What a Girl Wants (24 page)
Dianna rolls her eyes. She gambled on Seth and lost Jeff ’s attention in the process. Bad bet. Now she’s got no one to flirt with.
“She’s in there.” Dianna tosses her hand and doesn’t bother to escort Seth or actually do her job and announce him. The whole process inflames me. Is there an office anywhere that is not at the mercy of an administrative assistant’s constant need for attention? Because if there is, sign me up to work there.
“Hi.” Seth leans against the doorjamb and my stomach twists at the sight of him. Dr. Kevin Novak is so incredible looking and Seth is bald and dresses like an engineer. Did I miss some survival-of-the-fittest gene or something?
“Hi.” I just stand there gaping like he’s about to perform. It’s intimate, having him in my office.
“Your baby’s back.”
“Uh huh.”
He is
.
“I left it in the lot by your window.”
“Right.” I shake my head out of its fog. “Sorry, too much sugar this morning.” I look out Purvi’s window. There’s my gray convertible, shiny and sparkling in the morning sunlight. “It looks cleaner than I left it.”
“I washed it this morning. It was such a perfect day and I find it’s therapeutic.”
“What can I do to make up for all you’ve done for me?”
“Why can’t you just accept it, Ash? I’m your friend. I don’t want anything more than that.”
His words stab my heart. No, he doesn’t want any more than that, and that’s the Great Problem, isn’t it? Those haunting words no one ever wants to hear.
I think we’re better as friends
. But I’m supposed to be excited about this perfect doctor I’m seeing. What is wrong with me?
Seth doesn’t think of me
that way
. He never will. And it’s time for my heart to move on. Staring at those gemstone eyes of his, their warmth and depth of caring within, I have to wonder if I will ever truly move on. Somewhere along the line, I gave my heart to Seth. Even though he never did anything more than push it back toward me.
“Have you got my keys?” I ask. He hands them over and I admit that just for a moment, I’m tempted to kiss him. Right here in my office. A good-bye kiss, if you will. Before I know it, my lips are touching his cheek. “Thank you, Seth,” I whisper into his ear.
His eyes are round and he’s blinking excessively. Dianna is staring at me, like
I’m
the loose one, and I can see Mailman Bailey’s mind churning as though maybe I am finally doing the wild thang. I feel great that I’ve surprised everyone; I stand taller. Maybe now they’ll take notice and wonder what kind of heart beats inside this prim and proper young lawyer. Perhaps I have secrets.
I pull away and smooth my suit. “Let’s get you to work.”
“It’s all right.” Seth puts up a palm. “I’m right up the street. I can sprint.”
Oddly enough I’m okay with the fact that I’ve scared the man to death. I made my move. I know it’s officially over now, and maybe I can move on. Maybe the reason I’ve been stuck in this rut so long is that I believed something would happen between Seth and me. Deep in the recesses of my heart, I never let go of that dream. And today, I did. Progress! Watching him walk away is a bit like watching a rat’s tail in my apartment. He’s more afraid of me than I am of him.
I
found the cutest dress at Ann Taylor at lunch. It’s ’50s-looking, very retro, and black with a fitted waist and Wilma Flintstone skirt. When I slip on my sunglasses with it, I feel I’m Audrey Hepburn reborn—albeit a little wider. But alas, my date is at night, so I’ll have no use for my rockin’ sunglasses, and since Kevin is driving, I don’t even have to plan on getting out of my car with casual grace. I still need work in this poise arena, though, as seen by my coffee house incident this morning.
I even bought myself a new lipstick: a testimony to the fact that I have left Seth in my past where he belongs and Kevin is worthy of a new color. I’m having Kevin pick me up at work, since I have no idea where I’m living tonight and that makes me sound frightfully flaky. I tried to call Kay and extend my invitation in her Sears’ bedroom display, but she isn’t home or in her office, so I’m taking that as a sign—kind of like when you see a skull and cross-bones at the door.
Brea said I was welcome, and most likely that’s where I’ll end up because we’ll want to gossip about the date anyway. Alas, John will become annoyed with our incessant giggling and go up to bed early. I am going to find a place tomorrow if it kills me. I know some might say I have a priority issue, what with the dress coming before the apartment search, but it’s food, clothing, and shelter—in that order. Correct me if I’m wrong, but shelter comes last. I think my basic instincts are right on track.
