Nerds Are From Mars (5 page)

“Nothing wrong with that. I – oof!” Nolan was knocked sideways as someone in a Darth Vader outfit rammed right into him. “Hey, watch where you’re going, buddy!”

“Sorry, man. Hard to see in this outfit.” The guy patted Nolan’s chest. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Nolan straightened his jacket. “You might want to walk slower if you can’t see.”

“Right. I will.” He continued down the hallway at the same rapid clip.

“That costume
is
hard to see out of,” Bill said. “But that was partly because I couldn’t wear my glasses under the helmet and I was blind as a bat.”

Nolan worked hard not to laugh at the idea of Bill Jenson, who couldn’t be more than five-six, dressed as the
Star Wars
arch villain. “You were Vader?”

“In fifth grade. I grew before the other guys and then I stopped. But in fifth grade, I was a giant. An extremely near-sighted giant.”

“You’re still a mental giant.”

Bill chuckled. “And that’s why I hang out with you, Bradbury, because you pump up my ego. Speaking of that, what are you doing for dinner tonight?”

“As it happens, I have a date.” Thoughts of Darcie made his pulse rate climb.

“Do you, now? Anybody I know?”

“No, she’s an old friend from high school.” As they walked into the banquet room, he searched for a couple of empty seats. “That table in the far corner looks promising.”

“Yeah, that’ll do.”

Nolan threaded his way between the tables and they claimed two empty chairs.

Once they were seated, Bill turned to him. “Is this somebody you dated in high school?”

“That’s the odd thing. I had a huge crush on her, but she wouldn’t give me the time of day. Then she showed up at my session this morning.”

“The brunette in the purple blouse who was waiting to talk to you?”

“Yep. Her name’s Darcie Ingram.” He glanced at Bill. “I’m really not sure why she’s here, either.”

Bill smiled. “I am. When women are younger, they go for the bad boys, but when they’re ready to settle down, they look for the steady guys with jobs who’ll be a good father to their children, aka the nerds like us. At least that’s what Gretchen tells me, and when it comes to female thinking, I defer to my wife.”

“Huh. So you think Darcie’s husband hunting?” Nolan wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t like the idea of being the guy someone settled for after they’d sown their wild oats, but on the other hand, if he ended up with a woman like Darcie, maybe he shouldn’t quibble about the journey she’d taken to finally get to his doorstep.

“I wouldn’t want to ascribe motives when I don’t even know the lady.” Bill picked up a pitcher of salad dressing and poured a liberal amount on his plate of greens. “I will say she’s pretty.”

“Yep.”

“Do you still like her?” Bill passed him the dressing.

“Who wouldn’t?” He doused his salad with dressing. “She’s gorgeous and intelligent.”

“And you’re an extremely eligible bachelor. Gretchen keeps asking me if she can fix you up, but I’ve fended her off.”

“I didn’t know that. Thanks, Bill.”

“I’m not a fan of blind dates, but Gretchen’s a born matchmaker who thinks everyone in the world should be coupled up.”

Nolan stabbed a fork into his salad. “Let me ask you. Has anyone ever done your astrological birth chart?”

“My whatzit?”

“Never mind. Idle question. Forget it.”

“Astrology is major weirdness.”

A couple of hours ago, Nolan would have agreed with him. Now he felt obligated to defend Darcie’s chosen profession. “Weirder than that
Star Trek
marathon we were invited to last year, where people dressed up and watched every single episode from Season One?”

“We didn’t go to that.”

“I know, but we considered it.”

“But we didn’t go.” Bill emphasized his point by jabbing his fork in the air. “That’s the important factor, here.”

“I went to one of those,” said a guy sitting across the round table from them. “It was cool.”

Nolan looked at Bill. “See? Weirdness is relative.”

“Your date tonight is into astrology, isn’t she?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. You asked the question, which tells me what’s on your mind. By the way, where’s your name tag?”

“My name tag?” Nolan glanced down at his sports coat lapel where he’d clipped the name tag this morning. “Huh. Must have fallen off.” Scooting back his chair, he checked the floor. “Or maybe it was knocked off when that guy ran into me in the hall. I’ll go check.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll be right back.” Stupid as it was, Nolan didn’t want to have to ask for a new name tag at the registration desk. He never wanted to be accused of being an absent-minded scientist.

