“Yeah? Like what?
“Like . . . how I was enjoying the job so far, and what sorts of things I liked to do, and whether or not I was seeing anyone.”
Caroline was quiet for a moment, and then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Daisy,” she said.
“What?” I asked when she didn’t say anything after that.
“Daisy. I love you; you know this. But sometimes you can be so dense! Especially when it has to do with men! He is interested in you!”
I felt my heartbeat accelerate when she said that and a warmness rise in my cheeks. If I were to look in the mirror right now, my face would probably be red.
“I don’t think so,” I said, glad that we were just talking on the phone and not in person. Did my voice sound different? Did I sound a little . . . giddy? I cleared my throat. “You should see what he looks like, Caro. He’s gorgeous. Like, he totally fit into the scene at The Knock; me, not so much.”
“That’s bullshit, and he obviously is interested in you if he took you out and is asking you all these questions! Why else would he be doing all this? There’s no other reason.”
She sounded so sure of herself that I could almost believe her. Part of me wanted to believe her. But another part of me didn’t want to have anything to do with any guy, not after the way thing with Noah had gone.
“And I know what you’re thinking,” Caroline continued, “I know that you’re thinking that you don’t want to do this because you don’t want him to turn out to be some psycho like Noah was, but I’m telling you—not all guys are like that.”
I smiled. “Well . . . yeah, that is kind of why I don’t want to think too hard about this. Also, I just can’t really fathom the idea how someone like that could be interested in me. He’s older, too.”
“Like how much?”
“I don’t know—probably in his thirties. I can ask Jonathan.”
“That’s hot. Holy shit, I’m so excited for you! I want to meet him.”
“You can. Just not yet, maybe. I don’t know what is going on, but I cannot remember ever feeling like this toward someone. And I just met him, which is the crazy thing.”
“Sometimes it happens that way,” Caroline said. “Consider yourself lucky.”
The next morning, I was up well before my alarm, and I didn’t feel the least bit hung over. I was too excited to get to work to see Ian, but when I arrived at the office, he wasn’t there. Jonathan was, though, and he smiled when he saw me and asked me how last night had gone.
“It was fun,” I said. “You’ll have to come with us next time.”
His face lit up. “Yeah! I’d love to. Maybe the two of us could go somewhere.”
I looked toward the door, wondering when Ian would be showing up. “Hey,” I said. “How old is Ian?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I was just curious.”
“Oh.” The look on Jonathan’s face was hard to read; maybe a little perplexed. Was it a weird thing to ask?
“I was just . . . um . . . people’s ages are interesting to me.” I cringed inwardly. That sounded so lame.
“You don’t know how old I am,” he said.
“You’re right; I don’t. How old are you?”
“Do you want to guess?”
“Sure. Let’s see . . .” I gazed at his face, taking in the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, the clump of gray hair that had started to grow in amongst the light brown hair right above his ears. He was in good shape, though, and his eyes had this sort of youthful quality to them. “Twenty-eight?” I said, deliberately shaving a few years off what I really thought.
His face lit up when I said it. “Thirty-four.”
“Wow,” I said. “You don’t look thirty-four at all.”