Brea flaked on me with regards to shopping again and I had only the cursed three-way mirror to answer the eternal question: Does my bum look big in this dress? When at the store, I just happened to remember that I still have a few items at the dry cleaners, so in addition to my single suitcase for Taiwan, I have another three outfits before life becomes critical.
It’s seven o’clock in the evening, and I’m beginning to pace inside my office. To my chagrin, tonight is Dianna’s late night. Since I’ve never really seen her work during the day, I’m curious what she does on late night, but it’s probably just a reason for her to come in at ten in the morning.
“You don’t have to hang around, you know. I can handle things here,” Dianna says.
Looking around at all the tired husbands working late, I’m sure she can handle things here, but isn’t that the reason not to let her? “Why don’t you just go home, Dianna?”
“Because I’m here to answer the phone—in case Taiwan calls.”
Ah, so she does have a purpose
. “I’m waiting for my date.” I square my shoulders, showing off my gorgeous new black dress.
“With that guy you cornered in the office today? He looked scared out of his wits!” She snickers, and I just feel my fist instinctively clench. Catfight! I breathe in a deep cleansing breath. I am a Christian. I turn the other cheek. “No, actually it’s with a surgeon I’ve met at Stanford.”
Meow!
“Go easy on the poor boy, will ya?”
With everything in my being, I want to tell her she’s the last person I’d take advice on men from, but I just smile. It’s enough that I make three times what she does and have the vocabulary to date a doctor. If only it was easier to fire secretaries here, I lament. Sadly, Dianna could get me fired faster . . .
I get this little prick of guilt and God speaks to me about Dianna’s life and how hard everything is. Yes, she makes life that way, but don’t we all in a way? He’d want me to look for some good in her, beneath the cheesy outfit and heavy makeup and desperate attempts to make herself feel desirable.
“Maybe you’re right. I should go easy,” I say with a smile. A real smile this time, not my fake catty one.
Security buzzes my office to tell me a Doctor Kevin Novak is here for me. I’m nervous, but not as nervous as I was when Seth came sauntering in unannounced this morning. I have to remind myself there’s no history with Kevin. If there’s going to be, it will have to be created.
Checking my reflection in my compact, I smile to make sure there’s no lipstick on my teeth and head for the front door. “Good night, Dianna. I hope you don’t have to stay too late.”
She winks at me. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I’m doubting the possibility. But I like this new feeling of peace between us. Dianna is not someone you want to be enemies with in this lifetime. Admins have way too much power. “See you in the morning, Dianna.”
Kevin is waiting at the door with his hands clasped. He looks like the guys on
The Bachelorette
waiting for a rose. My heart gives a little flip. He’s just too good-looking for words. But he’s the kind of good-looking where you wonder are people thinking,
What’s he
doing with her?
He’s in a suit. Not a shirt with a tie, but an actual navy, double-breasted, be-still-my-heart suit.
“Ashley, you look beautiful. Is that a new dress?”
I give a little twirl and nod. “Thank you. So do you. Gorgeous, I mean. Not beautiful.”
He opens the glass door for me and waiting beside the curb is a black Porsche Boxter. He opens the door to the sports car and picks up a bouquet of pink roses and holds them out toward me. I look around. Isn’t this the end of
Flashdance
? I break into song about what I’m feeling, but Kevin doesn’t get it, so I snap my mouth shut and focus on the car.
“Thank you,” I say flirtatiously, taking the flowers from him. “What’s going on? Where’s your real car?”
He starts laughing. “This is my real car. I always wanted a Porsche. Call me shallow, but I bought it when I started my residency, even though I could barely afford my apartment. Credit is a good thing.”
“No, where’s the car with the rope on the trunk?”
Now he’s really laughing. “That’s not my car.”
“You know, I snagged a perfectly good pair of slacks in that car. Do you care to tell me about the Porsche? Explain yourself, perhaps?”
“A bunch of us interns own that car and pay the registration on it. We have a pact to use it for all first dates. Are you going to get in? My arm is getting tired.”
“You let me drive around in the city in that heap for nothing?”
He presses a palm to his chest. “You’re calling my other car a heap? I’m crushed.”
“You know, that car doesn’t say about you what you want it to. It doesn’t say,
I’m poverty-stricken, will you love me anyway?
It says,
I have no self-respect and I spend my money poorly.
It makes a woman worry she’s going to be supporting you.”
