Chapter 5: Bethany
I walked along beside Kyle, feeling like I’d suddenly woken in a very weird dream. Of all the things I absolutely had not expected, bumping into him in the street would have been top of my list. What were the chances?
“You have a meeting now?” I asked.
“One thirty,” he said succinctly. It was one o’ clock now. I felt my heart patter in urgency.
“Hell. You’re sure you’ll have time?”
“The office is there,” he said, inclining his head up the street. “I’ll make it.”
We walked on. I couldn’t help being aware of his closeness, the feel of that muscled body right next to my own. The guy must live at the gym after hours, I thought, shivering at the thought. I wondered what his body looked like under that crisp white shirt. My cheeks flamed with delicious shame.
Bethany Hayworth! Stop it. I tried to stop the naughty grin that crossed my face.
“Whoops,” I said, as a particularly quick-paced guy in a business suit almost walked over me. Kyle reached out a hand to steady me.
I tensed and his hand dropped to his side as if he’d touched hot coals.
Again, I felt that strange annoyance. I wasn’t so scary, was I? I was offended by his reaction, and also a bit wistful as my arm tingled with the aftershock of his touch.
“Sorry,” he said, tight lipped. “Some of these guys need to learn manners. I…oh!”
We both stepped around a kid on rollerblades and as I looked up I noticed a wide expanse of graffiti on the boards around a construction site.
“Oh, look,” I said, pointing. “Just what we were talking about.”
I had the strange experience of seeing him look shocked. He stared at the boards with an expression that I couldn’t read. Then he shook himself, as if shaking off some bad dream.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Like our talk on Saturday, right?”
“Right.” I nodded, smiling. “Look, sorry if I was a bit…well…a bit much,” I added, feeling shy. “I’m very passionate about my art.”
He frowned at me. “Too much?” he said. “Where did you get that from?”
It was my turn to frown. “I don’t know,” I said. “Everywhere, really.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” I looked at my hands, embarrassed. “You know…guys think it’s weird when a girl goes on and on about some idea or other. I guess,” I added, shrugging confusedly.
“No,” he said. He was looking at me with a strange intensity, those gray eyes soft. I swallowed hard as the touch of them seemed to touch my soul.
“No?”
“You’re not weird,” he said gently. “I don’t know how you think that. I…uh, excuse me,” he added, as he looked around. We were close to the store now. “I got to run. Listen, you have a card or something?”
I frowned. My mouth was suddenly dry. “Here,” I said, reaching automatically into my handbag, finding the front zip-up compartment where my business cards were kept. I handed him one. He took it, looked at it with a smile, then grunted in satisfaction.
“Thanks,” he said. He slipped it into his jacket. “I’d better run.”
“Bye,” I said softly.
He nodded once, twice, and then ducked into the doorway.
I stood where I was.
What the hell just happened?
I didn’t move until a kid on roller-blades swerved around me, yelling in dismay. I nodded and stepped back, still too surprised to move. I shook myself.
“Come on, Miss Hayworth,” I told myself firmly. “Let’s go.”
I found my way back along the street, heading in the direction of the bus stop.
I arrived at Mom’s home in the suburbs in a dreamlike state. I drifted up the sidewalk and through the front door in a daze.
“Bethany? That you?”
“Yes, Mom,” I called out heading up the stairs to my room.
“When you come down, could you look at what I got for the party? I want to decide between two dresses—I’ll take the other one back. I just had to ask you.”
“Okay,” I called down cheerfully. “I’m coming right down.”
Mom worked mornings only at the office now. She was a coordinator for a big logistics company, but she’d taken on a less-demanding schedule now that she was sixty. It was nice to have her with more free time than when we were kids.
“I like the white one,” I said after she’d tried on both dresses.
“Mm. I also thought it was better,” she nodded, head on one side as she looked at herself in the mirror.
I frowned. “You’re going to wear the red jacket with it?”
“I think so,” she nodded. “Or the peach. Which is better?”
“The peach. The contrast with the white is just a bit lower,” I nodded.
“You never stop being a designer, do you?” She chuckled. She gave me a kiss on the head as she wandered over to the dressing table where her clothes were piled.
