The Oldest Virgin In Oakdale. Wendy Warren

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СКАЧАТЬ copy of Neutrons in Motion, she flung the slim volume at him. Fortunately his reflexes were sharp, and the book glanced off his chin.

      “Hey!” Putting a hand to his jaw, he stared at Eleanor in disbelief. “For crying out loud, Teach! What are you trying to do, kill me or something?”

      “Sorry, I must have slipped. I was aiming at your thick skull!”

      Quickly Eleanor gathered her belongings and fled to the door. Through glasses fogged with tears, she gave him a last look. “And don’t call me ‘Teach’!”

      With the vehement command ringing in the air, she ran from the library.

      Seated on a bar stool in her kitchen, Eleanor crossed her arms on the counter and buried her face in them. “I can’t believe I said that!” She raised her head slightly to peer at her cat. “You may find this hard to believe, Gus, but Mama was a little awkward in high school.”

      Gus may have missed the irony in that revelation, but Eleanor couldn’t. Twelve years later she still felt like a blithering ninny around attractive men. Sighing, she sat up, rummaged in the bag from Yee’s and pulled out an egg roll, submerging it morosely in a container of plum sauce.

      Her relationship with Cole never had regained its footing after that day. She’d commanded herself to forget about him, to view the experience as an opportunity for learning. And she supposed she had learned a few things—like never to confuse fantasy with reality. Or respect with romance.

      If she was truly smart, she would stay home tomorrow night. She could swing by the bookstore on her way home from work, pick up a copy of Ten Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives, eat leftover Chinese food and go to bed early.

      “That’s what I ought to do.”

      She squeezed her eyes shut tight.

      It wasn’t what she was going to do.

      She’d acted like such a fool in her office today, stuttering and dropping things…

      “I can’t let that be his last impression of me,” she muttered, crumbling the egg roll between her tense fingers. “The man probably thinks I still have a crush on him.”

      She glanced at Gus, who gazed back critically.

      “Don’t look at me like that. I just want to close the door once and for all on an up note. I’m entitled to some dignity.”

      Bending, she scooped Gus into her arms. “This may be hard to grasp from your perspective, but at some point, Gus, a person has to decide whether she’s going to spend her whole life clucking like a chicken or roaring like a lion.”

      Gus meowed. Like a cat.

      “Very funny.”

      Eleanor decided to roar. Like a woman.

      Unfortunately, by 6:00 p.m. the following evening, there was a whole lot of clucking going on.

      In half an hour Cole would arrive at the clinic to pick up Sadie and to take Eleanor out to dinner, and Eleanor knew she couldn’t face it.

      So by 6:05 p.m. she’d talked herself out of the decision she’d made last night and into a new one. “I’m not going.”

      Ten minutes later, having completed her rounds in the kennel, she gathered her things and walked to the reception area.

      “I’m leaving, Chloe,” she told her assistant, striving for nonchalance while her heart beat hurry, hurry, hurry. “Mr. Sullivan will be here in—” unnecessarily, she checked her watch “—about fifteen minutes or so to pick up Sadie. I’d like you to bring her out to him and give him the postsurgical spiel.” Eleanor dug through her purse for her keys, avoiding eye contact with her perceptive receptionist. Palming her duties off on others was not her habit. “Sadie’s doing well, so she’ll just need to rest tonight, et cetera. Well, you know the routine, so I won’t worry about it. Okay. Goodbye.”

      Pitching a bland smile in Chloe’s general direction, she headed for the door. “Oh! Also,” she added in a poorly feigned afterthought, “would you tell Mr. Sullivan I’m very sorry, but I can’t make it tonight, after all? Something came up. Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

      “Hold it!” Chloe bounded around the front desk, planting her petite figure squarely in Eleanor’s path. “What? What are you saying? You have a date with that…that hunk tonight?”

      “Mr. Sullivan and I had plans, yes, but they were tentative, and—”

      Chloe’s jaw fell. “You couldn’t possibly be telling me you’re not going!”

      “Chloe,” Eleanor searched her meager experience for the best way to handle this. “Chloe, I don’t have time to explain.” According to her wristwatch, it was only ten minutes to liftoff; she had to jettison this mission while there was still time. “Just tell Mr. Sullivan that I forgot I had other plans.”

      Chloe closed her eyes, shook her head and tapped her ear as if she was certain she’d lost her hearing. “I must have misunderstood. A man who is living proof of a loving God asks you out and you have—” she drew quotation marks in the air “—‘other plans’? No.” Pressing her peach-tinted lips firmly together, she wagged her head. “I don’t think so.”

      Eleanor spoke as coolly as she could, given her urgency to flee. “I have other plans. They slipped my mind yesterday.”

      “Today is Wednesday,” Chloe argued. “Wednesdays are only egg foo yung night at Yee’s. You can miss egg foo yung.”

      Eleanor’s face grew hot. This is what comes from getting chummy with your employees. “I have other other plans tonight.”

      Chloe eyed her doubtfully. “Cancel them.”

      “No. Now I’m going. Just give him the message.”

      “But—”

      “Good night, Chloe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      Ignoring Chloe’s plea to discuss this further, Eleanor escaped the building and hopped into her Toyota.

      When she arrived home forty minutes later, she was carrying a bag from Yee’s Chinese Takeout, which she virtually slammed onto the kitchen counter. Gus leaped up, enthusiastically sniffed the bag, then hissed.

      “Szechwan eggplant,” Eleanor informed him grumpily. “You need a change.”

      Her mood was turning darker by the minute. Mr. Yee had greeted her tonight in his customary manner—with a big smile and a booming, “Hello, egg foo yung!” He never called her by name, anymore; he simply referred to her as the daily special.

      “I’m in a rut.”

      The feeling of dissatisfaction with her circumstances was unlike her. She was twenty-eight, owned her own town home and had a wonderful career. She had a frequent-diner punch card at Yee’s and a cat that liked egg rolls. What more did she need? Even with all the badgering her parents and Chloe had been doing about her social life, Eleanor hadn’t been discontent—until the day before yesterday. Already, Cole Sullivan’s reappearance in her life was wreaking havoc with СКАЧАТЬ