“Is that right?” He steps closer to me and puts his arms around me while handing off the flowers. His charming sideways smile appears. “And would you support me, Ashley Stockingdale?”
I pull away. “Not on your life. Are we going to dinner or what?”
He steps back and helps me into the car. “Dinner, a proper dinner.”
“We’re not going to the hospital cafeteria, are we? Because if there are any more tests, count me out. The bar was the last thing I studied for.” I try to find a place to put the huge bouquet, but Porsche Boxters aren’t made for storage.
He slips into the driver’s seat and revs up the powerful engine. It’s funny. I love cars, but I have anxiety over a man who loves cars. In my mind, warped as it is, a woman who likes cars is confident, cool, bold. But a guy? A sports car tells me he’s insecure, out to prove something. Besides, the Boxter is a girl Porsche: the cute, affordable Porsche. A guy should drive a Carrera. But I shake the thought. This is my new life. Men behave differently in my fresh blossoming world. He’s not an engineer. He won’t drive this car until it dies a sad, fiery death on I-280.
“No more tests, I promise.” Kevin puts the car into first gear, and we’re off. “You shouldn’t be nervous. You passed with flying colors.”
“You don’t really know that. With all my computer expertise on patents, I could have looked up the registration on the car and known it was a test. I might have checked your bank account, or had a private eye follow you. You’ll never really know if I passed. You’re still a Stanford doctor.”
“You’re a difficult one, you know that?”
I smile at the description. “Of course I know that. It’s part of my charm.”
We speed along the back streets until we’re in the middle of wealthy downtown Palo Alto. Although it’s a weeknight, the restaurants are packed with patrons who have more money than cooking expertise. We pull up in front of a tiny exclusive type of restaurant and Kevin pays the valet to take his Porsche.
The weather is chilly and I wrap my new Angora shawl around my shoulders a bit tighter. Kevin sees me shiver, puts his arm around me, and hustles me into L’aime Donia, a little French bistro that appears to be all the rage.
Sage green and warm yellow walls complete with hand-painted landscapes provide a calming atmosphere. But I don’t feel comfortable here. It’s not that I can’t hold my own in a nice restaurant, but it all seems so wasteful to me. As we’re seated, the wine list is extensive and expensive.
New life. New life,
I remind myself.
“What kind of wine do you prefer?” Kevin asks.
“None, actually. I don’t drink very often.”
“Good for you. They have this merlot here that is absolutely fantastic, but it doesn’t come by the glass.”
I fluff my linen napkin on my lap. “I still won’t drink any,” I say apologetically. “If my mother and brother aren’t here, I find very little use for alcohol.”
He laughs, his warm eyes creasing. “See, you just passed my second test: peer pressure. Remember, I told you I didn’t usually drink because of always being on call.”
I bristle at this. Am I actually being tested? I shake the uneasy feeling.
He orders a mineral water. And myself? A very classy Diet Coke. Once again, with a lemon twist of course; I’m not a total hick. I chance a direct question. “Is everything a test for you, Kevin?”
“I am in my residency. It just feels that way, I guess.”
“So what do you do now that you can’t make models of ships?”
Kevin pauses, thinking deeply about my question. After a long silence, he speaks. “Nothing. I don’t really do much of anything except work, sleep, eat, and visit with my parents when they come out.”
Staring at Kevin is suddenly like staring into a mirror. We’re two shallow people who drive sports cars and waste money on fancy food. This isn’t my new life. It can’t be. I wrap my angora around me a little tighter, but the expensive wrap brings me no warmth at the moment.
“Isn’t that the guy Arin was talking about?” Kevin asks. “It must have fizzled quickly.”
I look over into a corner table in the back and I nearly wretch at the sight of Seth Greenwood in a cozy booth with a redhead. Long, elegant red hair which she flips in regular intervals. I can’t breathe. Nor can I take my eyes off of him. He took this woman to a “proper” restaurant. There’s no ignorance. Seth knows dinner consists of more than Fresh Choice with a dollar-off coupon.
“Ashley?” Kevin says, and I force my eyes back to him, but I still can’t breathe. I’m blinking my tears away and swallowing past the lump in my throat. I’ll never star in
Flashdance’
s ending. I’ll be welding forever. My eyes keep glancing back at Seth’s table because I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Oh, Lord, change my heart. Toward
this gorgeous man across the table. Please.
