“You all went jewelry shopping?” he asked.
“No, I was home alone drinking too much wine and found mine in the apothecary cabinet. Heather was home alone after drinking with Vivien and found hers in a receipt box. And Vivien was also by herself and found one in a memory box,” Lorna said. “Spooky coincidence, right?”
“I guess?” He didn’t look convinced.
Lorna decided not to bother telling him about the mystical connection she and Vivien had shared when they’d touched hands. She’d always been open to possibilities beyond what she could see with her eyes. Something abnormal was happening to them. She felt it, even if she couldn’t fully explain it.
“You were right. I had heard about what happened with your husband,” William said. “I didn’t mean to imply wanting answers from those who are no longer with us was a negative thing. I don’t know the details, and I don’t expect you to tell me unless you want to, but I wanted to say I was sorry if I made you feel bad by anything I said. My difficulties with my family heritage sound minor compared to what you must have been through.”
Lorna didn’t sense malice in his words, but they still made her uncomfortable.
“Anyway, I want you to know no one here has been speaking poorly about you, or what happened. I think you’ll find you have a lot of support if you want it.” He started to reach forward as if to touch her arm and then pulled back.
Lorna nodded. “Thank you for saying that.”
A knock on the glass door caused them both to turn. Vivien waved for Lorna to come inside. Lorna lifted her hand in acknowledgment and stepped toward the door.
“Wait, there’s something else,” William said. This time he did touch her arm as he stopped her from leaving.
“What?”
His eyes steadily held hers and he leaned closer. The attraction she felt was unmistakable. It shot through her with a jolt of awareness. Sexual desire hadn’t hit her this strong since she was a hormonal teenager.
Was he going to kiss her?
Should she try to kiss him?
Great, she thought, sarcastically. My mid-life libido chooses this moment to kick in.
Lorna forced a deep breath, trying not to be obvious about her thoughts. There wasn’t going to be any kissing going on between them. They barely knew each other.
“Go out with me sometime.” His voice had lowered. Or was that her imagination?
This time Lorna was speechless for an entirely different reason. After their ineloquent conversation about dead people, she wouldn’t have guessed he saw her as dating material. Then again, what did she know about dating? She wouldn’t be able to read the signs even if they were bluntly spelled out in blinking neon four feet tall. Yes, she thought him broodingly sexy, but for him to return the interest?
“Is that a question?” she asked.
“Only if you say yes.” He smiled. The look softened his expression, making him appear almost playful.
“Um.” Lorna glanced toward the theater. She began to overthink, her mind listing out all the reasons why she should say no.
This was Heather’s brother.
Heather was her boss and landlord.
She would surely make an ass out of herself.
She wasn’t ready to date… was she?
“Maybe?” she finished weakly.
“How about we say that’s a yes, and I’ll hope you don’t stand me up?” He took a step back, “Thursday,” and then another, “seven o’clock,” and yet another, “King’s Bistro. I’ll be the guy waiting with flowers.”
Before Lorna could answer, William turned and strolled away.
“But…?” The word was weak and he didn’t hear the protest.
Vivien knocked louder than before to get her attention. Lorna reached for the door before she was close enough to touch it and stepped to the side while staring after William.
The door opened before she could push on it.
“What was that all about?” Vivien asked. “Next time, angle yourself more toward me so I can lip read what’s happening.”
“William just asked me out,” Lorna said. “I don’t think I can go, though.”
“Why the hell not?” Vivien demanded. “He’s beautiful. He’s sexy. He’s single. He’s a decent guy. He’s—”
“My boss’ brother,” Lorna inserted.
“Oh please,” Vivien dismissed. She strode toward the theater office and called, “Heather, do you care if Lorna dates your brother?”
“As long as she knows he comes with warning labels and is a pain in the backside,” Heather answered, glancing up from the desk where she filled in an event booking form. Her eyes met Lorna’s. “Did he finally ask you? He’s been bugging me with questions about you since you two first crossed paths. I thought his gardener excuse hardly warranted a visit. My mother fires everyone. Ev-ery-one. I’ll send the same guys back and she’ll think I hired new lawn people for her.”
“See, Heather doesn’t care. You should go and have fun,” Vivien said. “He’s hot.”
“Not hot.” Heather shook her head and put her hands briefly over her ears. “My brother is a dork. He still has a comic book collection and thinks hanging up football jerseys counts as home decor.”
“Hey, maybe Lorna’s into pleather couches with the cup holders built into the arms,” Vivien teased, placing her hand on her hip. “Why do you have to be so judgy?”
“Actually, I don’t mind those,” Lorna inserted. She saw her jar of jelly had been placed on the desk next to the coffees. “Sounds practical.”
“See, they’re a match made in pleather.” Vivien laughed. “She likes a living room with a mini-fridge next to the sofa and a seventy-inch television.”
“I don’t own a television,” Lorna said. “I read.”
“Perfect. He’ll have enough television for the both of you.” Vivien continued to smile.
“I don’t think William has installed a dorm fridge next to his couch yet, but the rest of it isn’t too far off,” Heather said. “Who knows, Lorna, maybe some of your good taste will rub off on my bachelor brother. One can only hope.”
“So he’s never been married?” Lorna asked.
“Don’t answer,” Vivien interjected.
“No. He’s never been married,” Heather said. “He says he won’t even consider it until he finds the right one, and when he does he’ll know.”
“Leave them something to talk about on the date,” Vivien scolded.
“I haven’t said I was going,” Lorna insisted.
Both women looked at her like they knew she was lying.
“Fine. I’m probably going,” Lorna mumbled.
“You’re both adults. I’m staying out of it. Do whatever you like, but if it’s naughty I don’t want to hear the details,” Heather said.
“I on the other hand want all the sordid details,” Vivien put forth. “And pictures if you can manage them. Video is better. Let me know if you want help picking out costumes for—”
“And with those traumatizing thoughts,” Heather pushed up from the desk and tapped the stack of papers to make them even, “I’m going to go pour bleach on my brain until I forget I heard any of that.” She glanced up at the clock and then the security monitor of the front lobby. “The ballerinas will be arriving soon.”