Wedding Vows: Just Married. Nancy Warren

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      He breathed what seemed to her to be a sigh of relief. “Me neither. I am so happy we both like books. At least we’ll have something to talk about.”

      She turned to him, not even realizing she still held the spatula. The connection she’d felt the first time she saw him was only strengthened by his words and she felt a rush of understanding. “I know exactly what you mean. Isn’t that the worst part? Sitting there, racking your brain for something to say? And my mind always goes blank when I start to panic. I’ll blurt out something ridiculous.” He smiled at her and she suddenly recalled her brilliant conversational repartee of yesterday when she’d told a man she’d never met before that he could be a spy because he looked so innocuous. She supposed she didn’t need to tell him another word about her little problem with blurting out the strangest things.

      “Have you ever tried online dating?”

      “No. I’d never have the courage.” Her eyes widened in awe. “Have you?”

      “Yes. I decided that mathematically it made sense to widen the scope of potential females as far as possible since I only meet a very narrow selection of women in my daily life.”

      “Impressive logic. How did it work?”

      “Well, let’s see, over the last four months I’ve gone on approximately twenty-five first dates.”

      “Twenty-five first dates?” Her eyes widened.

      “Mmm-hmm. A few of them progressed to second dates, but nothing felt quite right.”

      “I don’t know how you had the guts to keep going.”

      “I’m tenacious that way. Once I’ve determined on a course, I try to continue until I’ve achieved success or accepted that success is not possible. It’s important not to give up too soon.”

      “Wow. Did you meet nice women?”

      “Yes. Quite a few. It’s how I met Karen.”

      She gestured wildly. “Get out of here. Karen went through with it? She tried online dating?” With a cry of horror she realized she’d swiped his neat blue and white striped tie with a slash of red icing gel. It looked like the tie had tried to slit its own throat.

      They both looked down, but she was the one who gasped.

      “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

      He continued as though the disaster had never taken place. “And through Karen, I met you.”

      He swiped his finger over the red gel on his tie and sucked the red goo off his finger. “I’d say it worked quite well.”

      “I’ve ruined your tie,” she cried, holding her palms to her cheeks.

      “Yes, you have. Let me know when you finish that book and we’ll go for coffee.” And he left looking surprisingly happy for a man wearing a suicidal tie.

       16

      WHEN KAREN WALTZED into the kitchen, Laurel experienced a pang of uneasiness. She’d finished The Thirty-Nine Steps and was getting together with Ron Saturday morning for their promised coffee to talk about the book. But she only had his word for it that Karen and he were friends. She’d heard of men who used Internet dating to pull together their own personal harems.

      Not that she could imagine Ron with a harem, but then how well did she know him?

      Karen was in full business mode and checking timing on the various cakes that Laurel was making for her over the next two months. After they’d finished confirming delivery dates, she said, “Um, there’s something I need to tell you.”

      Karen grabbed at her arm. “Oh, God. You look guilty. Please don’t tell me you’re leaving. I can’t take it. Really. Your cakes are so spectacular, you’re part of our success.”

      “No,” she said, half laughing. “It’s nothing to do with my cakes. I’m really happy here.”

      “Oh, that is such a relief.” Karen slapped a hand over her heart. Her manicure was perfect. Laurel really should think about getting one of those. She imagined her fingernails with that shiny pink finish, then couldn’t. She wasn’t the nail polish type. “I’ve finally got my dream team, I can’t bear to lose one of you.”

      “It’s more, um, personal.” She looked down and suddenly wished she hadn’t opened this conversation. She had no idea how to explain herself and felt foolish even trying.

      “You can trust me,” Karen said gently. “If you’re in any kind of trouble…” The hand on her arm was both warm and soothing.

      “Oh, I’m being stupid. It’s nothing. Only Ron asked me out and then he said you and he… And I don’t want to do anything you wouldn’t feel comfortable with, because I am so happy here and…” Her voice petered out and she continued to stare at the floor until she couldn’t stand it anymore and raised her gaze.

      But Karen didn’t look at all angry. More stunned. She said, “You and Ron?” the way a person might say “ice cream and horseradish?” As though the two things couldn’t possibly belong together. “You’re surprised?”

      “Well, yes, to be honest. You don’t seem like you’d have a lot in common.”

      “We both like spy novels. And he has such nice eyes.”

      “Yes, he does.” She tapped her pretty pink nails against her binder. “Wow.”

      Laurel couldn’t gauge what “wow” meant. “So, are you okay with that?”

      The wedding planner seemed miles away. She came back with a start. “Oh, absolutely. Ron and I met through a dating site but we had absolutely no spark. I think he’s a very nice man and he’s a talented accountant and I think we’re becoming friends, but we’re definitely not dating. I’ve hired him to do some work for us.”

      “Okay then, that’s good.”

      “You and Ron. Who should know better than a wedding planner that opposites attract.” She shook her head. “You’ll have to tell me how your coffee date goes.”

      “How did you know we’re having coffee?”

      “That’s how he always starts a relationship.” Then as Laurel’s eyes widened she hastily added, “At least, that’s what he told me. It’s not like I know him intimately or anything.” She cleared her throat, obviously embarrassed. “Because, in case you’re wondering, there was no, you know, between us.”

      Laurel was insensibly cheered by this news. Not that it was any of her business, obviously, if Ron and Karen, who had met before she’d ever met Ron, had hooked up. Still, she was glad they hadn’t. She couldn’t imagine how weird it would be to have sex with a man who’d also slept with a colleague who was the closest thing she had to a boss. Not that she was thinking of having sex with Ron. The very idea had her thinking as muddled as one of her crazy icing color experiments that failed.

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