Okay, that was true.
“—but that he wants to see you in something sexy.” She nodded. “Mm-hmm, he
really
cares about you.”
“See me in it?” I began to hyperventilate.
“Well, yeah. No guy buys a woman lingerie without expecting to see it on her.”
“They don’t?” Spots appeared before my eyes. I dropped onto the corner of my desk, smashing the lid of the box.
“Hell no. And this guy is a smooth operator. Lucky you.” She whirled around, her mailbag whacking my thigh, and walked out.
I looked down at the pile of new underwear. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I picked up one of the scarlet scraps and imagined modeling it for Luc.
Nope. Wasn’t happening.
I stuffed everything back in the box, jammed the mashed-up lid on top, and shoved it under my desk. I sat down, ignoring how my feet kept knocking into it.
Only the scent of the roses kept distracting me. I debated putting them outside my office, but I’d never gotten flowers before and they really did smell nice.
White roses—red meant love. White, no doubt, meant friendship, right? I mean, Luc gave all this stuff to me because he knew I was stressed and he wanted to do something nice for me.
Yeah, that had to be it.
I opened a browser and Googled
roses colors meaning
. Clicking on the first site, I read down the list until I came to
white
. There were several meanings listed, but what caught my eyes were
you’re heavenly
and
I’m worthy of you
.
Shit.
Wait a minute. I sat back. Luc probably didn’t know what the colors meant. He probably didn’t even pick them out.
Whew—what a relief. The tension melted from my shoulders.
Because the thought of me and Luc ...
My breathing hitched and caught in my throat. Then I thought about his hands and the way they held mine and how the tips of his fingers were just a little bit rough and imagined how they’d feel trailing down my belly to push my new pants down to look at my new panties ...
Holy cow.
I crossed my legs (which made my knees scrape against my desk—again) and fanned myself. Those were not thoughts I needed to have, especially about my best friend.
Focus. I needed to focus. Opening the file I’d been working on all day, I hunched and got busy. Only, instead of concentrating on the origin of the Easter Bunny, all I could think of was Luc undressing me, his intense gaze devouring every inch of my body.
I managed to get through the day (barely), but by the time I got to my apartment I was in a state. Dropping my bag by the door, I paced back and forth in my apartment’s entryway, holding the box of lingerie.
I needed to talk to someone. Usually I’d call Luc but—damn him—I obviously couldn’t do that this time. Who else was there?
I stopped abruptly. I had no choice.
I headed back out the door, cursing Luc with every step for leaving me no other course of action. Propping the box under my arm, I took a deep breath and knocked.
In two seconds Rainbow swung open her door. Her face lit up like Times Square at night. “Kath! What a surprise.”
“Can I come in?” I asked before I lost my nerve.
“Sure thing. I’ll make us some tea.”
At the mention of tea, I tripped over the pile of shoes by the door. “Um, great burglar alarm. If anyone breaks in, you’ll hear them before they start burgling.”
She grinned over her shoulder on her way to the kitchenette. “That’s true. You’re so clever.”
I wish. Sometimes my intellect was right up there with an earthworm’s.
Cautiously, to avoid breaking my neck on any other obstacles (though that would have solved all my problems—hmm ...), I went into the living area. The futon was clear of clothing this time, so I set the box of lingerie on it and sat down.
Then I sniffed.
It smelled surprisingly good in here. Kind of fruity and sweet. I looked around for the source. Maybe she changed the kind of incense she used (thank God).
“I’m totally shocked you came over,” Rainbow said, peeking out from the kitchen. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever come over again.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “You left so suddenly the last time. I thought maybe I did something to offend you.”
Mental wince. “Um, I remembered something I had to do,” I lied.
“Oh.” She beamed. “Well, you’re here now.”
She disappeared again only to emerge a couple minutes later with two steaming mugs. She handed me one before sitting Indian-style on the floor.
“Thanks.” I set it on top of the least precarious stack of magazines on the table. “Did you get new incense? It smells really good.”
Her eyes lit up. “You think so?”
“Well, yes. I like it a lot. More than whatever you were burning the last time.” Hint hint.
“It’s a new combination I’m trying. I’ve been experimenting all week. I’ve had such a hard time coming up with the right ratio of citrus.”
“Experimenting?” I almost groaned at the image of Rainbow playing mad scientist next door. I didn’t have many possessions, but what I had I didn’t want blown up.
“Yeah. I was thinking of expanding my aromatherapy line.”
“Your aromatherapy line?”
She grinned sheepishly. “I kind of sell oils, incense, and lotions.”
“Oh.” Luc took me to Berkeley once and the streets were lined with people like Rainbow selling their wares. “Where do you sell them?”
“They get distributed to various stores on the West Coast.”
“They do?” I knew my eyes had to be popping out of my head in surprise.
“Yeah. Well. It’s groovy,” she said modestly. “I earn money doing something I like, and I’m bringing pleasure to people in the process.”
There was one thing I needed to wrap my head around. “How many stores on the West Coast?”
“Around three dozen or so. The business has really taken off the last couple years.” She grinned. “My accountant’s happy.”
Rainbow—an aromatherapy mogul? What was she doing living here? I opened my mouth to ask her but I thought it might be rude, so I picked up my mug and drank some tea instead.
Yuck. At least the tea was the same. Not that I was complaining—I would have been really disillusioned if it hadn’t been.
“What’s in the box?”
