Up to Date

by Susan Hatler

  Rach touched my arm, making me jump. “Is everything okay? I just asked you twice if you liked this picture and you still haven’t answered.”

  “Sorry.” I faked a smile, then glanced at the framed country landscape, which was lovely but didn’t feel like Greg at all. Although, it wasn’t like I knew that much about him. Except that he was funny, sweet, helpful, and poured lots of love into his kitten. “I’m just stressed about . . . the magazine interview.”

  True statement. The article was totally on my ever-growing list of stressful things along with Greg, my sister, my parents, and the job that had bored me before and now plagued me due to my boss’s new affinity for micro-management.

  “Ginger?” Her right brow rose. “Just talk to me. Are you worried about your date tomorrow night?”

  “My what? Oh, right . . .” I sighed, having totally forgotten about my date with Trenton Davis tomorrow night. Probably a million women would die to go out with Rochelle Richards’s ex, but I could only concentrate on the guy who was wrong for me. “I’m not sure what to think about Trenton. He’s nice. Kaitlin thinks we’ll make a good couple, but his fascination with all things financial doesn’t exactly make me melt.”

  Suddenly, the lyrics of “Reunited” by Peaches and Herb rolled through my brain—the tune continuing in a whistle. Totally swoon-worthy. I brought my wrist to my forehead. Why couldn’t I get Greg out of my head?

  Rach cleared her throat. “You’re obviously distracted. Does this have anything to do with that guy you ran into at the fundraiser Friday night?”

  My eyes popped open. “How do you know about him?”

  “Kaitlin told me.” Rach picked up a scented diffuser, sniffed the top, then held it out for me to take a whiff. “She said you got all gooey over a hot guy. Ryan’s friend or something.”

  “They’ve been buddies since elementary school,” I said, breathing in sandalwood. The oil reminded me of a run through the woods. Definitely Greg. I turned it over to check the price. “That’s actually delicious.”

  Just like Greg smelled. . . .

  “I’m helpful sometimes.” Rach smiled, then sampled another diffuser. “Maybe you could put in a good word about me with my BFF. Tell Ellen how awesome I am so she doesn’t freak as much when I blow her shower.”

  “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.” I smirked, throwing her words back at her. “The point of a baby shower is to enjoy yourself.”

  “The shower, yes. The planning, not so much.” She eyed some figurines at the end of the aisle, lifting a small angel in a blue robe. “This is darling.”

  My eyes widened. “That won’t go with a man’s den.”

  She rolled her eyes. “For Ellen’s baby, silly.”

  “In that case, it’s adorable.” I smiled, then glanced at the rest of the display, my gaze locking on a large bronze statue of a kitten. He sat tall, wearing a focused expression, his front paw frozen as he was about to bat a roll of yarn. My breath caught. “Oh, my . . . this is perfect.”

  I pictured the beautiful chest of drawers against Greg’s living room wall. A flat-screen TV occupied the top, hiding the chest’s beauty. I could move the piece into Greg’s den and this statue would be perfect on top. Maybe add a lamp to highlight the statue, and a frame next to it with a personal photo. . . .

  Twenty minutes later, we checked out at the register. Rach had purchased the darling angel for Ellen and I had all of the personal touches needed to transform Greg’s den. All I had left to do was stop by the mall after work to pick up the curtains and accent pillows I’d put on hold.

  Walking back to the office, Rach expressed her worries about throwing Ellen the world’s best baby shower. She was terrified she’d blow this once in a lifetime occasion. Since I’d already tried to calm her down, this time I smiled and nodded, letting her get her concerns off her chest.

  My cell phone gave a ping ping, alerting me that I had a text message. So I discreetly reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. Greg Shaffer’s name appeared across my screen. Chills tingled through me, and I opened the message: How’d the shopping go?

  I glanced at the time. One o’clock, which was the middle of the night for him since he worked the graveyard shift. Mom, Mary Ann, and I had tiptoed around the house growing up when Dad had worked nights. My fingers flew over the keys and I typed: Aren’t you supposed to be getting your rest right now?

