“No worries.” She handed him a piece of paper. “You can set your things down here. Take a moment to look at this, then we’ll get started.”
Nick glanced over the short script. Seemed straight forward enough. A younger woman took his arm and steered him toward the stage area. “We need you over here. Stand on the blue tape, and just relax.”
It was obvious to Nick that Liza was the person he most needed to impress, and he glanced at her during the teleprompt piece. Her arms were crossed, eyebrows drawn in as she intently studied the screen in front of her. He noted a few nods, some whispers to the man standing beside her. Shooting for nonchalant, Nick continued reading as smoothly as he could, which he thought was pretty damned good, but also reminded himself that he had nothing to lose. If he didn’t get the spot, he simply resumed his career as it was—not a bad thing.
“Looks like that’s another homerun renovation. Thanks for joining us today on HomeBuilders.”He finished the piece with a smile and made eye contact with Liza, who immediately began rapid-fire questions. “What tools do you use to carve the details or install inlay? What’s a plane? How do you miter a corner? Our audience may not be familiar with these terms. Give us short, easy explanations.”
Hard to do with no product or visual aids, but with a few hand gestures, he thought he did all right.
Finally, Liza waved a hand. “That’s good.”
“And that’s a wrap,” a guy called from behind another screen.
Liza spoke to the other members of the team then slipped out the door before Nick had a chance to grab his computer and thank her for the opportunity. He had no idea what to make of that. Maybe she was just a busy lady.
He shook hands with the remaining interviewers, and Charles escorted him back to the reception area.
“Thanks for coming in,” Charles said. “We’ll be in touch, probably by the end of next week.”
“Sounds good,” Nick told him. “Thanks, again.”
And that was it. He left the office with zero indication of where he stood.
Fortunately, he had the perfect antidote to provide a diversion.
After a nerve-jarring stop-and-go cab ride, Nick arrived at the Museum of Modern Art and texted Kat.
Minutes later, she appeared at his side. “Hey there. How’d it go?”
His heart tripped at her wide smile and bright eyes. “I think it went well, but I guess I’ll find out next week. How are things here? You sure you can take the time?”
“Definitely. In fact, my boss told me to go and have fun because we’re starting a new project on Monday. That’s code for get ready for a couple of weeks in hell.”
Nick laughed with her, appreciating her attitude. She didn’t seem to mind working a little overtime. Or maybe she just enjoyed her work, which was also a good thing. “All right, then. Let’s follow orders and have some fun. Where to?”
Kat glanced at her watch. “Do you want to run through the museum while you’re here? We could eat in the cafe. Or there are lots of other places close by. We don’t have that much time since you’ll need to get to the airport by four-thirty.”
In that moment, Nick knew he wasn’t getting on that flight. He’d be a complete fool to miss out on spending time with Kat over a cancellation fee. “Right.” He stalled for a few seconds, then ran his hand down her arm. “Listen, what’ve you got planned for the rest of the weekend?”
She twisted a lock of hair then pushed it behind her ear and looked upward, presumably consulting the calendar in her head. “Umm…nothing much tomorrow. Laundry, grocery store. Sundays are my day at the studio. Why?”
“Would you consider having dinner with me again tonight?”
Her brows pulled together as her eyes met his. “Wha–”
He knew she got it as soon as her mouth dropped open then switched to a shy smile. The smile widened, and Nick’s pulse went crazy.
“You’re canceling your flight?”
ChapterSeven
Kat’s heart thumped like a bongo drum. She glanced around the museum lobby and found everyone else going about their business, apparently oblivious to the seismic shift. Nick was extending his stay—for her.
She knew it wasn’t his love of the city or desire to sightsee. While the implications and what-ifs pummeled her inside, he waited for an answer, his eyes focused on her.
With a light laugh, she took his arm and led the way to the elevator. “Dinner tonight sounds lovely.”
“I’ll need to make a couple of phone calls, but let’s have lunch first. You like the cafe here?”
