He nodded, enjoying the look on her face. He felt like he could sit and talk to her all day long. But he really, desperately wanted to escape so he could analyze these strange feelings he had from the moment she came out from behind the partition. He stood and asked, “Pick you up at seven?”
She nodded. “Yeah, sure. Seven is great.” She stood as well. “I suppose you need my address.”
Forwhat seemed like the millionth time, Daisy stared at herself in the mirror and asked out loud, “What are you doing?”
In answer, the reflection of herself wearing the little black dress with the red embroidered roses along the hem and the clunky red beaded necklace looked down at her from the mountaintop and answered, “Going to dinner with the man of my dreams.”
As she turned away from the mirror, she picked up her black beaded clutch purse and slipped her cell phone and a tube of red lipstick inside it. “And, we know we’re pregnant. Yes. That has been established for a solid week now. But come on. It’s Ken Dixon. What will it hurt to go on one little date?”
Before she could answer herself and explain to her reflection exactly all the ways it could hurt—again—the doorbell rang. It pulled her out of the conversation and brought her back into a place of reality. Not only did the doorbell ring, but Ken Dixon stood on her front porch waiting to take her on a date. Giddy excited butterflies had sprung loose in her stomach. She could not even contain herself over the idea of this dream come true.
She soared over the peak of the mountain and opened the door. He stood there with his wavy brown hair, gray eyes that cut right through her, wearing a blue button-down shirt open at the collar, and a pair of gray slacks. “Hi,” she said on a breath. “Did you have any problem finding the place?”
She stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. He slipped his hands into his pockets and stepped across the threshold. “No. Actually think I used to own this building.”
Confused, she asked, “What?”
He looked at the ceiling and the hall closet door and nodded. “Pretty sure I built it and all these townhouses on the street. Don’t remember if we sold them or if we’re renting them out.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you rent, or do you own?”
She tilted her head to study his face. “I rent it.”
He pursed his lips and nodded. “Do you pay Mason-Dixon?”
“Mason-Dixon?”
“Mason-Dixon Realty management. That’s our branch of property leasing. My brothers and I build a lot of properties as investments. We either sell them immediately or hand them over to the rental division. I just can’t remember what we did with this building.”
“I don’t pay Mason-Dixon Realty.” This line of conversation confused her and threw her off her game. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Soda?”
“No, thanks.” He glanced around her living room. She had wood floors stained black and accented them with a black rug covered in red, yellow, and turquoise flowers. Her television sat on a low bright pink table that ran the length of one wall. It matched her pink coffee table and brought out the pink flowers on the black throw pillows on her yellow couch. Through the doorway, he could see the turquoise wall of her dining room. “Good colors. Makes the room feel bigger. Brighter.”
It shouldn’t have pleased her so much to get his approval of her style. “Thank you. It’s a gradual work-in-progress. I tend to do most of my shopping at flea markets.”
He looked at his watch. “We have reservations at seven-thirty if you’re ready to go.”
She grabbed the red shawl she had tossed onto the back of her chair and said, “I’m ready.”
He led the way out of her house. She paused to lock the door, then followed him to his pickup truck. As he opened the door, he stopped her. “Sorry. I get a little too far inside my head sometimes. That wasn’t the best start of a date.”
This close to him, she could smell his aftershave, the spicy fragrance that brought images of cowboys and the wild west to her mind. It suited him. “I don’t think you should apologize. It’s kind of neat that I live in a house you built.”
His smile came quick and made her heart kick it up a notch. “Appreciate that.” He gestured to the interior of the truck. “Your carriage awaits.”
Using the step on the side of the truck, she climbed into the spotless cab. She could smell leather cleaner mixed with glass cleaner and felt a warm rush of emotion at the thought that he’d cleaned his truck before coming to get her.
As they drove into downtown Atlanta, they chatted about her brother. “Diego has his own church now down in Panama City.”
Ken nodded. “I know. When we went down to Florida after the hurricane a couple of years ago, we partnered with his church.”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know that. He had so much going on at that time.”
“He fed about two hundred people a day. The storm leveled most of the city.” At a stoplight, he glanced over at her. “We stayed at his house. His wife was pregnant at the time.”
“Yeah. Little DJ. The light of our lives.” Instantly, she thought about her baby. Right now, the only other person on earth who knew about it had signed away his rights to it. What would her parents say? She remembered the elaborate announcement of Diego’s baby. The memory of the celebrations her family enjoyed filled her with sadness. What was she going to do? “How about your brothers? Any nieces or nephews?”
“Not yet. My parents are more than ready, though. Apparently, thirty-two is the age the parents quit and being coy start dropping actual hints.”
He pulled into the valet area of a building. She recognized the Viscolli hotel, the same place her grandparents had taken her when they offered her the job. After he stopped the truck, he sat for a moment, then turned to face her. “Out of curiosity, did you know I was coming to your office yesterday?”