  Ping! Ping!

  Sliding my finger over the screen, I read: Couldn’t be helped. Woke up thinking about you.

  My stomach heated, so I chastised myself. I had to keep things between us at the client/decorator level. Then my brows furrowed. He really should be fast asleep right now since he had to work all night. I grew up knowing how demanding this job was and how important being alert was in the E.R.. I typed back: As the client, you need to let me worry about the shopping. Go back to sleep.

  My phone pinged: You’re the boss.

  Relieved that he’d get the rest he needed, I started to put my phone away. Then I glanced at the box, which held the kitten statue. A rush of adrenaline jolted through me. I couldn’t wait to show the statue to him. I whipped out my cell, fingers flying across the keyboard: PS You’re going to love what I picked for you. So will The Skipper.

  Seconds later, my phone pinged: I’m sure we will. Thx, sunshine.

  I typed back: Good night, Greg.

  Even though the adorable nickname he’d used for me wasn’t professional, my mouth curled upward. In fact, I ended up smiling all afternoon.

  Chapter Five

  At noon on Friday, my shaky hands gripped the steering wheel as I drove to my condo complex during my lunch hour. I’d finished decorating the den last night and Greg—er, my client I reminded myself for the hundredth time—loved the final result. When he thanked me, his eyes had been full of emotion. He’d praised each one of my choices, which touched me deeply.

  Now we were waiting to see what Jenna thought.

  Although I assured Greg he didn’t need to attend since he’d worked all night at the hospital, he refused to miss the photo shoot. He told me he had the next two nights off work, so I felt better that he wouldn’t be trying to save lives in the emergency room while exhausted.

  As Greg puttered in the kitchen, I rose from his couch, and started pacing. What if Jenna hated the look? Sure, Greg and I loved the den. The room had been cold and plain before. Now, it felt warm and welcoming, making me want to curl up with a novel in the antique accent chair I’d found at a consignment store.

  My forehead throbbed. What if Jenna thought classical-cozy felt boring? I’d added a framed poster of Vincent Van Gogh’s Twelve Sunflowers in a Vase for color and fun. What if she preferred flowers in the kitchen? In my opinion, flowers filled every room with happiness, but it’s not like I had a degree to validate my taste. That why Jenna’s opinion meant so much to me.

  My palms turned clammy and I rubbed them against my blue slacks.

  Greg sauntered from the kitchen to the living room, and handed me a mug. “Peppermint tea. Should help calm your nerves.”

  “Is it that obvious I’m freaked out?” I wrapped my hands around the warm cup, gratefully. His support meant a lot, especially since I wasn’t used to having someone take care of me. “Waiting for Jenna feels like slow torture.”

  He rubbed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the sofa. “You transformed my den, Ginger. You have an amazing touch. Just ask The Skipper. The den is now his favorite room, but he has to suffer with my bedroom until after the interview so he doesn’t get in the way.”

  “Well, if the kitten likes the improvements then I’m set,” I joked. My belly tightened with knots as dropped down on the couch and tried to deep breathe. No big deal. It was only my entire future.

  Knock-knock-knock.

  My eyes flew to the front door. “I’ll get it.”

  Greg brows came together in confusion when I didn’t move. He gestured with his hand and nodded toward the door. “Want to m
e to . . .?”

  My throat went dry, my legs were lead, and I lifted my lashes. “Yes, please.”

  I watched in terror as Greg answered the door and greeted Jenna, whose long blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders. Get a grip, Ginger. Taking a deep breath, I stood, then pasted on a smile. “Hi, Jenna. How are you?”

  I’d stood and I’d formed words. Props for improvement.

  Jenna rushed in, and shook my hand, a large leather bag slung over her shoulder. “Nice to see you again. I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have to be clear across town for another appointment shortly. The den was this way, right?”

  Talk about getting down to business. My heart thudded in my chest.

