Her Heart's Desire
The younger woman tilted her head to the side. “Are you sure it’s not the man installing it that’s got you so happy?”
“Don’t be silly.” Tiffany tried to sound stern, but failed miserably. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “He’s simply doing a favor for a mutual friend. Nothing more.”
“Sure he is.”
In truth, Tiffany hardly believed her own words, either. The second his hand touched hers at the café, a spark had flickered inside. The prospect of seeing him again was exciting, but grinning from ear to ear would blow her cover. She started to tell herself that he was a regular guy, but stopped. Not for one second was Ivan Mangum a regular anything.
Tiffany decided to call Milán to get a second opinion. The moment she answered, Tiffany whispered into the receiver, “I’ve got a dilemma.”
“What’s his name?”
Tiffany hesitated. She was about to step off a precipice, and when she did, there was no going back. With a deep breath, she said, “It’s…Ivan Mangum.”
“You mean the—”
“Yes.”
“With the—”
“Yes,” she interjected again. “But you can’t tell Jeannie, Milán.”
“Why not?”
“Are you kidding? If she hears that I find Ivan as delectable as a Krispy Kreme doughnut, she’ll be all over me like cling wrap to stake my claim on him.”
“And what’s wrong with that? You should snap him up before someone else notices that he’s single, attractive and a good guy.”
“Yeah about that—don’t you find it odd that he’s even available?” Tiffany countered. “Maybe he’s got seven kids in four different citi
es, or he’s commitment-shy?”
“Tiff, has it ever occurred to you that he could be single for the same reasons you are? Need I remind you of Adrian and me?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I get it. Maybe nothing’s wrong with him, and he’s single for no good reason…”
“It’s possible he hasn’t found the right person—just like you.”
Tiffany sighed. “Okay, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“I’m glad. And you will be, too.”
“We’ll see.”
“So how long do you think it’ll take Norma Jean to figure out you like Ivan?”
“There’s no way I’m telling her anytime soon.”
“Trust me, if she gets a whiff of attraction, she’ll ply you with questions until you crack and spill the beans—I’ve been there. And if she sees you and Ivan together…”
With a gasp, Tiffany said, “That can’t happen, Milán, I mean it. Under no circumstances is Norma Jean to find out that I think of Ivan as anything but the guy who’s installing my security system.”
“It’s not me you have to worry about, chica,” Milán said.
She was right. Adrian’s mother had X-ray vision when it came to seeing what people didn’t want revealed, and her inconvenient habit of not being able to say Ivan’s name without smiling would be as noticeable as a flare shot into the sky. “Let’s face it, I’m screwed.”
“Don’t say that,” Milán admonished. “You’ll be fine. Besides, Norma Jean won’t be there Wednesday.”
“True,” Tiffany said with relief. “I don’t know what the heck’s wrong with me. Normally, I’m unflappable.”