I adjusted my glasses and focused on my neighbor. “What?”
“The box.” As she pointed, her top lifted to reveal a belly button piercing. “Next to you.”
I was torn between telling her belly button piercings took the longest of any to heal and asking her if she had any others. Though I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know where else she might be pierced (shudder).
“Hey, Kath.” She waved a hand in front of my face. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not.” I frowned. “If your best friend gave you underwear, what would you think?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Depends. Is my best friend male or female?”
“Male.” Definitely very male.
“Is it my birthday?”
“No.”
She tapped a finger against the stud in her nostril. “Long johns or G-strings?”
“G-strings.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened.
I pulled the box onto my lap and opened it. “Luc sent me all this and I don’t know what to think. I mean, I think he was being nice because he didn’t want me to embarrass myself because my underwear didn’t fit in under my new pants, but ...” I shook my head.
Rainbow drew out a particularly frilly set and whistled.
I nodded. “I know.”
“Well ...” She shook her head and whistled again. “Is the box full of this stuff?”
“Yes,” I said miserably. “And then a woman at work said that men only bought women underwear expecting to see them in it, and I don’t know what to think.”
“This stuff is gorgeous.” She reverently held up another bra. “You know what I think?”
“What?” I leaned forward and held my breath for her words of wisdom.
“That he should pick out all
my
lingerie from now on.”
Great. Some help she was.
By the time the next evening and—yikes!—dinner with Luc rolled around, I’d managed to work myself into quite a tizzy.
Luc had wanted to pick me up at home after work but I quickly vetoed that. Driving with Luc—small, enclosed space? The ultimate in awkward. What if he made a pass and I had to slap him back? What if he made a pass and I didn’t slap him back?
For that matter, what if
I
made a pass?
No way. Better to meet him at the restaurant.
I got home with just enough time to take a quick shower, touch up my bun, and throw on some clothes. Yes, my new clothes. I was going to draw the line at the underwear, though—I was still weirded out by that—but then I spent ten minutes trying to tuck my old underwear down without having it bunch. I finally had to admit defeat and put on a pair of panties Luc had picked out. And since I did that, I figured I might as well wear the matching bra. The only justification was that they were so comfortable it was like wearing nothing. And the panties were thongs—who knew?
I was about this close to wearing my Ferragamos—they go with everything, after all—but Luc would have a fit. The only other type of shoes I owned was tennis shoes. They went with jeans, right? I shrugged and got into them.
Right before I slipped into my red jacket and left, I glanced at my reflection. On impulse I took down my hair and instantly regretted it, it looked so messy. But I was late, so I left it and ran out.
The Muni bus wasn’t on time—surprise surprise. I considered catching a cab, but taxicabs didn’t often just cruise around my neighborhood. So I got to the restaurant fifteen minutes late.
Luc was waiting for me at the outside entrance. He smiled wide when he saw me. “No way. You wore your new clothes.”
I frowned. “You told me to.”
“But I didn’t expect you to listen.” He scooped me up and hugged me.
God, he smelled good. “Did you know the nose can detect more than ten thousand different scents?”
He ignored me. Holding me at arm’s length, he inspected me thoroughly. I blushed, wondering if he was trying to see if I was wearing the underwear too.
Finally he grinned. “You look damn good, even if I say so myself.”
“Did you know we’re born with three hundred fifty bones but only have two hundred six when we die?”
I wasn’t sure what bones had to do with anything either, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
“Kat, I think you need food.” Luc slung an arm over my shoulder. (Disappointed that he didn’t take my hand? Not me.)
We walked into House, the restaurant Luc wanted to go to tonight. I’d checked it out on the Internet and it was fancier than I’d like. Well—it wasn’t fancy so much as it was costly. I mean, why should you pay twenty-five bucks for a steak you can buy for a couple dollars at Safeway? But Luc was taking me out so I didn’t complain.
I wanted to, though.
One thing about Luc: he’s loose with his money. He’s not a spendthrift per se, but he doesn’t save like I do. I guess it’s how he was raised. His family is loaded, so there was never anything he lacked. I, on the other hand, grew up in virtual poverty—virtual because we did okay despite our lack of funds. But whenever I had an extra penny I saved it for the day my dad would squander our rent or grocery money. Those pennies saved us more times than I can count.
Anyway, the host showed us to our table. Luc held my chair out for me (feminism be damned—I love that), waiting patiently while I took my jacket off. I dropped it on the back of the chair and sat down, ready for Luc to scoot my chair in.
Nothing.
I looked up with a frown. “Any day now.”
He stared at me like he’d never seen me before. Or like I had a bird dropping in my hair.
My hand automatically went up to my fro. “I shouldn’t have taken it down. Is it out of control? It’s frizzing all over the place, isn’t it?” Maybe I had a rubber band in my purse.
“No.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear it of cobwebs. “No. It looks great.
You
look great.”
He sat down across from me. Instead of opening his menu, he rested his chin in his hand and gazed at me with his bright blue eyes.
Which made me want to squirm. “What?”
He shook his head again. “After all these years, you’d think that I’d know you, but you continue to surprise me.”
Whatever that meant. I was still the same old Katherine Murphy, even if I was in new clothes and had left my hair down. I decided the best course of action was to ignore him, so I opened the menu and looked for something to eat. Something easy to swallow because if he kept looking at me like he was now, I was going to have trouble.