“Besides… you can’t cancel on Paul; that would be rude.”
“Well, we have been an item for a few weeks now, he understands my moods.”
“He’s certainly an understanding man, that Paul,” Angela muttered under her breath. “Well, I think you should get out. It would do you some good. You’re always in this big old house.” Michael had told her he needed all day to prepare for the party, and Angela was doing her best to help.
After she left Dot, Angela made her way to Michael’s office. She usually led herself to the door as it was a bit of a struggle for Dot, unless of course, she made a little detour to chat with Michael. Luckily she was able to catch him in his office. She stood outside the door while he was on the phone. He waved her inside and she took a seat in the chair facing his desk.
“You will be here at noon,” he asked. “Is there an alternate number I can reach you at? A cell number?” he scribbled downon his notepad, still holding the receiver to his ear. “Well, thank you, we’ll see you then.” He hung up.
“I was speaking to the party planner,” he whispered. “She’s in charge of everything, catering, seating, decorations. That stuff is not really my thing,” he told her, smiling.
“Me either. If I planned the party, you’d have some bowls of Bits ’n Bites and some soda,” she joked.
He laughed. “Well, Bits ’n Bites are pretty good.”
She loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Who knew crow’s feet could be so sexy.
Get a grip.
“I came to let you know Dot’s talking about cancelling the lunch and matinee and staying here on Saturday,” she whispered.
“Oh great,” he said, exasperated.
“She seems like she knows something,” she added.
“She probably does and she’s purposely being a pain in the rear.” He put away his notes. “It’s fine. I’ve had forty-two years to get used to it.”
Forty-two; interesting.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get her out of here.”
“Yep. Even if I have to physically kick her out, I will.”
He was quiet for a moment and walked around his desk, towards her.
“Angela, are you and my mother going to start another book?” he asked, leaning against the desk.
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
“Oh...” he said. She was confused by his reaction.
“Is it all right if I keep reading to her?” she asked, not sure if she was welcomed anymore. There had been a lot of tension between them. Maybe it was all too much for him.
“Yes, of course,” he said. “I like having you here.” he told her.
“I like coming here too,” she said, truthfully. She could feel his breath and her heart thumped just a little faster. An awkward silence divided them.
“I guess I should get going,” she said as she made her way out of her chair. She had just had a ‘moment’. She could not be having a ‘moment’. She was an engaged woman.
“I have a present to go buy,” she added, practically running out of the office.
“Me too,” he told her.
She made her way to the coat room, feeling nauseous, her heart was beating fast. What was that? Butterflies? She had forgotten how those felt.
The opening was taking place at a little art gallery downtown Toronto calledLa Roche. They lucked in on a parking spot not too far away.
“It must be our lucky night,” Krysta said, in a fantastic mood.
