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Dawson waggled his hand. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But, just…”
“Just what?”
He knew he had to say something. From the second she’d opened that first door this morning he could sense the excitement emanating from her. He could almost reach out and feel the joy.
“Just be careful,” he said cautiously. “We don’t know yet about the third clue—or how many more come after that. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
Her face fell a little, and he could have kicked himself. She ran her hand along the leaves of a bunch of plants next to her. “I can’t unsee this,” she whispered. “It’s the dream. And if I can only have it for five minutes, then that’s fine. I have these five minutes.”
Dawson put his hand on her shoulder. He walked out and left her, joining Mr. McNally in the car and engaging in some small talk.
Piper came out a few minutes later, sliding the door closed behind her and hearing the sound of the automatic lock. She climbed into the car, looking completely serious. “I’ll get the list of recommendations to you all later this afternoon, along with a few reliable companies to consider.”
Mr. McNally smiled; his eyes heavy. “I’m grateful.”
Piper folded her arms and stared out of the car on the journey back. Dawson could tell she was lost in a myriad of thoughts. He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to tell her she’d get her dream. But how could he say that for sure—when the clues seemed to be so random?
He gave himself a shake. They still didn’t really know each other, and this time a few weeks ago, if someone had said Piper’s name to him, he’d likely have rolled his eyes.
But now, that was the last thing he’d do. Now, he’d do his level best to help her get her dream. And he wasn’t ready to ask himself why.
Chapter Eight
Piper kept hereyes on the door of the restaurant, trying not to keep looking at her watch.
Dawson came through the door with a huge burst of energy, running his hands through his hair as he scanned the room for her. She could see the relief in his eyes as he spotted her, and he moved in long strides toward her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“It’s work,” she said simply.
“The guy I was interviewing was such a fountain of knowledge. I didn’t want to cut him off. I know they won’t be able to use all the footage, but I just wanted to give this man the time and energy he deserved.”
Piper smiled and lifted the glass of wine she’d already ordered, taking a sip. Dawson had let her know he was doing a series of interviews with older sports figures, some of whom held records in their sport, but had faded from the spotlight. He was clearly getting a buzz out of meeting all his childhood heroes and it was nice to see him so happy.
He nodded at her glass. “Do you recommend it?”
“Sure, it’s nice.” She looked around her at the restaurant that was Christmas themed, with a festive menu. “What made you pick this place?”
“Ah.” He winked. “So, they do a really delicious British Christmas dinner here. I wanted us to try it.”
“Is that any different from a US Christmas dinner?”
“Turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, chipolatas wrapped in bacon, mashed potato, roast potato, carrot, turnip, Brussel sprouts, peas, and lots of gravy.”
“It sounds almost identical. Can you move after you eat that?”
“The chipolatas wrapped in bacon are the ace card. They call them pigs in blankets.”
Piper grimaced. “Not sure you’re selling them.”
“The smell and the taste will, I promise.” He waved over to one of the waitresses who came over and took their order.
Piper hadn’t minded waiting too much. It had given her more time to think about the clue. “Did you work anything out?” she asked.
He pulled a list from his pocket. “I don’t think the astronaut idea is working. Is it the sixteenth astronaut who trained, the sixteenth astronaut who made it into space, the sixteenth astronaut to circle the earth? There just seems a lot of variables, which makes me think I’m looking in the wrong direction.”
Piper nodded. “I’ve been looking for French impressionists. So far, I have fifty-five. Then, I need to look at all their individual paintings.”
