She might have stood there beaming all day, hugging the flowers, but Nick looked over to where Nathan stood in the doorway.
Cass made introductions. “Um, Nick. This is Nathan Pauli. Nathan, Nick May.”
They shook hands. Enthusiastically, Nick said, “I’m a big fan of yours.”
Which was awfully surreal.
“Good to meet you. Hey Frank, can you go get a couple cups of coffee?” Nathan gestured to the back office. Crestfallen, Frank made a show of how hard it was to leave his desk. “Thanks. Stacy, don’t you have some e-mail to check or something?”
Nathan managed to herd them all back and close the door. “So, Mr. May. You ever think of trying your hand at acting on-location?”
Nick smiled and breathed a little sigh. “I was hoping I could talk to you about that. After I talked to Cass and all.”
“Let’s go back to my office. Nobody’ll listen through the door there.” He opened the door, almost knocking Stacy over.
Cass stayed behind as they headed for Nathan’s office. Nick looked back and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Maybe she did have pull around here. And the flowers said he wasn’t just using her for her influence. Right? Cass touched her cheek to the petals.
The only thing she could find to put the flowers in was a plastic super-size cup from a fast food place, so worn out she couldn’t read the logo. She set the bouquet on her desk and tried to make it look nice.
They were in Nathan’s office talking for two hours. Stacy found every excuse she could to wander back there—fetching a file, consulting a storyboard. She pestered Cass, but Cass ignored her.
Finally, the door opened. Nick’s steps were almost bouncing as he left the office.
He scanned the room, found Cass, and went straight to her, crouching by her desk.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Well,” he said with a shrug, but his smile belied him. “He’s going to talk to my agent. We’ll see. So—are you doing anything tonight?”
Monday night. Could she go on a date on a Monday night? Had she ever been on a date on a Monday night?
Was Nick May asking her out on a date?
“Nope,” she said and bit her lip.
“Can I take you to dinner?”
“Sure.”
“Seven?”
“Okay.”
“Can I pick you up at your place?”
“Okay.” She was blushing horribly. “I’ll upload directions for you.”
“Great. See you then.”
And off he went, leaving Cass to not get much work done.
“The secret to miniature golf,” Nick explained to her on their third date, a Saturday afternoon at Americana World, “is the distractions. All the windmills and moving parts and bright colors and stuff don’t have anything to do with the play. They’re just distractions to mess up your shot.”
“Have you learned the secret to ignoring the distractions?”
Distractions, right. Three teenage girls at the next hole over kept pointing at them. Cass could hear their whispers. “I think that’s really him!”