Caroline: One of these days we should make up a wild story, set her straight. I’ll come by at six, give you the shoes PERSONALLY :-)
My imagination is already running amok. We were wild... and so good together. So damn good that I still beat myself up over letting her go.
Shoving the phone back in my pocket, I cook up a plan. My sister might have set this up, but I plan to take thorough advantage of my time with Caroline.
Chapter Three
Caroline
The next evening, I pull in front of Dad’s house fifteen minutes too late for our dinner. He lives in the same modest two-bedroom unit where I grew up, in the Excelsior district. I’ve always loved my parents’ house. When Mom was alive, the boxes under the bay windows were adorned with cranesbills. In their absence, an air of sadness hangs over the house, the chipping light-green paint standing out. It doesn’t help that the sky is terribly gloomy, even for a late-September day.
The door swings open before I even ring. “Here’s my girl. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m late.” Stepping inside, I hold up the bag of donuts. “Left the school too late and took forever to make these.”
“I made stew,” Dad informs me as we make our way to the dining room. He already set the table. Placing the donuts at one end, I fill both our plates with stew before sitting down.
“Followed your mother’s recipe to a T,” he says with pride.
Yeah... except Mom’s had tasted delicious, and this one reminds me of the canned soups I ate in college. But I dutifully eat the entire plate. I offer to bring dinner as often as possible, but don’t have the heart to tell him his talents don’t lie in the kitchen. He already has a hard time looking after the house and running the bookstore by himself. I don’t want to make him feel as if he can’t even get this one little thing right.
“How are the renovations coming along, Dad?”
“We’re ahead of schedule. I’ll be able to open up much quicker than I thought.”
Between the popularity of online shopping and the competition from large chains, my parents’ bookstore has been struggling for some time. It didn’t help that the place had looked new around the time when Bush senior was in office. A few months ago, Dad finally agreed it needed a thorough makeover. He’s adding a small coffee shop too, the idea being to offer customers an experience, not just a point of transaction. We came up with this plan with the help of Dad’s bank adviser.
“By the way, I’ve asked Daniel to look over the business plan.”
“Daniel Bennett?”
Dad smiles. “Don’t know any other Daniel. And the man’s got a brilliant business mind. He made some good points. He says the improvements will turn things around, bring more of a profit.”
Daniel is running a successful business. If anyone’s advice counts, it’s his. My talents lie in teaching little kids, not running a business, though this didn’t keep me from committing most of my savings to the bookstore’s renovation.
Daniel was close to my parents while we dated. He was always attentive—bringing flowers to Mom, chatting with Dad about his favorite soccer team. When Mom died last year, Daniel was here for us, and so was the rest of his family. I grew close to them again, especially his mother and sisters. I was friends with them back in college, but I pulled slightly away after we broke up. I had no idea he and Dad were still in contact.
Hmm... I could ask Dad more on the topic, but he’s been channeling the Bennett sisters lately, throwing not-so-subtle hints about Daniel and me. I’ll just ask the man himself when I see him.
We talk about my brother next. Niall lives in Dublin, practicing neurosurgery. He’s the only family member who isn’t Daniel’s fan, possibly because he had a front seat at a few of my post breakup crying sessions.
I first met Daniel and Blake in our freshman year at college. The twins and I had an almost instant friendship over our dislike of the campus food and people who called San Francisco “Frisco.” We bonded over endless talks about our families. The twins were sort of a substitute for my brother, who I missed like crazy. Blake at least. Daniel... eh, different story.
I wasn’t immune to his charms from the very beginning. My pulse raced a little too frantically, my skin flushed too much when I was around him, and I put more stock in his compliments than anyone else’s. In the beginning, I tried to convince myself it was a normal reaction, because well... Daniel was tall, strong, and exceptionally good-looking. But Blake was all those things too, and he’d never affected me that way.
I can remember exactly the moment things between Daniel and me shifted from the friendship zone. The three of us were headed to a party on campus at the beginning of our senior year, and the boys had come to pick me up. Neither of us had a date, but upon entering my apartment, Blake immediately started charming my new roommate, convincing her to join us.
Daniel and I waited in the doorway, sizing each other up.
“Looking sexy tonight,” he said.
“You clean up well too.”
We’d exchanged similar words maybe a million times before. But it was the millionth and first time that did it. Maybe it was the way Daniel had leaned in when he’d said it; maybe it was the way I’d drawn a sharp breath, bit my lip, Daniel’s eyes following my every reaction. Then he’d leaned in even closer, so close I could smell him. Sandalwood and sea. It was the cologne I’d given him the previous Christmas.
“Maybe I should be your date tonight,” he whispered, his hot breath landing on my cheek.
“Maybe I want you to.” I said it in a playful tone and added a gentle jab with my elbow to his stomach. He winked, pulled away, but we both knew the game we were playing. We both pretended we were joking, but we both knew we were not.