The sun was gloriously warm, and though it would be some time before trees started leafing, the day made it seem possible, which couldn’t fail to lift Marie’s spirits, even if she hadn’t been walking next to George Clooney’s twin.
“This is great, Quinn.” She bumped into his hand and wanted to grab it and hold on.
“It is.” He smiled down at her, obviously measuring his stride for her shorter legs, because otherwise she’d probably have to run to keep up. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. Funny how you have to goose yourself to play tourist in your own city.”
“I had a college friend who grew up in New York and had never been to the top of the Empire State Building until I came to visit.” She unzipped her jacket, already warming. “Have you taken a tour of the Miller Brewing Company here?”
“Umumblemumble.” He pretended to be fascinated by the oddly shaped facade of a development they were passing.
“Ha! I’ve done that.”
His head whipped around accusingly. “Was someone visiting?”
“D’oh!” She feigned dismay. “You got me.”
They walked farther, occasionally clambering around unfinished portions of the walk, which was being completed in stages. This northern third, called the Beerline, would be the last part built.
“How’s Kim’s big bash coming?”
“It’s coming. We decided to do a wall of Kim, showing her evolution from shy girl to fabulous hot mama.”
“A wall of Kim. Featuring what? Pictures? Letters? Objects?”
“All of the above.”
“That’s a really nice idea.”
“Why, thank you, Quinn.” Marie beamed at him, wishing he wasn’t so kind, so thoughtful, so handsome, so goddamn perfect. Even his tortured inner nature was sexy.
“Wonder what my wall would look like. Or no.” He tapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Tell me what yours would look like. Starting young.”
“Let’s see. Young Marie.” She rolled her eyes. “Chubby. Of course.”
“Adorably dimpled.”
“Dimpled everywhere. According to Mom I was a sweet baby, but didn’t handle frustration well.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Tell me more.”
She was flattered. Who wouldn’t be? “I was a good student, a good girl, occasional bursts of mild wildness, nothing unique.”
“I doubt that, but okay.” He pointed up ahead to a small hawk, swooping through bare branches.
“Oh, pretty.” They stopped to watch it choose a limb, perch and settle itself. Marie had to swallow a lump in her throat. The bird? The man? The day? Maybe just hormones.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He waited for another couple to pass them before he took off walking again. “You were telling me about Marie. Smart, well-behaved, most of the time. What about later? The dating years?”
“She had a bad tendency to get swept off her feet.” Like now, only Quinn wasn’t sweeping on purpose.
“The ex?”
“Yup. Back then I believed in love at first sight, and thought I had lived it.”
“You don’t believe in it anymore.”
“No,” Marie said firmly. “I believe in infatuation at first sight, absolutely. But love? Love is what’s left over when all the initial excitement is spent.”
They separated to pass a single walker. Quinn nodded. “It’s hard to stay a crazed romantic after your marriage has failed. Because you know all that excitement and all those deep, fabulous feelings can change. That they can die.”
“Yes.” She turned, touched by the sadness in his voice. “That’s it exactly.”
“By the way, did you ever decide what to do with that ring?”
Marie snorted. “Not give it back to him. That’s as far as I got.”
Quinn gave her a wide grin. “Good for you.”
“Thanks.” That smile made her feel she’d scored a lot more than jewelry.
A breeze blew springlike scents of earth; a couple of kayakers paddled by them downriver.
“What’s next on your wall? No, wait.” He raised his hand. “Let me guess.”
“Have at it.”
“After the divorce, a momentary dip into depression, then out of the ashes rises the powerful phoenix of Milwaukeedates.com and the remarkable woman you are today.”
“Thank you. I wouldn’t have put it quite that way…but yes, that’s the gist.” She was blushing at his compliments, hoping he’d blame her color on the exertion and the breeze. “Now take me on a tour of Quinn’s wall.”
