn’t classically handsome, but had such warm eyes on screen. They’d been emailing back and forth since she first got up the nerve to write to him a couple days after she’d seen his picture in Marie’s office. For someone on vacation he sure spent a lot of time online. Whenever she wrote, she heard back within an hour, morning, afternoon or night.

She loved writing to him. Shyness didn’t matter when you had all the time you wanted to compose sentences, to find interesting and witty ways to express yourself. Kim could take all night if she felt like it, get up and pace and think until every thought, every word was just the way she wanted. In short order she and Dale had gone from where-did-you-grow-up and what’s-your-favorite-movie to how-are-you-feeling and what-do-you-believe-in?

His answer still sang in her head. I believe in God, in country, in dancing until dawn and in loving a woman until the last breath leaves my body.

Kim had nearly melted onto her keyboard.

She moved aside for another couple entering the restaurant, and checked her watch again. Four minutes late. Come on, Troy. She wanted this first-meeting misery over with. His emails had been shorter than Dale’s, and businesslike. He’d wanted to meet her right away, not waste time chatting online, where so much could be imagined or misunderstood. He was smart. But it meant their initial face-to-face would be so much more awkward. When she finally met Dale she’d feel she already knew him.

“Kim?”

Kim spun around. Oh, my Lord. Troy. As gorgeous as he was online. No, more so, because his dark eyes were alive and therefore twice as vivid. He was tall. She knew that, but six foot four didn’t register as dramatically on screen as it did in the flesh.

“Troy. Hi.”

“Hey, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, warm, dry and strong. Hers was cold, damp and trembling. “I was waiting inside at a table, then realized we hadn’t mentioned where we’d meet so I came looking for you.”

“Oh.” She laughed stupidly, too rattled to do more than glance at his face and away. His presence was overpowering. “I should have checked.”

“Not a problem. I found you. Let’s go sit.” His easy grin made her want to run the other way. He was obviously not finding this nerve-racking at all. Some people had no idea how lucky they were to be born without the shyness gene. The simplest things were so difficult for her. Like meeting a perfectly nice man and talking to him.

She walked next to him through the light, airy space to a table by the window facing the lake, already sure this wasn’t a man she could have a relationship with. Still, if she got through the date with self-esteem intact, that would be something to celebrate. The next dates would be easier, most notably the one with Dale on Monday. That one really mattered.

Wait, so maybe it wouldn’t be easier. Why was she doing this again?

They sat, Troy waiting until her butt hit the chair before he took his seat. So he was a gentleman as well as perfect.

He folded his hands on the table. “I think we know someone in common besides Justin and Candy.”

“We do?” She put her purse down and braced herself to spend the next hour having to look at him.

“My neighbor Steve was in your brother’s class at Marquette High. I graduated before he got there, but I used to see Kent hanging around next door.”

“Oh. Yes. I know Steve.” She nodded politely. Steve was a chauvinist jerk. He’d always had this weird hold over Kent that she didn’t understand.

Troy quirked a dark brow, eyes dancing. “Not one of your favorites?”

“Um.” She couldn’t help smiling. “Not exactly.”

“My sister isn’t wild about him, either. Maybe he wears better on guys.”

“Probably.”

A tall, slender and unfairly gorgeous waitress came over, smiling directly at Troy. “What can I get you?”

“Kim?” He gestured to her. “What’ll you have?”

“Oh, um, a beer?”

The waitress rattled off a list of brews and waited expectantly.

Kim grabbed the last name. “I’ll have a Spotted Cow.”

“And you, sir?”

“That sounds good to me, too.”

“I’ll have those right out.” She shot a killer smile at Troy and swept away.

Awkward silence. C’mon, Kim, think of something….

“Well.” Troy adjusted himself in the seat. “What were we talking about?”

“Oh …” Kim hadn’t the faintest idea, because her brains had turned to scrambled eggs. Guys like Troy had intimidated her since adolescence, when she’d been victimized by the “popular crowd” he undoubtedly belonged to. Though it was unfair to put him in a fifteen-year-old box.

“So … what’s Kent up to these days? He’s in New York, right?”

“No, he’s back.” She had to look away, gazing at the restaurant’s deck where patrons could sit in warmer weather, and out at the lake beyond, then steel herself to meet Troy’s midnight eyes again. “He got laid off last fall and came home to Milwaukee.”

“Damn. Has he found a job yet?”

“A couple of months ago, with M&I Bank.”

“Good for him.”

“He was happy.” She smirked. “So were my parents. He was living with them for a while.”

Troy laughed. “Tell him I said hello.”

“I will.” She looked down at the table, hating the silence, worrying about what to say next. “He plays basketball. Do you?”

“I do.” By some miracle Troy looked really interested. “Does he have a game going?”

“Yes.” Kim perked up, encouraged by his reaction. “Sunday afternoons. They’re looking for more people. Do you want his number?”

“I’d love it.” He dug out his cell. “Go ahead.”