“They really should offer classes in that sort of thing,” Karen went on thoughtfully. She nodded toward the boisterous group in the back corner of the big dining room. “The birthday redhead there could probably be the professor.”
Though she tried to be subtle about it, Catherine couldn’t resist craning her neck around to get a glimpse of the woman both Julia and Karen had pointed out. She spotted the redhead immediately, and she could see why her friends had noticed her.
The woman really was lovely. Her hair was a rich strawberry blond, cascading in a silky curtain to her shoulders, which were all but bared by the royal-blue, halter-neck dress she wore. Her face was a perfect oval of creamy porcelain, warmed by big, laughing green eyes and a vivid smile.
Just looking at her made Catherine feel dowdy and plain in her tailored white blouse and gray slacks, her own brown hair styled in its usual neat bob. While Julia might be technically as pretty as the redhead, her clothes were much more sedate, her expression more keep-your-distance than come-hither. And Karen… As fond as she was of her, Catherine had to admit that few men would look twice at matronly Karen if that redhead was in the same room. At herself, either, for that matter.
“She really is beautiful.” Again, there wasn’t a trace of envy in Karen’s voice. “And would you look at that guy with her. Is he a perfect specimen or what?”
“Which guy?” Julia asked without much interest. “There are four of them.”
Not wanting to be caught staring, Catherine had turned back around after glancing at the redhead. She hadn’t really noticed any of the men in the birthday party.
“The blond one,” Karen said, gazing openly in that direction. “Green shirt. Looks like he should be on the cover of a magazine.”
“Oh. Him.” Julia’s voice chilled several degrees. “He looks like a jerk. One of those guys who thinks he’s such hot stuff that he can get away with anything.”
Catherine shook her head in exasperation with her friend’s attitude. Julia had no patience for shallow, frivolous people—although she had good reason. She had encountered too many men who had pretended to be interested in her brains and competence, when what they had really wanted was a beautiful blonde to dangle from their arms. A woman who excelled in a field once dominated by men, Julia hated to be patronized, trivialized or underestimated. And she said she was treated that way most often by slick, handsome men.
“Let’s just forget about that other group,” Catherine suggested. “The three of us don’t get that many opportunities to have a leisurely dinner together. We should make the most of it.”
The conversation had just drifted back to Karen’s vacation when the group behind them began to sing the happy birthday song. Julia looked up from her dessert with a slight frown. “They certainly are loud.”
“They’re just having fun,” Karen said, glancing that way with an indulgent smile.
Catherine turned again to look in that direction, as were most of the other diners in the restaurant. They had been right about it being the redhead’s birthday. She was glowing as her friends sang to her.
Remembering Karen and Julia’s earlier conversation, Catherine scanned the group idly for the man who had caused Karen to sigh and Julia to scowl. A blond man, they had said. Sitting close to the…
Her gaze froze, and she felt her smile slide right off her face.
She wasn’t sure what made him look suddenly her way. Simply coincidence, perhaps. But suddenly he spotted her, and recognition dawned instantly on his face. His smile widened, and he gave her a little wave. Catherine waved a bit stiffly in return, then turned quickly back to her dinner companions.
“Catherine, do you know that guy?” Karen asked curiously. “He’s the one Julia and I were talking about.”
“Yes, I know him.”
“Really? Someone from work? I don’t recognize him.”
“No. Someone from my apartment complex.”
Karen’s eyes widened comically. “Oh, surely not.”
“Surely not what?” Julia asked, as clueless as ever.
“That’s the one who brought you flowers?” Karen demanded.
Catherine nodded. “How did you guess?”
“Let’s face it. How many men do you know who fit that description?”
“You have a point there.”
“That’s the maintenance guy?” Julia asked, catching up. She looked toward Mike’s table again and shook her head. “I see what you mean, now, about nothing happening between you. He would be totally wrong for you.”
Even though Julia was only repeating what Catherine, herself, had been saying, Catherine was aware of a sudden, sinking feeling inside her. “It’s hardly necessary for you to tell me that.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Karen frowned at Julia. “I think it might be good for Catherine to get out of her rut. She wouldn’t have to marry the guy or anything, but why shouldn’t she have fun?”
“Waste of time,” Julia said dismissively. “Catherine’s a woman with a demanding career. Why would she want to complicate her life even more when she knows it won’t lead anywhere? Guy like that, first time she has to blow him off for job demands, he’ll sulk. Next time it happens, as we all know it will, he’ll take off in search of someone who has nothing better to do than to cater to his ego.”
“You aren’t being fair, Julia. You don’t even know this man.”
“Trust me. I know dozens of this man.”
“You’re so cynical. Even for a lawyer.”
“Yeah, well, it’s easy for you to be all starry-eyed. You married the only Mr. Perfect and left the rest of us with the jerks and the losers.”
“Wayne isn’t perfect.” But then Karen smiled, her plain face suddenly almost pretty. “But I’ll admit that he’s darned close.”
“Just because this Mike guy is pretty and gave her flowers doesn’t mean Catherine should get tangled up with him.”
Catherine cleared her throat rather forcefully. “I am still here, you know. I can hear every word of this totally inane conversation.”
Karen giggled. “We haven’t forgotten about you.”
“Then could we change the subject now, please?” Though she knew it was foolish, she had the unsettling feeling that Mike would somehow know they were talking about him.
Karen looked a bit reluctant, but Julia was more than happy to veer the conversation into a new direction. Very aware of Mike sitting on the other side of the room, but trying to pretend she had forgotten all about him, Catherine focused intently on her friends as they finished their meals.
Catherine spotted Mike across the apartment compound as she climbed out of her car late the next afternoon. A toolbox in his hands, he was chatting with an older man she knew to be a longtime resident. Other tenants were moving around the parking lot, either walking to or away from their vehicles. She noted that several of them called out greetings to Mike, to which he responded with cordial waves.
He had certainly made himself known during his brief time on this job. She had lived here almost two years and knew the names of maybe three of her neighbors.
Finishing his conversation, he turned her way, saw her and lifted his hand in a wave. She paused in the shade of the oak tree next to her apartment building when he indicated that he wanted to speak with her.
“How’s it going?” he asked as he approached her.
“Very well, thank you. And you?”
“Not bad. I just wanted to tell you