“Quinn’s wall, hmm.” He pointed ahead. “Juneau Avenue. We’re getting to the second leg of the walk through downtown. Accounts for more people around.”
“And boat traffic.” More kayakers passing, and a small motorboat.
“Speaking of tourists, have you ever taken one of the dinner cruises down the river into Lake Michigan?”
“No, sir, haven’t done that, either.”
“Hmm.” He glanced at her, then away. “The Cellar Bar might collapse, but let’s do that one Friday night when it gets warmer.”
“Nice idea.” Warmer? Marie was plenty warm right now just thinking about him planning for the two of them that far in advance. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed you avoiding answering questions about Quinn’s wall.”
He gave her a rueful look. “Can’t get anything by you, huh?”
“Nothing. Give.”
“Okay. Let’s see.” He stretched his arms over his head, then resumed their natural swing. “Boy Quinn was a handful. According to Mom I never stopped running except when I was asleep.”
“Poor Mom.”
“Then my parents divorced and I graduated to the sneaking years, the stealing years, the brushes-with-the-law years.”
That surprised her. “Which brings you up to what age?”
“Four.”
Marie cracked up. God, he was fun. “And then what, a six-year-old’s tale of Life in the Big House?”
“Oddly, in high school I straightened out some, which I credit to Mom remarrying a strict but great guy. I found I actually liked school, and that while some women loved bad boys, there were plenty who were attracted to relative stability, too.”
“I take it that clinched your transformation.”
He bumped her purposely. “There you go again. Type-casting.”
“Sorry. Go on.” She wanted to skip ahead of him like a demented Dorothy on her own yellow brick road. Something about walking with a man—no, with this man, matching paces in the fresh air, talking easily—made her giddy with happiness.
“Then college, a good mix of fun and hard work, then moving to Boston, marrying, moving back here, divorce, pain, shutting self away, and now…”
“The great awakening.” She smiled at him, enjoying his triumph.
“And the rest of the wall remains to be filled.”
“What would you fill it with if you could choose now? Obviously, you want a new woman.”
“Obviously.”
“What else?”
“Honestly, Marie, I’m happy with the rest of my life. I love my job, I love making money, I have a great circle of friends. It’s just that wo-oma-an.”
His voice growled sexily on the word and made her go shivery. Whoever that wo-oma-an was, she’d be one lucky you-know-what.
Another kayak pulled into her peripheral vision. Marie turned to look, and did a double take.
“Holy kayakers, Batman. Kim!” She walked to the railing and made a megaphone with her hands. “Kim!”
Her friend turned. So did the guy in the kayak alongside hers. Who was that? Her brother? He wasn’t on the Milwaukeedates.com site. Totally adorable.
“Hey.” Marie waved with both hands. The boats maneuvered closer.
“Marie!” Kim was beaming, eyes lit, her new haircut blown into a beautiful tousled mane. Marie had never seen her look like that. She was radiant. “This is Nathan.”
“Hi, Nathan.” Marie gave a friendly s
mile, mind whirling. Nathan, the womanizer? He better not be the cause of Kim’s radiance. She’d get her sweet, trusting heart splattered all over their apartment. Marie should not have sent him to check out Kim’s underwear.
“Marie, nice to meet you.” From his position in front of Kim’s boat, his face out of her line of sight, he gave Marie a sly wink. “Kim’s told me great things about you.”
“That’s sweet of her.” She wished she could say Kim had been doing the same about Nathan. Marie gestured to Quinn. “This is Quinn Peters, a friend from my neighborhood.”
“Nice to meet you, Quinn.” Kim was looking at him exactly the way you’d expect a woman to look at Quinn.
“Hi, Kim, Nathan. Nice to meet you both.” His deep voice rang easily over the water. “Having a good ride today?”
“Beautiful.” Kim beamed at them. “It could not be more perfect.”
“No kidding.” Nathan turned to smile at her. Whoa. That was not the smile of a predator, that was the smile of a boy badly smitten.
