by Lorin Grace
Mandy: Photo?
Candace: Sorry. A photo won’t do these flowers justice.
Tessa: Has he ever sent you flowers before?
Candace: No. But they were just a way of saying congrats. But since he is also taking me out to dinner, unnecessary.
Abbie: Flowers are never unnecessary.
Candace: I’d better get ready.
Mandy: Have fun at dinner.
Candace checked her makeup in the mirror and reapplied eyebrow pencil. She must have rubbed some of it off during the drive. She was already wearing one of her natural colored wigs since she didn’t know who she might meet looking at the warehouse, and spiky pink hair or a plumb bob wasn’t always the best first impression. Colin hadn’t taken her out before, at least not alone. He wasn’t paralyzed in social situations; however, he probably didn’t need people staring at her hair and then at him. She was used to the stares, although the last couple years as more women colored their hair in tones of blue and crimson, fewer strangers stopped to look. However, Colin shunned attention, and so she kept the plain wig on.
The doorbell rang, and Candace’s heart sped up. She took a calming breath, telling herself it was silly to get worked up over Colin.
Colin smoothed the front of his plaid shirt—not too laid back like his favorite T-shirts, yet it didn’t require a tie. Finding his hands were sweaty, he was shoving them into his jean pockets to wipe them off just as Candace answered the door. She wore the same understated wig she had at Tessa’s wedding.
“Come in.”
Part of the hallway was blocked by a giant display of flowers. He carefully edged around them.
“Thank you for the flowers. Would you help me move them over by the window?”
“I sent you these?”
Candace raised one painted brow at him. “The card was signed, or rather typed, ‘Colin.’ So I assume they are from you. Didn’t you order them?”
“Sabrina did.”
“Is there something I should know about Sabrina?”
“She is the AI I told you I was working on.” Sabrina was in for some serious reprogramming.
“The home-helper thing? Sorry to say this, but I think she failed this task. Or she is trying to send one of us a message.” Candace smiled and pointed to the other side of the arrangement. “Lift that side. Let’s put it to the right of the sliding door.”
“I haven’t programmed Sabrina with any dark humor, so I am hoping it was just a misunderstanding.”
“At least she got the color right, and it does smell nice.”
Her smile didn’t make him feel any better about the blunder. Even he would have chosen something that didn’t look like a funeral spray. “I’m sorry. I meant it to be more like the ones Daniel sent Mandy after the internet blew up with the dating stuff.”
“Those flowers were impressive. But I like what you sent.”
“You don’t need to make me feel better about the mistake.” Colossal blunder. Colin wanted to knock himself in the head. Funeral flowers. After their conversation on the plane, he had been stupid enough to let Sabrina order the flowers. Even a bridal bouquet would have been better.
“I’m not, unless it turns out this job doesn’t work for me. Then I would have to call it a sign.”
“I’m really sorry. I can get you something else.” Next time he would just order a dozen roses. Even an AI couldn’t get that wrong. But the wrong color could send a message that would be worse than funeral arrangements. No wonder Daniel used to have Bonnie order flowers for him. It would be worth the consulting fee to order the right flowers next time.
Candace patted his arm. “They wouldn’t be nearly as memorable. But there are some things you might not want to leave to your AI.”
“I tried to ask for dinner recommendations, and Sabrina—” He couldn’t tell her about the date recipes or she would know this was a date.
“Recommended the golden arches?”
His phone vibrated. “Something like that. Are you ready? My chauffeur is downstairs.”
Candace nodded.
Colin wasn’t sure if he should offer her his arm since this was a date, but he decided against it. His palms were sweaty again anyway. He hoped the evening wouldn’t get any worse than the funeral flowers.
Mr. Alexander stood in the lobby, his muscled arms bulging under his short-sleeved polo shirt, a frown on his face. Alexander Hastings, Alex to his friends and Mr. to his clients, headed Daniel Crawford’s security team.
Candace stopped short. “Is something wrong, Alex?”
“Nothing we can’t solve. Mr. Crawford informed me Mr. Ogilvie forgot to put a security detail in place for his night out. Where were you planning on going?”
Colin mumbled the name of the restaurant like a teenage boy caught sneaking out his window. A security detail was an everyday occurrence for most billionaires, but Colin wasn’t most. His reclusive lifestyle meant he spent most of his time at home or in the office. Any social events he attended were usually in the company of Daniel, who had a full detail at all times. Work-related events were handled by the office, and his mother’s people dealt with family things. Candace must think he was a dork not to have even thought about it.
“At least you chose someplace easy. Tell your driver to take the long route to give me time to get there.” Alex opened the door to the stairwell and had descended half the steps to the parking garage before the door shut behind him.
“I am a bit rusty at this go-to-the-food thing. I usually just order in.” Colin waited while Candace got into the car. “I guess I need to remember to tell someone my plans.”
