Better Deeds Than Words (The WORDS Series)

by Georgina Guthrie

  “Daniel, I’ll see you downstairs in two minutes.”

  “I know. And we have class in a few hours, but it won’t be the same.” He sighed and cradled my cheek in his hand. “Promise me we’ll do this again on Friday?”

  “Definitely,” I promised.

  He pulled me into a tight hug. “Okay. Head on down and wait for me in the lot. I’ll be there in a few.”

  “No problem.”

  Despite my level-headed façade, I knew exactly how he felt. Friday seemed like a lifetime away. I took one last look at Daniel’s orderly living room.

  “One second,” I said, stepping back through the door.

  “Did you forget something?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I couldn’t help it. The temptation was killing me. I walked over to the coffee table and pushed the pile of magazines over, watching as they slid haphazardly across the shiny surface.

  “There.” I smiled brightly and rejoined him at the door. He grinned and shook his head as I slipped out into the hallway. “See you in a couple of minutes.”

  I was passing the steps of Old Vic just before eight thirty when I saw Dean Grant making his way toward me along the path. He waved, then motioned to my single glove.

  “Good morning, Aubrey. Is this your homage to Michael Jackson?”

  Oh, David, you’re such a square, I thought. But then I felt guilty. Would I have thought this of Dean Grant before meeting Daniel’s grandmother and hearing her prattle about his shortcomings? I wasn’t sure.

  “Merely another glove that’s lost its partner,” I confessed. “I’m afraid losing gloves is my tragic flaw.”

  “Well, you’re the Shakespearean expert, but I don’t think any of the tragic heroes spiraled to their downfall as a result of a lost mitten.”

  “No, I suppose you’re right.”

  “That’s too bad, though. They were a gift, right?”

  “Yes, I feel bad about that.”

  “Well, if a lost glove is your biggest concern, then I suppose you’re doing okay. I’ll see you in about half an hour. I’m meeting Daniel for coffee to make sure everything is fine with him.”

  Oh, he’s fine, I thought. Tired, but damn fine, indeed.

  Chapter 8

  Security

  …you all know, security

  Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.

  (Macbeth, Act III, Scene 5, Apocryphal)

  I FLOATED THROUGH MY THREE-HOUR SHIFT in a haze, visions of Daniel in his boxers distracting me from every task. At eleven thirty, I leafed through the few remaining items in the inbox. Anticipation tickled my stomach when I locked up for the lunch hour, and I was practically skipping by the time I reached the stairs.

  I was almost out the door when my phone alerted me to an incoming text message.

  Before you leave,

  head down to the basement. -D

  Wait, was Daniel down there waiting for me? I doubled back and dashed down the stairs to the Northrop Frye basement. As I reached the landing, the double doors to the underground passageway to Old Vic swung closed. Daniel was striding down the corridor. Was I supposed to follow him? My phone buzzed again.

  Look under the stairs.

  See you soon. -D

  So, he didn’t expect me to follow him. I continued to the basement and peeked under the stairs where I found a bag tucked underneath. I pulled it free and turned to sit on the bottom step. Inside the bag there was a large tissue-wrapped box with a Louis Vuitton logo on the top. Crap, now what was he up to? This was way more expensive than a calendar or a silly pair of mitts. There was a note from Daniel inside the box.

  Hi, sweetheart,

  I realize this is the second Monday in a row I’ve done this, but I wouldn’t want those delicious fingers getting cold as you walk across campus. I mean it, though-no more. God forbid I become predictable. ~D

  I separated the tissue and found a pair of gloves in a muted charcoal color, the back of one adorned with the signature LV logo. They were soft and woolen and lovely. I dug around in the tissue and found a Vuitton umbrella, another note tucked into the strap. All it said was:

  The weather’s been terrible round your parts. Thought you might need this.

  Round my parts! The note may have been cheeky, but the gift—not cheap by any stretch of the imagination—was proof that he wanted to spoil me. This was something I needed to get used to.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to sit and gawk at the gifts. I had to get to class—where I could sit and discreetly gawk at Daniel. I disposed of the packaging and stowed the umbrella in my knapsack. I hurried toward Queen’s Park where I could see Daniel ahead of me, about to cross University Avenue. I struggled to text while following the uneven path.

  Daniel! Louis Vuitton? Are you crazy?

  You know my track record! -A

  He replied almost instantly.

  I don’t care, sweetheart. You’re worth it.

  Do you like them? -D

  I think maybe I love them. -A

  And the umbrella? -D

  I love it, too.

  No doubt it’ll come in handy…

  maybe on Friday. -A

  Maybe, Aubrey? -D

  Definitely, Daniel…

  see you in 5 min. -A

  I pocketed my phone and put on the gloves, grinning like an idiot. By the time I got to class, my face was burning, not from being out in the cold, but from anticipation. It had only been a little over four hours since I’d said goodbye to him at Union Station, but I couldn’t wait to see his face again.

  Julie was already settled in her spot in our row when I arrived. Daniel sat at the front, leaning back in his chair. I couldn’t look at him now without images of his toned body in those blue boxers flashing before my eyes.