But the name tag wasn’t in the hall, which was empty of people now that the luncheon had started. He returned to his seat. “Wasn’t there.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. No big deal. Just get them to make you a new one at the registration desk. I’m sure it happens all the time.”

“I guess.” Not so much to him, though.

Bill put down his fork and leaned closer to Nolan. “Back to the subject of the astrologer lady. It doesn’t matter if she’s into that. I saw her, and she’s hot. She’s looking for a nerd. Roll with it.”

Nolan wanted to believe he was above that kind of thinking, but in the end, he was a man with testosterone-driven urges. Darcie had invited him to her room tonight. He intended to roll with it.

Chapter Four

Darcie had so much fun working on Nolan’s chart and making notes for the reading that she completely lost track of time. She went straight from his birth chart to his transit chart so she could get an idea of what he’d been up to recently and what might happen in the future. When a knock came at her hotel room door, she glanced at the time on her computer screen and groaned.

Nolan was punctual, which was completely in keeping with his chart, and she was . . . a total mess. The chicken salad sandwich he’d had sent up lay half-eaten on a plate next to her. The fries were all gone, but that was because she could eat fries and type better than she could eat a sandwich and type.

She wore the same clothes she’d had on this morning. Her hair was a tangled conglomeration she’d piled on top of her head and fastened with hairpins so it wouldn’t get in her way. When she stood up and looked in the mirror, she gasped at the wild woman who stared back at her. She was the perfect image of a crazed psychic, wild-eyed and wild-haired.

Walking over to the door, she opened it a crack. His spicy aftershave scent drifted through the opening. She didn’t need her psychic abilities to know that he’d shaved and showered before coming to her room. She, on the other hand, had done nothing to freshen up. She quickly estimated how much time she could reasonably expect him to stand outside her door waiting.

Not long. “Nolan, can you give me a couple of minutes?”

“Sure. Take your time.”

“Thanks.” She shut the door and smiled. His voice was so solid, exactly the way a Virgo should sound. Oh, she knew him now, but she’d have to be careful not to scare him with the extent of her knowledge. She did, however, want to make a believer out of him.

Two minutes wasn’t very long, but she used every second of it to her advantage. By the time she opened the door and let him in, she’d brushed her teeth, combed her hair, and reapplied her lipstick. The remains of her lunch had been dumped in the trash and she’d sent his birth chart to her small but mighty printer. She’d save the transit chart for another time. She didn’t want to overload the poor guy.

She always packed that little gem of a printer because she never knew when it would come in handy. Tonight it certainly had. A birth chart on a screen was one thing. A birth chart the subject could hold in his hand was much more powerful.

He’d dressed down, and she liked that he was feeling in a casual mood. Instead of a white shirt and sports jacket, he’d worn jeans and a green knit polo, which gave her an even better view of his manly chest and tight buns. Not every Ph.D. could fill out a polo shirt and a pair of Levis, but Dr. Nolan Bradbury had it covered.

His presence in her room changed everything. Before he’d been an astrological subject on a computer screen, but now he was a flesh-and-blood man, a sexy Virgo with so much to offer. She’d created charts for several of the guys she’d dated, in most cases because they’d asked her to. Nolan’s reluctance made him that much more intriguing.

She’d never conducted a reading in a bedroom before, either. Doing that made the situation more erotic, but she had no intention of going to bed with Nolan tonight. She hadn’t ruled that out as a future possibility. In fact, according to his chart, it was quite likely to happen. But for this first encounter she wanted to dazzle him with her astrological savvy, not her sexuality.

He warily eyed the computer and the printer, which had just spit out his chart. “So you’re done?”

“This very minute. Your timing is perfect.”

He seemed pleased by that. “Find anything interesting?”

“A few things.” She played it cool, but inside she was seething with excitement. His chart told her exactly why she’d been drawn to him, but if she explained it fully, he might bolt. She didn’t want to scare him off, not when the possibilities were endless.