“I’ve only seen you out with Daniel and his team. Do you even have a head of your personal security?”
“I must. I just have never thought about it.” He leaned forward to talk to the driver. “Jim, do I have a head of security?”
“You have me, sir. For most of your activities I am enough, but I can’t call in full detail. That must be requested from Hastings.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Colin sat back. “I guess I do.”
Candace laid her hand on his arm. Every hair stood at attention. “I am glad you don’t have to spend too much time worrying about it.”
Maybe they could skip the restaurant. Sitting in the back seat with Candace was enough for him. And he wouldn’t have to worry about a security detail or the other people at the restaurant. Next time he would choose something much less public. Only that might not be a good idea. Hadn’t he read something about a woman’s need to be seen publicly with a man? It didn’t matter how much Nick or Daniel had helped him, the sense of impending doom that Colin would mess up this dating attempt followed him into the restaurant.
eight
Saturday afternoon, Candace turned the thermostat at Art House to sixty degrees. It was the last thing on her to-do list to close the place for the winter. Closing the house just as fall semester started seemed just as surreal as her date two nights ago with Colin. He hadn’t called it a date. Neither of them had, but it felt like one. Butterflies in the stomach, awkward moments of silence during the meal. The uncomfortable moment as he dropped her off at her apartment before she gave him a friendly hug.
She grabbed her purse off the kitchen table—the table where they’d met a year and a half ago or so by video call. She had immediately felt a zing of attraction for the nerdy guy with the glasses, which he hadn’t been wearing as often lately. With Mandy dating his best friend and business partner, Colin had been quickly removed from her list of possible guys to date. He was too close to Daniel, and she would end up seeing Colin again and again. An awkward situation she preferred to avoid. It was about the time she realized the folly of part of her bucket list and stopped dating guys just so she could get to number ten. But did she want the other night to be a date? If so, was s
he admitting she had a future? Too many questions and not enough answers.
Candace did one last walk through to make sure she hadn’t missed anything she might need in Chicago. Even though she’d be only three hours away, she didn’t want to be running back and forth constantly. She turned off the last light and shut the door as a sadness she couldn’t quite identify welled up in her. Although the Art House would always be a significant part of her life, she felt she would never be a major part of the house’s history again.
The alarm beeped after Candace keyed in the enabling code. Mandy had insisted on having Hastings security add a few measures to monitor the empty house and help it not look so empty, which included hiring a lawn service. She would miss raking leaves in a couple weeks, but not picking up the black walnut shells or shoveling the snow after one of Northern Indiana’s storms. The nice thing was that she could come back whenever she wanted and the house would be ready. Candace had argued with Mandy over who was going to foot the bill and cost after Mandy paid it a year in advance.
There was barely enough room in the car for Candace to sit and be able to see out the rearview mirror. Dawdling any longer would only get her stuck in Chicago’s rush hour, so she cut across Northern Indiana using some of the back roads, passing a couple horse-drawn carts laden with hay bales outside Goshen. She was within a couple of miles of the farm she’d grown up on. Her uncle now owned the land that had been passed down from generation to generation of Wilsons. Some of the earliest settlers had come to Indiana shortly after the War of 1812. Candace didn’t stop, knowing it was impossible to stay for only five minutes where her aunt was concerned. Zoe’s mother would, no doubt, have some new story she’d learned about some ancestor that would take twice as long to tell as the actual occurrence. Candace would rather wait until Thanksgiving, when Zoe would also be there to listen to family lore.
As always, the traffic congestion near Chicago slowed her journey. In the year since Mandy had moved there, Candace had made the trip dozens of times. But this was the first time she found her stomach full of butterflies. She was starting a new project, although she hadn’t made a new plan. Yet this project was at least a year commitment. In the past six months she had turned down several projects because the commitments would have taken her too far past the end of her ten-year plan. Maybe she should do as Reverend Cavanagh advised and plan on living. She was turning a corner—of that she was sure. Bucket-list items filled her mind, though most of them weren’t as exciting as they should have been. Reading fifty-two books over the next year was one of her favorites. She’d never been much of a reader, but Araceli’s love of books inspired her. She could start by reading the books her roommates had chosen to signal the others they would be using the loft above the library and were not to be disturbed. Dubbed “Lover’s Loft” by one of her first roommates, it had been most recently used to make long-distance phone calls by both Tessa and Araceli.
Her thoughts turned to the other items she had contemplated. The bucket-list goal she’d made when she was sixteen of kissing a new guy every year had missed the mark—a deeper connection she hadn’t realized she could or should make until she’d watched her roommates this past year with their boyfriends, now husbands. Instead of choosing a number of men to kiss, she vowed to never kiss another man she didn’t have a deep connection with.