  “Hey,” Julie said as I shrugged out of my coat. “Wait, hold the phone!” She reached for my hand. “Are those Louis fucking Vuitton gloves? Since when can you afford those?”

  “Shh!” I shook my head, avoiding Daniel’s eyes.

  “Oh, I get it. Peace offering?” she asked quietly, glancing at Daniel, who was smiling at his notebook.

  “Something like that,” I whispered, stowing the gloves safely inside my knapsack.

  Professor Brown arrived and launched into a quick review lecture. My mind wandered, along with my eyes. I caught Daniel’s gaze several times, but as usual, he was masterful in his nonchalance, writing in his notebook and looking around the room.

  After about twenty minutes, Professor Brown assigned a couple of practice questions to work through with a partner in preparation for Friday’s test. Daniel circulated, reading people’s answers and offering suggestions for improvement. Julie and I pushed our desks closer together and veered off topic almost immediately.

  “Guess where I’m going after class,” she whispered.

  “I don’t know. Apartment hunting with Jeremy?”

  “Ha, not quite. I’m going to the clinic. To get a prescription.” She lifted one of her eyebrows.

  “I see. Things heating up in paradise?”

  “Just a smidge.”

  “I love smidges.”

  “Me too.” She covered her face with her hands to hide her telltale blush. Adorable, Julie. Simply adorable. “And tomorrow, he’s finally taking the plunge and going car shopping.”

  “That’s awesome! Tell him I said ‘safety first,’ okay?”

  Our conversation was cut short by Daniel walking up behind us. I felt his presence before he actually spoke—a strange warm buzzing in my stomach. He bent down between the two of us, peering at our notebooks.

  “Ladies, I don’t see much written here,” he said dryly.

  Julie tapped the side of her head. “It’s all up here, Daniel.”

  “Ah, I see. And you, Miss Price?”

  “Don’t worry about me, Daniel. I’ve got this bad boy locked up.”

  “Oh, you think so?” he said. “Don’t allow yourself to be lulled into a false sense of security.” Then he ben
t down to whisper, “I hear the guy who’s marking these is an uptight prick,” before moving off to the other side of the room.

  Oh, not anymore, he isn’t. I watched him lean over to take a look at Trina’s work, giving me a stellar view of his ass.

  Julie nudged me. “Subtle as a flying brick, baby doll.”

  “Right,” I said, quickly turning back to my notepad.

  “I gather things have improved since last week?” she whispered.

  “Just a smidge,” I said with a wink.

  When class came to a close, Julie packed up quickly. “I’d suggest coffee or something because I feel totally out of the loop with you, but I have to get to the clinic pronto.”

  “We’ll catch up later. Drop me an email or let’s chat online or something. I’ll be on my computer all night in PowerPoint hell. I’ll welcome the distraction, believe me.”

  I hugged her, and she dashed off, remarkably excited considering she was about to be violated by a cold, rubber-gloved hand. Daniel was at the front of the room, avoiding my eyes and doing the infamous three-paper shuffle. I was on the verge of going up to engage him in conversation about the test—anything so I could talk to him before he had to go downstairs—but I was stalled by a hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey, Aubrey, you’re feeling better, huh?”

  I turned around reluctantly. “Shawn, hey. Yeah, sorry I bailed on the frat party Friday. I wasn’t feeling up to it.”

  “Yeah, you weren’t there long. Too bad, ’cause you looked, well…really great.”

  Oh, please don’t do this.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daniel leave. I struggled to tear my eyes away from the sex swagger.

  Damn you, Shawn Ward.

  “Um, that’s nice, Shawn. I, um—” I mumbled, hoping to begin the painful process of letting him down easily.

  “Look, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said, interrupting my awkwardness. “See you on Wednesday?”

  “Sure.” I tried not to sound too relieved. “See ya then.”

  As I watched him leave the room, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I smiled gratefully as I answered.

  “Hello, there,” Daniel said smoothly. “Is there a damsel who needs rescuing?”

  “You’re about thirty seconds too late, but thanks for the intervention.”

  “Oh, don’t thank me. It was completely self-serving. Tell me I don’t have to worry about him.”

  “You don’t have to worry about him. You don’t have to worry about anyone.”

  “What an outstanding answer. I wish I could talk to you all day, but I’m about twenty meters away from a group of people who are desperate to wheedle hints out of me about Friday’s test. I’ll call you tonight?”

  “You’d better,” I said. “I have a PowerPoint marathon ahead of me. I need something to look forward to. Have a good tutorial.”

  I went back to Jackman, dreading my work, but once I got started, things quickly fell into place. When Daniel called at ten thirty, I was in the home-stretch, previewing the slideshow to check transitions. We chatted for an hour, talking about everything and nothing. We spent most of the time laughing. He was so frigging funny when he allowed himself to relax. I was tempted to call Patty to tell her the pole she was so worried about seemed to have completely vanished.

  No more than ten minutes after our phone call, I received a good night text from Daniel. All it said was:

  Forty-five. -D

  But only four till Friday…

  sweet dreams, sunshine. -A

  And no nightmares. I placed a large X through Monday, March 16th, on my calendar.