I smiled. “I guess not.”
We went through to the living room for tea.
“How was work?” I asked.
“Oh! It was okay—hectic, but not too hectic. I was talking to Camilla, and she was telling me that…”
As Mom talked about work and her colleagues, I listened absently. I was still thinking of Kyle. What the heck was all that about? I would not understand that guy, I told myself firmly, if I lived to be a hundred. Talk about mixed signals! There were weather stations in Texas that have an easier job predicting what’s coming next than I was with this guy.
“And then I…sorry, sweetie? You look sad.”
“Oh.” I shook my head, embarrassed that I’d missed a lot of what Mom had been saying. “Sorry, Mom. I was just distracted. What were you saying?”
“Just telling you about how we’re going to be cutting back on delivery times in winter,” she said. “It wasn’t important. You’re worried about something.”
“I’m not worried,” I said truthfully. “I was just trying to figure something out. Sorry,” I added, finishing my tea quickly. “I guess I should probably go get some work done.”
“Sure,” she said, shrugging. “I’m down here if you want to talk. Just doing my tax. I’ll be in the study.”
“Great,” I replied. I stretched and stood up, heading upstairs.
Upstairs, I sat down at the desk by the window, looking out over trees and rooftops. I had a sketch pad and started drawing some ideas. Oddly enough, after that talk with Kyle, I felt quite stimulated, and the ideas started to flow. I was deeply involved in the work when my phone made a noise.
I frowned. I looked at the time. It was five thirty, or thereabouts. I had been working for around three hours! I reached across.
And stared.
Hey, Bethany. This is Kyle. Thanks for the card.
I felt my heart thumping. Kyle Beckham had sent me a message? No way.
Cool, Bethany. Be cool. Nothing to stress about. I added the number as a contact, then stared at the phone, wondering what on Earth I could say back.
Hi, Kyle. I wrote. Nice to hear from you. Stay in touch.
I sent it with my cheeks burning. I had no idea whether that was a good thing to say or a bad thing. I felt so awkward. What was he going to think?
“Come on, Bethany. You’re thirty-two, not fifteen. Get working.”
I made myself put the phone in my handbag, pick up my pencil. As I tried to gather my shattered focus, my phone sounded.
“Oh!”
I reached for it quickly. Why would it be him? It’s probably just the phone company notifying you of something. I pulled it out quickly and stared at the screen.
You’re in town until the weekend?
I messaged back quickly.
Yes. Leaving on Sunday. Why?
I frowned. He was typing a reply already. I felt my heart thud as I waited for it.
Will you be around for lunch tomorrow?
No. What? Kyle was asking me for lunch? That was just so surreal. Maybe I was fifteen.
I messaged back at once. I don’t see why not. Where and when?
I regretted the formality of my reply the instant I’d sent it. But it was too late to change it. I sat there fretting while he wrote back.
At Waddington’s?
Sure. It was near where I’d met Rodney earlier today. Near where I’d walked into Kyle, in fact, so I could easily find my way there.
Sure. See you at twelve thirty?
The reply flashed back. Sure.
I wasn’t sure what to reply to that, so I didn’t reply anything. I sat looking at the screen with a confused frown on my face and my mind reeling.
What the heck just happened? I shook my head to clear it.
“Okay, Bethany,” I told myself firmly. “You just got asked to lunch by Kyle Beckham. Nothing to worry about.”
I let out a slow, steadying breath. I was nervous, I realized. I hadn’t been on a date for a while. And I had absolutely never been on a date with a guy I liked quite as much as I liked Kyle, let’s face it. I sighed.
I went over to my suitcase. I had two things in there that might work for a lunch. A pair of gray slacks that could be dressed up to pretty smart with a nice shirt. And a less formal dress, similar to the one I had on today. I sighed.
“Mom?” I called down the stairs.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Are you finished working? I might need to ask your opinion on something.”
“Sure, baby,” she called cheerfully. “Bring it right down.”
I lifted the clothes and headed downstairs. “Which is more approachable? Slacks, or the dress?”
I was determined to make a good impression tomorrow.