So…did this crush go both ways?
Marie would have to have a chat with Kim soon.
“Have fun!” The kayaks had caught the current and slipped downstream. Marie waved to them until they were out of earshot. “Am I dreaming or was there enough heat there to set both boats on fire?”
“I’m surprised they’re not ash already.”
“Hmm. And she was too intimidated by Troy? That kid is beautiful.”
“Oh, well, sure.” Quinn laughed derisively. “If you like that young, virile and handsome thing.”
“Not me.” Marie blinked sweetly at him. “I like the mature, virile and handsome thing.”
“Really.” His gaze intensified. “I like that about you.”
She refused to read anything into the exchange, ignored that her heart was beating faster, and turned to keep walking, thinking about Kim and Nathan, how happy they looked, how natural they seemed together. Quinn had sensed it, too.
What happened to the ordinary, dull man Kim wanted? Maybe enjoying the dates with Troy and Dale had bolstered her self-esteem, made her broaden her search? That would be wonderful. Because Marie had seen in this business that if people came in with too narrow a focus on what they could or couldn’t attract, that limitation often became a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Marie had told countless clients, including Kim, that if you visualized what you wanted, even if it seemed an impossible fantasy at first, and got used to thinking of yourself as deserving, then when you went after it…
The realization was so blinding, Marie had to force herself to keep walking, because what she really wanted to do was stop and stand there with her mouth hanging open, maybe smack herself on the forehead a few times. Then a few times more.
Because the most obvious example of someone closing herself off to the type of man, or in this case the actual man, she really wanted, was the woman Marie saw every time she looked in the mirror.
“We’re still missing one thing on the topic of our walls.” Quinn’s voice jolted her back to reality. She needed to stay calm enough to finish this walk, keep chatting with him in a friendly and casual way so he wouldn’t suspect that a thunderbolt had just shot through her. She needed time to live with this, to sort out what she was going to do.
“What’s that?”
“What would you want next on your wall?”
She shrugged, as if she couldn’t imagine, when the answer roared in her head so loudly she wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.
You.
9
SATURDAY TURNED OUT to be one of those miracle days that almost never happened in Milwaukee that early in the season, especially downtown, where Lake Michigan, still cold from the long winter, could keep the air temperature a good ten degrees cooler than inland. Spring came a full week or two later lakeside than in the rest of the state.
But Saturday brought April into Wisconsin with a burst of unseasonably warm temperatures that were enough to make the winter-sick residents giddy. And enough to make Nathan actually organized. Kim had to say she was impressed. He’d reserved kayaks for them at Milwaukee’s outdoor supplier, Laacke and Joys; planned that they’d leave his car at the end of their route, then drive to the beginning in Kim’s; packed a picnic they could enjoy on the beach after their paddle—in short, he took charge in a way she’d never seen him do before.
Which was great, because her day had started out horribly. First a call from her mother woke her. Mom was an early riser but never seemed to comprehend that not everyone else was. She wanted Kim to know that one of Kim’s classmates had been appointed VP of a Fortune 500 company, and one of Kent’s old girlfriends had started her own company and was already pulling in half a million in annual sales. She wanted to know about men in Kim’s life—Kim had told her nothing about Milwaukeedates.com, hadn’t even told her about Nathan having moved in. Her mother asked what Kim was doing for her birthday, said she hated to think of her spending it alone with that computer. Thirty was such an important age, and how was her little business going, by the way? Mom worried about her future, she really did.
By the end of the call, Kim had been as rigid as an iron rod, one that someone had tried to stomp into the ground about a dozen times. Nothing could bring on heartburn like a call from her mother. All Kim’s life it had been hammered home: nothing mattered but financial security. Husband cheating? Who cared, as long as his salary kept coming in. Work exhausting you to the point where it endangered your health? Oh, well! At least you had plenty of cash.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, after Kim dragged herself through breakfast and powered up her machine, there had been an email from Dale that was so passionately over-the-top, she could only conclude that he’d been drunk when he wrote it, from Hong Kong or wherever he was now, and therefore it left her feeling more uneasy than romantic.
