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“Oh, my God.” Abigail closed the cabinet without having taken anything down, eyes wide with excitement. “This guy is one of the fabled few.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A guy who has a clue. Seriously, Candy. He figured out that much about you? It took me years. And for a little comparison, Ron and I had four dates before he stopped talking about himself long enough to notice I was sitting across from him the whole time. Even now, though I really have grown to love him, and I think he’ll be a great dad, even now, he doesn’t have what it takes to make the kind of observation this guy made on your first meeting.”
“Second
meeting.”
Abigail folded her arms. “You are a moron.”
“Don’t hold back.”
“I’m serious. If you become as determined not to see this guy for what he is as you were determined not to see Chuck…”
Candy found herself trembling, furious and oddly frightened. “I was the only one who knew Chuck.”
“Because he barely let you leave the house so the rest of us could get to know him, too.”
“That’s ridiculous. You can’t blame that all on him.”
“I don’t. Only half. The rest goes on you.”
“Abigail.” She gasped out her friend’s name. “I can’t believe you—”
“I have good instincts. And my instincts are telling me that this Justin guy is into you big-time, and not because you’ve been dressing as Sexy Glamour Girl.” She came forward and gripped Candy’s arm hard, but her features had gentled.
“Don’t you see, honey? If you turn your back on Justin now, you’re also turning your back on yourself.”
Candy sat opposite Sam, smiling pure, attentive happiness while inside her stomach felt as if it was trying to form itself into a pretzel. He was such a nice man. Good-looking, in shape, intelligent, opinionated without being obnoxious about it, curious about the world, a reader, a traveler…
But her heart hadn’t done a triple flip when she met him in the foyer of the Firefly Café. Not even a gentle somersault.
Only a feeling of warmth, like when a good friend walked into a room unexpectedly. Even after a couple of glasses of wine, which could do wonders to expand friendship into attraction, she wasn’t able to summon any tingles for him.
“Have you been to Cempazuchi?”
It was all she could do not to jump. “Yes. Once. The food was very good.”
“I haven’t been. We should go there next time.”
“Mmm.” She smiled, experiencing a jolt of irritation that he’d take her wanting a third date for granted. And yet, why wouldn’t she?
The answer came easily. Because she could envision a line of pleasant evenings stringing out as far as the eye could see, and nothing about it made her jump up and down. His type would be happy to strand her, staying home every night, the way Chuck—
She picked up her glass and took a huge swallow. Since when had the life she had with Chuck seemed anything but idyllic?
Oh, God, what if Abigail and Marie and her brothers and pretty much everyone else she knew who had also known Chuck were right?
A harsh woman’s voice sounded from a tiny room off the main bar behind her. Candy had been in there once with Chuck—she’d brought him here for a drink on his birthday one December. There was a fireplace and banquettes lined either side of the narrow space, with four tiny tables for couples who wanted the snug feeling of a private room.
This woman sounded angry. And loud. She was cussing out someone who wasn’t answering back.
“Whoa, what’s going on in there?” Sam craned his long neck. “Sounds like someone had too many drinks.”
“Whaddya mean you won’t sleep with me?”
Candy cringed. “Charming.”
“I won’t take no for an answer. You are much too cute.”
Shushing sounds were heard, then a low male voice.
“I don’t care if we just met. Or that you’re dating someone else.”
“Uh-oh.” Sam let out a nervous chuckle and adjusted his glasses. “This doesn’t sound good.”
“One night. Tha’s all I want. C’mon. Once you’ve had me you’ll never go back.
