Nick slid an arm around her shoulders. “She’ll be home before you know it.”
They both fell silent as they tackled the dirty supper dishes and cleanup.
Nick reached into a drawer for aluminum foil, wondering if Kat’s family worried about her in the city. He’d only known her a short while and already he was concerned about how secure her apartment was, what her neighbors were like, how safe the walk from her place to the subway was.
He startled when his mother nudged him.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart? You’re drifting away like you’ve got some deep thoughts in there.”
How could she always read him so well? He started to shake his head and pretend it was nothing. But was there really any harm in telling her about Kat? Maybe it would help take her mind off his sister for a while. He paused a moment then said, “I met someone.”
His mother’s brows arched instantly, and her hands stilled as she turned her full attention to him. “Is that right? As in someone you’re dating?”
“Not sure. She lives in New York.”
The brows furrowed. “You met her while you were in New York?”
Nick leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. Might as well settle in and give the low-down. “Met her in Denver when she was home for Christmas. But I did see her in New York.”
“Well, that’s interesting. Tell me about her.”
“She’s an artist—paints. Works at the Museum of Modern Art and is the daughter of a potential client in Denver. Her name–”
“Whoa. Hold on a minute.” She held up a hand to stop him. “I thought other artists were off limits. Prima donnas…dreamers…moodiness. Isn’t that what I’ve been hearing for years?”
Nick blew out his breath. She was right. Ever since college when he’d witnessed a few volatile relationships between people in the art studios and the meltdown of a relationship of his own, he’d sworn off artists. And he made a point to steer clear of personal attachment to any of the consigning artists at All Things Beautiful. Never mind that earlier in the day he’d been contemplating adding Kat’s paintings to the shop. Exceptions could be made, right?
He gave his mother a slow smile. “I think she’s kind of special.”
His mother’s mouth dropped open. But seconds later, the gape was replaced by a wide smile. “Oh, my.”
“She works hard on her career, making things happen. Not looking for someone else to do it for her or sitting around waiting for her muse to visit. She’s out there making connections, getting to know people, volunteering…”
“Ah, now that’s starting to make sense. She sounds lovely. Does this mean you’ll be dashing off to New York on a regular basis?”
Nick finished the last swallow of beer before answering. “Not sure. She doesn’t come home often.” He tossed the bottle into the recycling bin and resisted checking his phone to see if Kat had responded to his earlier text.
“Hmm. If she’s that busy, it’ll be hard to make the time. Daughter of which client, honey?”
Nick sucked in a deep breath, regretting that he’d mentioned the tense Rebecca Andrews and Denver homes show. “The one doing the homes show.”
“Oh,” his mother said, the surprise in her voice indicating she remembered their earlier conversation about that job. “Well, that’s okay. We know kids don’t always turn out to be like their parents.”
“And not all moms can be as amazing as you, right?” Nick teased.
A grin widened on her face. “That’s a fact. You got lucky.”
“Thanks for dinner. Think I’m going to head back to my place. Tell Dad I said hello.”
His mother hooked an arm with his as they headed toward the front room. “Will do. I’m glad you’re seeing someone. It’s good to do something besides work every once in a while, you know.”
Nick planted a kiss on her cheek then opened the door. “Night.”
On the short walk back to his place, he pulled the phone from his pocket and read a message from Kat. His pulse spiked. Looked like he would be “seeing someone” tonight.
* * *
At eight-thirty Mountain time, Nick clicked on Kat’s video calling ID, and only seconds later, her face appeared on his cell phone.
