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The man who kissed me like he’d pictured it a thousand times. The man who moved to town to take care of his grandparents’ affairs. The man who put me up in a nice condo without a second thought. The man who’s been working in my apartment every day for weeks.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Men like Desmond Thomas—most men, really—can’t be relied on. I learned that with Colin. Unless I want to open myself up to be let down and abandoned again, I’m better off on my own.
“Thank you for the assistance,” I tell him archly, letting Bailey duck in under my arm. Then I give my landlord a curt nod, and I close the door.
The next timeI see Desmond is even more embarrassing than the last. It’s a little over a week later, and I’ve been working myself to the bone taking extra clients, offering discounts and running promotions to drum up more business at the barbershop. Trina has been a huge help with Bailey, babysitting after school and helping with pick-ups and drop-offs. She says she’s going to the school to pick up her own kids, but I know she’s doing it to give me more time to work. I gave Georgia the green light to tell the rest of the ladies about my date, but I haven’t had time to sit down with anyone myself. They’ve all managed to drop by the barbershop, though, bringing me coffees and goodies and gossip.
It’s nice having friends. A part of me wonders how long they’ll stick around, though, when I have so little time to give. People always leave, after all. It’s easier to deal with the aftermath when you know it’s coming.
Today, with only a couple of days until Halloween and two hours free in my schedule, I finally managed to spend some time attaching the straps to the back of the prototype cardboard electrical outlet the way Bailey wanted. I can already see some improvements to make with her version, which we’ve sketched out on another large panel of cardboard.
Not only that, I went to the dollar store to find metallic paint and also snagged a bright-red curly wig. Wanting to surprise my daughter with my finds, I end up painting my face with silver paint and shoving the wig on my head. Dressed like a cross between the Tin Man and Ronald McDonald, I wait until Trina buzzes the front door to strap the cardboard electrical outlet on my front, giggling the whole while.
Bailey is going tolovethis. It’s so good. I can’t wait to see the look on her face.
I’m giddy, laughing, and practically jumping up and down when I finally hear a knock on the door. Pulling it open, I spread my arms and say, “Ta-da!”
Desmond stares back, blinking. Shock flits across his face, followed by amusement.
The metallic paint hides my blush, which is a small mercy. Microscopic, really. I clear my throat. “Um.”
“I was just letting you know that I’ve finished the work on your apartment. You can move back anytime.” His lips tremble as his gaze coasts over the costume. “I love the outfit. You got another bite on Blind Date?”
Now he’s mocking me. Wonderful. I put my hand on my hip behind the big cardboard rectangle strapped to the front of my body. “So what if I did?”
Des’s eyes narrow, laughter disappearing from his gaze. “Do you? Have another date?”
“If I did, it would be none of your business.” It’s hard to be prim when you’re dressed like an electrical outlet, but I just about manage.
“MOM!” Bailey comes running, crashes into Desmond’s side, then touches the front of the cardboard box strapped to my body with reverent hands. “YOU DID IT!”
I laugh, awkwardly hugging my kid around the cardboard. “I did. You like it?”
“IT’S AWESOME! I want to go see the face paint. Is it in the bathroom? Where’s mine? Can we finish it tonight? THE HAIR!” Bailey starts cackling, clutching her stomach. “Des, do you like it?”
“Very much. Is this your costume?”
“Yeah. My friend Vicky is dressing up like a skateboard, but mine is better. Right?”
“Uh-huh.” Des grins, gaze coasting over me, amusement lighting his eyes. I stand there, with my silver face and my cardboard clothes, feeling like a buffoon. Des turns his smiling face to Bailey. “One year, I dressed up like a bunch of grapes.”
My daughter’s face brightens. “Really? How?”
“Purple balloons taped to my body and a green top hat for the stem.”
“Oh, man,” Bailey says. “I wish I thought of that.”
“I’ll show you a picture if I can find it. You could be grapes next year.”
“Can I?” Bailey spins toward me.
“Sure.” I shimmy out of the cardboard and tear the wig off, so now I’m just a Tin Man wearing athleisure. Des’s gaze lingers on my body, and I try to ignore the way everything inside me tightens in response.
“It’s a pretty awesome costume,” Trina admits, grinning. Then her smile drops as she looks at the man standing across from me. “Desmond,” she greets him, frost crackling in her words.
“Katrina,” he answers neutrally. His gaze slides back to mine. “Let me know when you’re moving back into the apartment. I’ll get cleaners organized for this place once you’re out.”
“Of course.” I give him a curt nod, then watch him disappear behind his door.