He held up a bottle of wine she hadn’t noticed when he first came in. “I brought this. If you don’t care for red, that’s okay, but I –”

“I’m a Sag, remember? We like everything, and red wine is perfect. But I don’t have a corkscrew.”

“I do.” He reached in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a slim version used by waiters everywhere. His sophistication courtesy of former girlfriends or Harcourt was obvious in the way he used the opener to extract the cork. “Didn’t bring glasses, though.”

“Water glasses are fine.” She ducked into the bathroom and came out with two. “In Europe they hardly ever use stemware the way we do over here.”

“You’ve been there?” He poured them each a generous serving.

“I have. You?”

“A couple of times. Once with Harcourt. That was an experience.”

“I can imagine. Where did you go?”

“Where else? Paris. It’s where he really campaigned to educate my palate.”

She couldn’t help wondering if Harcourt had educated Nolan in anything else while they were there. French women were legendary lovers and the Follies was supposed to be one of the sexiest shows on the planet.

“He also taught me about wine.” Nolan lifted his glass in her direction. “So if you like this, you can thank him and not me.”

“I choose to thank you.” She touched the rim of her glass to his. “He might have educated you about wine, but you were the one who brought me a bottle and offered to share. Here’s to you, Dr. Bradbury.”

His gaze locked with hers. “Here’s to you for putting up with my asinine behavior.”

“Well, there’s that.” She winked at him and took a sip of a lovely red wine. “Very nice. Thank you.”

“You wouldn’t take money for your hours of work, so this seemed like the least I could do. And I’m buying dinner, which we should probably order now. I’m sure the kitchen is backed up with the conference going on.”

She couldn’t help smiling. He was
such
a Virgo. “You’re right. Let’s order.” She wasn’t at all surprised that he’d already gone over the room service menu and was prepared with several suggestions. They ended up with a pasta dish for her and tilapia and veggies for him.

“Now that’s done.” Still holding her wine-filled water glass, she walked over to the tiny printer sitting on her desk. “Let’s get to the main topic of the evening, shall we?”

“That’s what we’re here for.” But he didn’t look particularly comfortable with the idea.

She surveyed the room, which contained her king-sized bed, the desk chair, and one easy chair with a small table next to it. “Why don’t you sit there and I’ll take the desk chair?”

“That doesn’t seem very gentlemanly.”

“Maybe not, but you’re the client.”

“The client who’s not paying you.”

She waved that comment aside. “Whether or not you’re paying me is of no consequence. My professional pride dictates that you sit in the easy chair and I’ll take the desk chair.” She speared him with a determined glance. “And I want to keep this absolutely professional.”

“Okay, okay.” He plopped down in the upholstered chair. “I don’t want to mess up your routine.”

“Good.” She took his chart from the printer and started to hand it to him.

“Before you give me that, I have a question. You said astrology is based on the zodiac. If that’s not the constellations, then what is it?”

“It’s a band around the earth divided into thirty-degree segments.”

“And they match up with the constellations, right?”

“Not anymore. They used to, five thousand years ago, but the earth’s wobble has thrown that off.”

“O-kay.” He still looked confused.

“The best way to introduce you to astrology is by demonstrating how the zodiac has influenced you. I think you’ll be surprised. Oh, and I have
not
Googled you, or talked to your family and friends. I know a little about you from high school, but not much. Whatever I say now comes straight from your chart.” She handed it to him.

He took it as he might accept a medical lab report on a condition he wished he didn’t have. She refused to allow her feelings to be hurt because he wasn’t eager to explore this with her. He had hidden depths that he hadn’t yet acknowledged, and if she could tap into those, their interaction would be amazing. Of course, he could also shut down on her, but wow, he had such potential.

“So where am I on this chart?”

She pointed to the Mc in the pie-shaped twelfth house. “Right here. This is the mid-heaven point that was directly above your head when you were born. And your moon is in Leo.” She pointed to the crescent-shaped symbol. “That indicates that you’re extremely loyal.”

He glanced up. “I suppose I am.”

“I’m guessing that you’ll stick to a person, animal, or ideology through thick and thin.”

“I have to admit that’s true.” He laughed. “And it’s part of the problem, here. My ideology does not embrace yours.”