Vision in White (Bride Quartet #1)(23)

"You could call me. Or you could meet me for a drink after school."

"Do you know where Coffee Talk is?"

"Vaguely. I can find it."

"Four thirty?"

"I can make five o'clock."

"Five. Great. I'll . . . see you there."

She continued down, glancing back as she reached the base of the staircase. He stood at that halfway point still, hands in the pockets of his khakis, his tweed jacket just a little saggy, and his hair carelessly mussed.

Poor Julie, Mac thought and continued on. Poor little Julie, I know exactly how you feel.





"YOU ASKED HER TO COFFEE TALK? WHAT'S WRONG WITH you?"

Carter scowled as he loaded files and books into his briefcase. "What's the matter with Coffee Talk?"

"It's a hangout for staff and students." Bob Tarkinson, math teacher and self-proclaimed expert on affairs of the heart, shook his head sadly. "You want to make it with a woman, you take her out for a drink. A nice bar, Carter. Something with a little sense of atmosphere and intimacy."

"Not every contact with a woman's about making it."

"Just every other one then."

"You're married," Carter pointed out. "With a baby on the way."

"Exactly why I know what I know." Bob rested a hip against Carter's desk, putting his wise expression on his pleasant face. "Do you think I got a woman like Amy to marry me by taking her out for a cup of coffee? Hell, no. You know what turned the tide for me and Amy?"

"Yes, Bob." Because you've told me a thousand times. "You cooked her dinner on your second date, and she fell for you over your chicken cutlets."



       
         
       
        

Still wise, Bob wagged his finger. "Nobody falls for somebody over a latte, Carter. Trust me."

"She doesn't even know me, not really. So the falling-for portion is irrelevant. And you're making me nervous."

"You were already nervous. Okay, you're stuck with coffee, so see how it goes. If you're still interested, do the follow-up call tomorrow. Next day latest. Dinner."

"I'm not making chicken cutlets."

"You can't cook for shit, Maguire. Besides, this coffee thing isn't officially a first date. Take her out. When you're ready to close the deal, I can give you a recipe. Something simple."

"God." Carter rubbed the space between his eyebrows where tension built. "This is why I avoid dating. It's hell."

"You've avoided dating because Corrine screwed up your self-confidence. It's good you're getting back on the horse, and with somebody outside our sphere." In support, he clapped Carter on the shoulder. "What did you say she does again?"

"She's a photographer. She has a wedding business with three of her friends. They're doing Sherry's wedding. We-Mackensie and I-went to high school together for about five minutes."

"Wait. Wait. Mackensie? The redhead you had a crush on in high school?"

Defeated, Carter rubbed the spot between his eyebrows again. "I should never have told you about that. This is why I rarely drink."

"But, Cart, this is like kismet." Excitement rushed through the words. "It's like return of the nerd. It's the big chance to follow up on a lost opportunity."

"It's coffee," Carter muttered.

Flushed with enthusiasm, Bob jumped up, grabbed a piece of chalk. On the board he drew a circle. "Obvious, the circle. You're completing one, and completing it just means taking point A and point B-" Within the circle he made two dots, connected them horizontally. "Up to point C." He drew another dot at the apex, then joined it with the other points with two diagonal lines. "See?"

"Yes, I see a triangle inside a circle. I've got to go."

"It's the triangle of fate inside the circle of life!"

Carter hefted his briefcase. "Go home, Bob."

"You can't argue with math, Carter. You'll always lose."

Carter escaped, moving quickly through the largely empty school with his footsteps echoing behind him.





CHAPTER FIVE



SHE WAS LATE. MAYBE SHE WASN'T COMING AT ALL. ANYTHING could've come up, Carter thought. If he'd had any brain cells working he'd have given her his cell number so she could call and cancel. 

Now he just had to sit here, alone.

For how long? he wondered. The fifteen minutes he'd already waited wasn't long enough. A half an hour? An hour? Did waiting alone for an hour make him a pathetic loser?

He thought it probably did.

Stupid, he told himself and pretended to drink more green tea. He'd dated before-plenty. He'd been in a serious, intimate relationship with a woman for nearly a year. For God's sake, he'd lived with her.