eleven
Bonnie had come through with flying colors—seats at the sold-out Broadway tour show, quiet table for two in an upscale restaurant. The most surprising thing was they had reached intermission and Colin hadn’t pulled out a phone or tablet once. He also didn’t seem to be going through withdrawals. Of course, he had spent the entire first act using his fingers to explore her hand and wrist. Candace had no idea she had so many sensitive nerve endings in those places. She’d held a few guys hands before, but it was always about the goal of getting to the kiss or something that would get the guy slapped.
He traced the little scar on the back of her hand from one of the many IV lines that had been placed there. It wasn’t the only scar left from her cancer years, but it was the easiest to see. Yet few ever noticed. Colin noticed little things. Other than Mandy and Zoe, she didn’t feel like many people, even those she called friends, saw her under her crazy wigs and bright artist colors. Colin was coming dangerously close.
The music changed to a melancholy tune as the wise-old-man character sang a ballad. Something about him reminded her of Reverend Cavanagh. Would he be proud she’d started a ten-year plan? She would finish the carousel and convince Nick to use it to open an indoor theme park for children with cancer. Many rides would need to be relatively tame, like the merry-go-round, to accommodate those who might bruise easily from faster rides because of blood conditions. Rigorous sanitation standards would be the most difficult thing to maintain. The rides would need to be cleaned often. Not to mention the need to accommodate oxygen tanks and other medical equipment. The idea kept turning around in her head. Things like fair games that were possible to win, unlike a shooting gallery, could be modified so as to be accessible to wheelchair-reliant patients.
A tingling sensation in her arm brought her thoughts back to another thing in her new plan. A deep and meaningful relationship.
Colin’s fingers trailed up and down her arm, and a tiny sigh escaped her. If only the show could go on and on. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him looking at her instead of at the stage, where one of the greatest performances of the decade was rapidly drawing to a close. She smiled at him, and he turned his attention back to the show. Candace used her other hand to trace a pattern on the back of his. Only as she started the second time through the pattern did she realize it resembled a Celtic love knot.
She paused. Meaningful relationship didn’t mean she needed to be in love, did it? It must be just leftover thoughts from so many of her friends getting married this year. One could have a deep relationship without falling in love—or maybe a man and woman couldn’t. Her thoughts ebbed and flowed with the song to the finale. Too bad real life couldn’t be solved with a song. If she kept going out with Colin, she was just setting him up to be hurt. Over the past year and a half, she’d gleaned that Colin may not have dated anyone in his life. At least not that Daniel knew of. She should just end it now.
But the little electrical sparks traveling up her arm and making their way to nudge her heart begged her not to. Did a meaningful relationship mean there would be pain?
As the theater started to clear, Colin stood and helped Candace with the light wrap she’d brought. There was something sad about her smile. Perhaps she found the end of the musical as moving as he had. Musical theater went on his list of activities to do again, preferably with Candace.
When the room was three-quarters empty, Andrew Hastings approached from the wings. “There is a great deal of paparazzi out front due to a particular singing sensation in the audience. If you come this way, we can use a rear exit.”
Colin tucked Candace’s hand into the crook of his arm like he did when escorting a dance partner to the floor, then followed Andrew out of the building. The other security guard followed them.
Once they were securely in the car, Colin resumed holding Candace’s hand. Sometime during the past forty-eight hours, he’d concluded that hand-holding was underestimated in every article he ever read. It was far more intimate than given credit for. He could die quite happily now.
“I had no idea the theater could be so exciting. I guess I shouldn’t have dodged my mother’s invitations all these years.” Now that his father had passed, he wished he had taken the time to get to know his parents better, but they didn’t understand him any more than they did his love for programming. Mother’s interest in his life had increased exponentially since Daniel’s wedding last year, the interest mostly manifested in not-so-cleverly-disguised attempts to set him up with her friends’ daughters. He wondered what his mother would think of Candace. They’d met, of course, at Daniel’s wedding and again at the New Year’s party. But both times, Candace had been dressed what his mother would call “appropriately,” meaning Candace’s hair wasn’t green, or pink, or orange.
Candace asked him a question. He had been so distracted with his own thoughts he had to ask her to repeat it.
“I asked what your favorite part was.”
Holding your hand. “The dancing at the beginning of the second part.”
“That was good. I want to try a couple of those moves.”
“Come dancing with me next weekend.”
“Where?”
“I am sure we can find something. If not, there is the ballroom out at the house. We can go there. Mother won’t mind if she is there.” She would be delighted. All week he’d dodged her calls, knowing she was curious about the date. Janie must have blabbed.
“You have a ballroom?” She sat up straight and turned to him. “Why have you not told me this?”
“It never came up?” No way was he ready to take Candace out to the house if his mother was around. Mom would be contacting her calligrapher for the wedding invitations.
“In all the dancing we have done, it never came up?” Candace shook her head and sat back, leaning into his side. “We have been friends for a year and a half. What other secrets do you have?”
I’ve never kissed a woman, and I want to kiss you. “I don’t know. There is also a swimming pool with a removable structure so it is open year around. I just don’t think about things like that.”
The driver pulled into the underground parking lot and stopped in front of the elevator bay.
“Do you want to come up? I asked Sabrina to put ice cream on the order. And I was very specific about it being chocolate with fudge ribbons.” Colin held his breath, waiting for the answer.
“Sure. If your AI goofed, I have some of the good stuff at my apartment.” Candace entered the elevator with him.
He might have tried to kiss her then, but he knew the security camera would catch the moment, and no way would Hastings Security get an image of his first kiss.
This time he didn’t mind that the elevator was in express mode.