“I did my first blog last night,” Susan said. “And I’ve already had half a dozen emails.” She screwed up her nose. “Most weren’t very polite.”
“Most?” asked Connor.
Susan grinned and picked up her phone. She thumbed to the photo of Tyler and his daughter and handed it to Christina. “This is Tyler, Nolan’s younger brother. He wrote me a really nice email offering himself as a prospective candidate if his older brother rejects me at the next stage.”
“Cute,” Christina said, passing Susan’s phone to Julia. “What happened to the kid’s mother?”
“He said his wife died of cancer a few years ago,” Susan said.
“Are you sure he’s who he says he is?” Connor demanded.
“He gave me his phone number and his email address, told me his name and gave me personal details. He didn’t come across as a creep, but he told me I was welcome to check him out.”
“Send me his details,” Connor said. “I’ll do it for you.”
Susan nodded, happy to accept the offer. Connor was the computer wizard, and he’d know exactly where to look.
Julia cocked her head, her blonde curls swinging against her cheek with the action. “You like him.”
“Yeah. I shouldn’t. He’s three years younger than me,” Susan said.
“Three years is nothing,” Maggie said. “You seem more excited about him than his brother. I say go for it.”
“After I’ve checked him out,” Connor said in a stern voice.
Susan gave him a cocky salute. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll do my searches tonight and let you know by tomorrow at the latest.”
“Thanks,” Susan said. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re going to cheer my team on this afternoon,” Connor said. “It’s the least I can do in return.”
“Tyler Penrith is who he says he is,” Connor said the next day after yet another dance practice. “Nothing bad jumped out at me during my searches.”
“So what are you going to do?” Maggie asked.
“I’m not sure. I have my group date on Wednesday afternoon. We have to meet Nolan at Downtown and were told to wear comfortable clothes and footwear.”
Julia frowned. “You don’t know what you’re going to do or where he’s taking you?”
“No, which makes it difficult to know what to wear,” Susan said.
“Do you know where the other farmers are taking their dates?” Christina asked.
Susan jumped to her feet and started pacing. “No, I asked, but they’re not telling us anything.”
“The comfortable shoes direction makes me think there will be walking,” Connor said.
“Wear your runners—the black ones or a pair of comfy boots,” Christina said. “The weather could do anything, but check the forecast. I’d go for layers. Jeans and a shirt with a vest and a waterproof jacket. A colorful scarf and maybe a hat.”
“Take a small daypack instead of a purse,” Maggie suggested. “That way if you need to peel off layers, it will be easier to carry them.”
Susan discovered the women’s idea of comfortable dress varied considerably when she joined Nolan’s group at Downtown, not far from the Britomart train station. Only three of them wore flat shoes. Susan had kept her makeup light and natural and wore a sage green beanie to counteract the wind whistling along Quay Street.
A cameraman—the same one who’d delighted in her mishaps—stood beside Nolan, his camera already panning their faces and recording their reactions to Nolan. Susan stood quietly, surveying her competition.
“Put us out of our suspense,” one of the women demanded.