  I’d been in almost constant communication with Daniel throughout the week, but I couldn’t wait to be alone with him at his condo. Texting and talking to him on the phone every day had been wonderful. He’d been so playful all week, full of innuendo and flirtation—so much fun. But nothing was a match for spending time with him alone.

  And now that it was Thursday, all I could think about was that I’d be in Daniel’s arms the next day. Yeah, I was beyond excited. First, however, I had to get through my damn French presentation. I was well prepared for my part of the seminar, but my stomach was cramping with nerves, a sensation which worsened as I walked to Vic for my French class.

  As if he’d sensed my anxiety and knew I’d need a pep talk, Daniel was there waiting for me, resting against the Gatehouse wall. I wanted to run to him so he could scoop me up. Instead, I sauntered over, and he greeted me with a smile.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Price.”

  “Good afternoon, Daniel.”

  “T-minus seven minutes and counting. Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready but a bit nervous.”

  “You’ll do great. Can we chat after class? You’re done at three, right?”

  “Actually, my French lecture on Thursdays is an hour, and then I have a class at University College from three to five.”

  “God, you must be exhausted. Your schedule’s brutal.”

  “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

  “Well, can we talk for a few minutes before you head over to UC? There’s something I’d like to run by you. I’ll be in the reading room at the library.”

  “Pratt?”

  “Who are you calling a prat?”

  I rolled my eyes. “See you in an hour, Daniel.”

  “Good luck, Miss Price. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

  Daniel was right. I did do well. My entire group did. The professor spent most of the twenty-five minutes while we were presenting nodding his head and didn’t spend any time clarifying our points once we’d wrapped up, two sure signs we’d covered the material effectively.

  After class, we patted each other on the back and someone suggested a celebratory coffee at Starbucks, but I begged off, using my next class as an excuse. Instead I walked to the library where Daniel was waiting for me, sitting by the window. When he saw me approaching, he stood and moved toward the end of the stacks in the corner of the reading room. I followed.

  “How did it go?” he said once I’d caught up with him.

  “It was great. Everything ran like clockwork,” I whispered.

  “I knew it would. I’m glad the time you lost working on it on Sunday didn’t have any negative repercussions.” He paused for a moment. “I know you’re going to have trouble with this, but I got you something, and I’d really like you to accept it graciously.”

  He handed me a small envelope. I opened it and found a gift card for Holt Renfrew. I’d window shopped at Holt’s but never actually bought anything. It was out of my league entirely.

  “Why are you doing this, Daniel? I don’t need anything. You don’t have to spend your money on me to prove you care.”

  “That’s not why I’m doing it. It makes me happy. Anyway, I think you do need to buy a few things. I’m taking you away tomorrow night, if you’re okay with that.”

  “Taking me away? What do you mean? Where?”

  “I should have checked with you first, but I wanted to surprise you. You’ve worked so hard this week. I’ve booked us a chalet at a resort up north. It’s called Taboo. It used to be Muskoka Sands?”

  “I’m familiar with it. I mean, I’ve seen pictures…” I trailed off, embarrassed. Taboo was not the kind of vacation spot my mom and I would ever have been able to afford.

  “You don’t sound particularly interested.” His face fell.

  “It’s not that. I would have been fine with staying at your place, that’s all.”

  “I know, but I thought it would be nice to be far away from here so we can go out and have fun together. We can rent some cross-country skis and curl up by the fire. Find something redeeming about winter.” He smiled and rested his hand on the shelf beside us, close to my cheek but not quite close enough.

  “So, what’s this for?” I held up the gift card.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you could buy a dress, some new shoes. I’d like to take you out for dinner. And there’s an in
door pool and hot tub. Do you need a new bathing suit?” Now he looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, poppet. I want to spoil you. Please let me?”

  I sighed and turned the card over in my hand. There was no dollar amount on it.

  “Buy whatever you want, and they’ll bill me. That’s how I set it up. Will you do that for me? Please?”

  He looked at me beseechingly. God, how could I resist?

  “All right. You win. But I’m totally doing this under duress.”

  He smiled beatifically.

  “So, tomorrow—when would we leave?” I asked, feeling a glimmer of excitement despite my initial reluctance.

  “As soon as you’re able to get your things together after tutorial. You can take the subway up to Yorkdale, and I’ll pick you up there. If we leave by three, we can be up north in time to go out for dinner. Maybe we can ski on Saturday and be home after dinner. Penny’s expecting us on Sunday to help with painting, if you’re still interested.”

  “I see you’ve got this all planned.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said last Sunday—about hating winter. It’ll be beautiful up there with all the snow we’ve had this week. There’s supposed to be quite a snowfall tonight too.”

  I put the gift card in my pocket and zipped it up. “Okay, well, thank you. You’re very…generous,” I said, still not entirely comfortable.

  “One other thing—please don’t be frugal.”

  He knew me so well already.

  “That’s going to be hard. Frugal is hard-wired into my DNA.”

  “Do your best. For me?”

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  “So, um, what do you think about swimming up at Taboo, or at least checking out the hot tub?”