  “Yes,” I said, taking the lead then stopping outside the door to the den as she slipped inside. Every muscle in my body clenched as I twisted my hair around and around, waiting for the verdict. Seconds ticked by, feeling like eons.

  “Wow.” Jenna rotated around the room, holding her arms out. “What a transformation. The room has so much life now.” She removed her camera from the bag, took off the lens cap, and started taking shots. Click-click-click. “Love the Van Gogh. Really adds some extra energy in here.”

  My stomach uncoiled, and I whooshed out the breath I’d been holding. She liked it. She really did. Feeling almost euphoric, I glanced over at Greg who mouthed “I told you so” when Jenna wasn’t looking. I bit my lip and smiled, loving that he had so much faith in me. Adrenaline rushed through my body as if I’d just finished a five-mile run.

  After Jenna finished taking pictures, she asked about my motivations for each of the changes I’d made. Then, she turned to Greg, touching his arm. “This is your home. How do you feel about the changes Ginger made?”

  My stomach churned as I gaped at her hand on his forearm. Was physical touch really necessary during an interview? Every part of me screamed to remove her hand myself. Not that I was territorial or anything.

  “I couldn’t be happier.” He casually leaned against the wall, moving slightly away from her in a way that was almost unnoticeable. Unless, of course, you were staring obsessively like I was. “Ginger captured my personality perfectly.”

  She nodded, clasped her hands together, then turned my way. “This room feels very personal to me, too. Like you know him well. Were you friends before the auction?”

  Memories of the night we’d met washed over me. Each dance when he’d held me, every word we’d spoken, every moment we’d touched. “We had only met once.”

  His eyes locked on mine. “Sometimes that’s all it takes.”

  Heat sizzled between us so thick I wanted to fan myself, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him. For a moment, I forgot Jenna was in the room. Truthfully, I would’ve had trouble remembering my name right now. Yowzers.

  “Ginger’s very talented.” He winked at me, then shifted his eyes to Jenna. “I’m eager to see what she does next.”

  “As am I.” A dimple formed in her cheek, and she adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “Thank you both so much. In addition to the charity and the auction, I feel like the personal side of the interview will attract a reader’s interest.”

  I inhaled, trying to catch my breath and form coherent words. “We’re happy to help Founding Friendships. It’s a wonderful organization.”

  “Definitely.” With a final glance at me, Greg walked Jenna to the entryway and held the door open for her.

  She turned back around. “May I get a few of your business cards, Ginger? I’d love to recommend you to my friends who’d mentioned remodeling their homes.”

  Business cards? I wanted to kick myself for not being prepared with them.

  My heart stopped. “Yes, of course. I’ll bring some on Tuesday when you come back for your next round of photos.”

  She smiled, then glanced around the living room. “I can’t wait to see what you do with the space in here. You really have a unique flair. I think the step-by-step interview will be intriguing as well. Have a great weekend. Bye.”

  “Bye.” As soon as the door closed, my gaze flew to Greg.

  He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the most adorable way. “I’d say that puts your worries to rest.”

  “Greg . . .” A jolt of electricity zapped through me either from the sweet way he was looking at me, the excitement from Jenna’s approval, or both. Whatever the reason, something came over me and I hurled myself up into his arms.

  He held me tight and elation flowed through me—as if a crack in my life had just been filled. I felt whole. There was no other way to explain the emotions buzzing through me. And there was definitely no way to explain why, when Greg pulled back and gazed down at me, I lifted up onto my tippy-toes and pressed my lips against his.

  He was still for a moment as if I’d surprised him. I’d definitely shocked myself. Then his fingers speared through my hair and his lips captured mine. Tingles radiated across my chest, making me feel like I was floating. When his mouth opened, I didn’t hesitate, pressing my tongue against his. We tasted each other hungrily, savoring, as if we’d been waiting a long time for this. And we had.