At the moment, there was only one man who might be a candidate. Colin. And it seemed she was trying to be a candidate too. Of course, the bouquet he had given her the night of the congratulatory dinner would have looked more at home in a funeral parlor than it did next to the window in her apartment. She smiled. Only Colin would let his household AI order flowers without giving the computer proper parameters.
Her cell rang an old Barry Manilow song. It had been a joke to use Mandy’s namesake song, as their friendship had nothing in common with the love ballad. The song drove Mandy crazy. Candace answered it through the car system.
“Hey, when will you be here?”
“I am only two miles away, but traffic is moving slowly.”
“Okay, I have pizza and some help—in the form of Abbie and her brothers, Daniel, and Colin. We should have you unloaded in ten minutes or less.”
“Sounds like a party.” Candace wasn’t sure she wanted witnesses to her move. Her mind raced through the boxes and bags in her car. She was pretty sure anything unmentionable was out of sight. Only one box might be a problem, but she should be able to quickly get it in her laundry basket.
“We’ll see you in a few. Just send me a text when you get into the garage.”
“Will do.”
The attendant nodded as she opened the gate to the underground garage. As soon as she parked, she hopped out and popped the trunk. The box of unmentionables sat next to her large suitcase. She’d just finished rearranging when her friends poured out of the elevator bay.
Mandy balanced Joy on her hip. “You were supposed to text.”
“I was just making sure all my girly things were not out in the open.”
Both Mandy and Colin reddened at the comment.
“So is it safe to unload?” asked Abbie.
“If it isn’t, just close your eyes and pretend you didn’t see anything.”
The Hasting brothers had a couple of dollies with them. In just one trip, the friends managed to unload everything she’d spent hours packing into the car.
Candace would be far from lonely living alone for the first time in her life. Looking around the room at all her friends eating pizza, a glimpse of life beyond Art House flickered in her heart. Five-year reunions would be a necessity. She could do a five-year plan.
“Sabrina, what is today?”
“Today is Thursday, September 20. You have two projects overdue. One, beta testing of app version number seven on project Abbie. Two, take Candace on a second date. Would you like suggestions?”
“No, thank you.” 532 days. He was not going to take any advice from the AI who’d ordered the flowers for Candace. Alex had knocked them over when they were moving Candace into the apartment, and the whole embarrassing story had come out. Daniel offered lessons on choosing flowers. Candace jumped to his defense, but it hadn’t kept him from wishing he was alone in his apartment. Well, alone with Candace.
He had no idea what to do. In desperation, he texted Nick.
Help—need a date idea for Candace.
—Have you been to the theater?
No, I don’t have any idea what movie to take her to.
—Not a movie theater. Plays or musicals.
Like Les Mis?
—Like that, and don’t forget the tickets for the security detail.
Hey, it was a first date.
—At least you are relatively unknown. I can never forget them.
It is taking some getting used to. Hastings had assigned Andrew to him. The youngest of the brothers was easy to get along with and seemed to understand Colin’s introvert tendencies.
—How does Candace deal with security? I think mine freaked Zoe out a bit.
She knows the Hastings security team better than I do. So not a problem. Any suggestions on shows?
—Wicked, Hamilton—any of the classics. Check reviews. Some shows get explicit or have onstage nudity.
Really? I thought it was all Sound of Music stuff.
—Have you asked Daniel’s old secretary, the one who was playing grandma at the wedding, for dating advice?
Good idea. Later.
Colin dialed Bonnie’s number.
“Colin? Is something wrong?”
“Not really. I just need help with a date.” This was only slightly less embarrassing than calling his mother.
“With Candace?” The surprise in her voice was poorly masked.
“Yes, my friend suggested the theater, but—”
“W
hen do you want to go?”
“This weekend?”
“You know the popular shows sell out weeks in advance, don’t you?”
“They do?”
“Let me take care of it. Two-person security team as well?”
“Is that what Daniel did?”
“Yes. Have you asked her?”
“No?”
Bonnie’s laughter filled the phone. “Give me an hour, and I’ll text you. Then you can ask. Anything else?”
“Did you hear about the funeral flowers?”
“A little bird may have said something about them. Next time take her a single pink rose. Work your way up to red.”
The advice was exactly what he was looking for. “Thanks, Bonnie.”
“Only for you, but don’t make a habit of it, okay?”
“No problem.” He disconnected and prepared himself one of Janie’s meals while he waited.
“Sabrina—best ways to ask a woman on a date?”
“According to the first article, a man should avoid the D word.”
“Sabrina, D?”
“Date.”
“Sabrina, how do you ask someone out for a date without saying date?”
“That search returned no results.”
“Sabrina, search tips for asking a woman out.”
“One: be confident. Two: call, don’t text. Three: be clear you are asking her out.”
Well, that wasn’t very helpful. So much easier to be confident when texting and being vague.
“Sabrina, turn on the Hearthfire channel.”
Perhaps he could find some inspiration. But he had already seen this one. Not his situation at all.