Page 7 of Daring to Love

She waves the hand holding her apple under my now, clearly impatient to hear my answer.

“Answer my question.”

“Okay.” I have to think about it before I can recall my zodiac sign. “Aries.”

“Oooh,” she titters at me. “That makes sense.”

More confused than ever, I turn in my seat to better face her. “What makes sense?”

“You. When I saw you, I knew you’d either be an Aries or a Taurus.” She leans towards me and whispers, “I have a sixth sense about these things, you see. Today is going to be a very good day, laddie.”

“It hasn’t been that great so far.”

“Bah!!” she scoffs. “Not even noon yet. Plenty of things could still happen that’ll make you go to bed tonight with a smile on that pretty mouth.”

I laugh at her assessment of my lips. We finish eating, and I know I can’t linger any longer. I rake a hand through my hair and stand up. “I have to get on my way but thank you for the apple. It cheered me up.”

She mirrors my move and nods in farewell as she turns in the other direction.

“You’re welcome. Make sure you catch that young woman, eh?”

Her words make me whip my head around. “What?”

She rolls her eyes at me, and I wonder why she appears to be exasperated with me.

“Pardon me,” I try again.

“She’s not going to be easy, but you don’t want easy. Do try to be patient with her – she has a lot to lose if you don’t.”

I take a step in her direction. “Wait!”

She turns, walking backwards a few steps as she waves me off, a secretive smile gracing her lips.

“Get on with you, lad. You don’t have time to dawdle.” She turns a corner, disappearing behind a few trees, and I’m left here, practically unable to move. It feels like my feet are stuck to the pavement, and I shake my head. I huff loudly.

“What the fuck just happened?”

This day just got stranger than it already was. A full minute passes before I shake off the peculiar meeting and walk in the direction of the university. I push the old lady from my mind and focus on the tidbit of information the dated article gave me. The more I think about it, the more curious I get about this tiny dancer that my editor seems to be so taken with. My journalist senses take over, and I know that this story is going to be much bigger than I initially thought. That’s always been the way; call it a sixth sense or instincts, but when I get this feeling, I instantly get excited. That’s the reason I’m a bloody good journalist.

When I don’t get caught doing things that border on the line of unethical, that is.

But, onwards and upwards and all that…

She said she was going to class. All I have to do is find out where she’s going to be later, I’ll use all my knowledge about women to charm her knickers off and invite her out to dinner.

Satisfied with my plan, my lips stretch in a confident smile. I’m like a dog with a bone. I’ll gain her confidence. When I picture her standing in front of me, grey eyes wild as she peered up at me, I chuckle to myself. She looked rather adorable, to be honest, though I wouldn’t call her a classic beauty. No, her wide mouth doesn’t fit her heart-shaped face, but the smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose were rather endearing.

I wonder what her laugh sounds like.

No sooner has the thought entered my mind before I force it away.

She’s a story, not someone I should woo or have a good time with. I can’t make the same mistake twice. I refuse to think of her in any other way than a means to an end.

The large, black bag she clutched at her chest when I knocked on her door springs to mind, and I purse my lips. She’ll be at some dance studio, I’m sure of it.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I smile in confidence. The little thing doesn’t know me yet, but she’ll learn soon enough that Finlay Jensen doesn’t give up.

I won’t take no for an answer.