  I’d wanted to kiss Greg that very first night we’d met. Dancing with him, laughing with him, and talking together at the diner had felt easy. Natural. And right. Locked in his embrace right now, his mouth devouring mine completely, only one question plagued me. Why hadn’t we been doing this the whole time?

  Emergency room doctor. Big family. The reminders flashed in my head like giant warning signs. A jolt zapped through me, putting me on red alert.

  Quickly, I pulled away, and stepped back. Fighting to catch my breath, my hand covered my mouth, and I stared up into Greg’s heavy-lidded eyes. What. Had. I. Done?

  He moved toward me. “Ginger . . .”

  “I’m sorry.” I shook my head, still stunned, and spoke through numb fingers. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  A line formed between his brows. “I’m not sorry.”

  No matter how amazing it felt with Greg—and amazing didn’t begin to describe the way the guy kisses, wowzers—a relationship between us would never work out. Pursuing anything with him would be completely impractical. I needed to be rational. For both of our sakes.

  Regretfully, I lifted my handbag off of his coffee table, then slipped it over my shoulder. “I should get back to work.”

  Standing in front of me, he slipped his hands into his pockets. “Talk to me.”

  My heart pounded against my ribcage. “My lunch break’s over. I need to go.”

  A flicker of hurt washed across his face, but he walked me to the door. Once I slipped outside, I spun around to face him, and he leaned against the doorjamb. His jaw muscles twitched, but he didn’t say anything.

  Oh, the awkwardness.

  I sucked in a breath, wanting to depart on a friendlier note. “I’m relieved Jenna’s happy with the den. I hope the rest of the project goes just as well.”

  He peered down at me, his expression serious. “Go out with me tonight.”

  My stomach fluttered, while a dull ache rocked through my chest. A huge part of me begged to give in and say yes. . . .

  “I already have a date,” I said, lamely. A date I wasn’t jazzed to go on, but still. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t lose my head. It would only hurt more later. “Thanks for being here today. Your support means a lot to me. I’ll work on the living room this weekend.”

  “You’re the boss.” His eyes darkened, then he closed the door.

  My heart squeezed, but there was nothing I could do. There was no point in going out with Greg when it could never progress to anything more. I’d slipped by kissing him, which made me feel bad enough. I couldn’t let that happen again, no matter how tempting.

  ****

  “Are you telling me I’m fired?” My jaw dropped open and my grip tightened on the armrests of the chair across from Kaitlin’s desk.

  Kaitlin shook her head emphatically. “Getting laid off is not the same as being
fired. You’ll receive glowing recommendations and we’re giving you two weeks of severance pay, plus all of the vacation and sick leave you’ve accumulated.”

  My face went numb as I leaned forward. “But the bottom line is that I no longer work here. I need to clean out my office and go home. Right?”

  She pressed her lips together. “I wouldn’t put it so harshly. But, yes.”

  My brows furrowed. “How long have you known about this?”

  She raised both palms in the air. “Rich just told me this morning. I didn’t want to say anything to you earlier because you had that interview with Sacramento Living at lunch.”

  I crossed my arms. “That’s very considerate of you.”

  “This wasn’t my decision, Ginger. You have to believe me.” She clasped her hands together. “Rich is cutting costs across the board. You’re not the only one we had to lay off today.”

  That got my attention. “Who else?”

  “We let Melinda Morgan go this morning. She’d been with the company for years.” Her expression crumpled and she rubbed her hands over her face. “This is the worst part of my job. I hate it.”

  “At least you have a job.” I tossed back. How would I pay my bills? I didn’t have jack in savings. Mary Ann only paid her half of the rent when her mood struck. My sight blurred and I yanked the sides of my hair. I was so screwed. “How did Melinda take it?”

  “Who knows?” She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “She acted just like always, perfectly put together and poised.”

  Unlike me, who was pulling out wads of hair and copping an attitude with one of my good friends.

  I sighed, dropping my hands in my lap. “I know this isn’t your fault. I’m just thrown, I guess. I’ve never been fired before.”

  “Laid off.” Her voice was gentle. “I totally understand. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”