But wait! There was more! While she’d been sitting there feeling squeamish at Dale’s certainty that the moon and sun set over her bed, another email had come in. This one from Emily, account executive at Soka Associates, the friend who’d tipped Kim off about Carter opening their website job for bidding. She said rumors were buzzing that Soka was reorganizing and that Kim’s name had been brought up to fill the new interactive creative director post. A well-paying, prestigious job, a great opportunity for Kim, except that considering the change left a miserable, defeated taste in her mouth. Back to the grind, the politics, the backstabbing and low morale…
After that it didn’t surprise her when she stumbled heavily through her dance class in a body that felt like it belonged to someone else. It was just one of those days.
Except it wasn’t. Not anymore. Being outdoors without walls or worries after the long season cooped up in the apartment felt like being let out of jail. The afternoon with Nathan so far had been wonderful; Kim couldn’t believe she’d lived in Milwaukee this long and had never been on the river before. In Wooster, Ohio, where she grew up, there wasn’t a whole lot of water around, but she’d been kayaking once while visiting a friend in Loudonville, and had done pretty well. Today she was happy to find the strokes still familiar, the sensation of powering a boat so easily through the water exhilarating; paddling seemed to take hardly any effort. Granted, going with the current helped.
Best of all, Nathan had been nothing but polite and respectful, starting this morning when he’d hauled himself out of bed looking scruffy, sleepy and nearly irresistible. On the river, they’d chatted easily, pointed out sights to each other along the way, or drifted in companionable silence. She’d enjoyed his company more today than she ever had—which brought up its own set of problems that she refused to acknowledge. She was going to take on Nathan’s philosophy: enjoy this day and leave analysis and consequences for another time.
Right now they were heading for a picnic spot on the near-deserted lakeshore, Nathan lugging a cooler, Kim hauling a fat canvas bag. She couldn’t believe they’d bumped into Marie and that total catch she was with.
If her friend had been keeping him to herself, she was in big trouble. No fair if Kim’s love life was an open book—hell, Marie was helping write some of it—and Marie got to keep secrets. If she didn’t spill, the girls would hear of this at their next Women in Power meeting, and take appropriate action.
Kim grinned just thinking about it. Everything was making her smile. The first days of warm weather were the best high that existed. She couldn’t imagine how people in tropical and temperate climates existed without this annual rebirth. Of course, they probably couldn’t imagine how anyone existed having to shovel hundreds of pounds of snow off every conceivable surface over and over, month after month.
However, in her book, days like today made all that more than worthwhile.
“How about right here?” Nathan jerked his head toward a spot no different from hundreds of others on the mostly empty beach.
“I don’t know.” She glanced over dubiously and pointed several inches to the right. “I kind of had my heart set on right there.”
Nathan frowned. “This is going to get ugly.”
“Compromise?” She pointed two inches left.
“I guess I can give that much.” He set the cooler down, took the bag from her, and produced a worn comforter that he unfolded over the sand. “Have a seat?”
“Thank you. Mmm, I’m starving.”
“Same here.” He opened the cooler lid. “Peanut butter sandwiches, chips and Cokes sound good?”
“The best.”
“Wow, Kim, I’m sorry.” He looked crestfallen. “I don’t have any of that.”
“What…” She pushed him out of the way and peered into the cooler. “Oh, my gosh, Nathan! This looks amazing.”
He grinned, adorably pleased with himself. “Glad you think so.”
“Yum!” She started unpacking: French bread, olives, salami and ham, roasted peppers, tiny balls of fresh mozzarella sprinkled with basil, cherry tomatoes, Brie, marinated artichoke hearts, strawberries, chocolate chip cookies— “Nathan, you have outdone yourself.”
Long Slow Burn Page 12