“Your life is not boring.” Despite her best efforts, K.O. couldn’t keep her eyes off the cookies. “Would you excuse me?”
“Ah...sure.”
“I’ll be back in a minute. I need to brush my teeth.”
Her neighbor eyed her speculatively as K.O. left the room.
“It’s a trick I have when I get hungry,” she explained, coming out of the bathroom holding her toothbrush, which was loaded with toothpaste. “Whenever I get hungry, I brush my teeth.”
“You do what?”
“Brush my teeth.”
Her friend regarded her steadily. “How many times have you brushed your teeth today?”
“Four...no, five times. Promise me you’ll take those cookies home.”
LaVonne nodded. “I brought them in case I needed a bribe.”
“Not only will I write your letter, I’ll do it today so you can mail off your cards this week.”
Her friend’s eyes revealed her gratitude. “You’re the best.”
Ideas were already forming in K.O.’s mind. Writing LaVonne’s Christmas letter would be a snap compared to finishing Bill Mulcahy’s. Speaking of him... K.O. glanced at her watch. She was scheduled to meet him this very afternoon.
“I’ve got an appointment at three,” she told her friend. “I’ll put something together for you right away, drop it off, see Bill and then stop at your place on my way back.”
“Great.” LaVonne was still focused on the toothbrush. “You’re meeting Wynn later?”
She nodded. “At six.” She should be contacting him and canceling, but she didn’t know how to reach him. It was a weak excuse—since she could easily ask LaVonne for his number. Actually, she felt it was time to own up to the truth. She wanted to see Wynn again, just so she’d have some answers. Was she truly attracted to him? Did he have some nefarious agenda, with the intent of proving himself right and her wrong? Unless she spent another evening with him, she wouldn’t find out.
“Are you...” LaVonne waved her hand in K.O.’s direction.
“Am I what?”
LaVonne sighed. “Are you going to take that toothbrush with you?”
“Of course.”
“I see.” Her neighbor frowned. “My psychic vision didn’t tell me anything about that.”
“No, I don’t imagine it would.” K.O. proceeded to return to the bathroom, where she gave her teeth a thorough brushing. Perhaps if Wynn saw her foaming at the mouth, he’d know her true feelings about him.
K.O. had fun writing LaVonne’s Christmas letter. Compared to Bill Mulcahy’s, it was a breeze. Her friend was worried about how other people, people from her long-ago past, would react to the fact that she’d never married and lacked male companionship. K.O. took care of that.
Merry Christmas to my friends, K.O. began for LaVonne. This has been an exciting year as I juggle my time between Tom, Phillip and Martin, the three guys in my life. No one told me how demanding these relationships can be. Tom won my heart first and then I met Phillip and how could I refuse him? Yes, there’s a bit of jealousy, but they manage to be civil to each other. I will admit that things heated up after I started seeing Martin. I fell for him the minute we met.
I’m retired now, so I have plenty of time to devote to the demands of these relationships. Some women discover love in their twenties. But it took me until I was retired to fall into this kind of happiness. I lavish attention and love on all three guys. Those of you who are concerned that I’m taking on too much, let me assure you—I’m woman enough to handle them.
I love my new luxury condo on Blossom Street here in Seattle. And I’ve been continuing my education lately, enhancing my skills and exploring new vistas.
* * *
K.O. giggled, then glanced at her watch. The afternoon had escaped her. She hurriedly finished with a few more details of LaVonne’s year, including a wine-tasting trip to the Yakima Valley, and printed out a draft of the letter.
The meeting with Bill Mulcahy went well, and he paid her the balance of what he owed and thanked her profusely. “This is just perfect,” he said, reading the Christmas letter. “I wouldn’t have believed it, if I wasn’t seeing it for myself. You took the mess this year has been and turned it all around.”
K.O. was pleased her effort had met with his satisfaction.
LaVonne was waiting for her when she returned, the Christmas letter in hand. “Oh, Katherine, I don’t know how you do it. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes. How can I ever thank you?”
“I had fun,” she assured her neighbor.
“I absolutely insist on paying you.”
“Are you kidding? No way.” After everything LaVonne had done for her, no thanks was necessary.
“I love it so much, I’ve already taken it down to the printer’s and had copies made on fancy Christmas paper. My cards are going out this afternoon, thanks to you.”
K.O. shrugged off her praise. After all, her friend had paid for her dinner with Wynn at Chez Jerome and been a good friend to her all these months. Writing a simple letter was the least she could do.
K.O. had been home only a short while when her doorbell chimed. Thinking it must be LaVonne, who frequently stopped by, she casually opened it, ready to greet her neighbor.
Instead Wynn Jeffries stood there.
K.O. wasn’t ready for their outing—or to see him again. She needed to steel herself against the attraction she felt toward him.
“Hi.” She sounded breathless.
“Katherine.”
“Hi,” she said again unnecessarily.
“I realize I’m early,” he said. “I have a radio interview at 5:30. My assistant arranged it earlier in the week and I forgot to enter it into my PDA.”
“Oh.” Here it was—the perfect excuse to avoid seeing him again. And yet she couldn’t help feeling disappointed.
He must’ve known, as she did, that any kind of relationship was a lost cause.
“That’s fine, I understand,” she told him, recovering quickly. “We can get together another time.” She offered this in a nonchalant manner, shrugging her shoulders, deciding this really was for the best.
His gaze held hers. “Perhaps you could come with me,” he said.
“Come with you?” she repeated and instantly recognized this as a bad idea. In fact, as bad ideas went, it came close to the top. She hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut in the bookstore and had been banned for life. If she had to listen to him spout off his views in person, K.O. didn’t know if she could restrain herself from grabbing the mike and pleading with people everywhere to throw out his book or use it for kindling. Nope, attending the interview with him was definitely not a good plan.
When she didn’t immediately respond, he said, “After the interview, we could go on to the Figgy Pudding thing you mentioned.”