The Christmas Date. Michele DunawayЧитать онлайн книгу.
me the house. It’s paid for. Already the property value has gone up ten percent. It’s a good investment.”
Wendy was not to be daunted. “Exactly! She’d want you to sell and invest the money. Buy yourself some slinky clothes, get a hip condo and find a nice man to warm your bed. I’m sure your grandmother didn’t want you to live alone and celibate on a street full of geriatrics who have retired to central Florida for fun in the sun. Stop suppressing your sexuality. I mean, when was the last time you kissed someone?”
Forever. The image of the guy at the gas station jumped into Kate’s head again and she slumped. As if such a guy would ever consider her.
“Look, I’m not like you,” she said softly. Men of all types flocked to Wendy and she went through them like candy, claiming she quickly got bored. “I grew up on that street,” Kate continued, “I’m comfortable there. I’m busy with school, and most law-school grads are younger than I am. They didn’t opt for the night-school-takes-forever plan. I have to be competitive, so my grades are important.”
“You know I only want what’s best for you. As a friend of long standing, I have to tell you you’re becoming isolated. You’re losing touch.”
“Well, Nora does always drop hints for me to date her grandson, Niles,” Kate conceded.
Wendy scoffed. “Yeah, right. Any grandson of Nosy Nora is bound to be a geek.”
Perhaps, and Kate didn’t want to date Niles any more than she wanted to date someone else. Seeing Kate’s silence as indecision, Wendy overrode Kate’s last defense.
“Kate, today is November thirtieth. You can put off studying for one night, especially since it’s the weekend. Get out and live a little. Hang out with all your friends. We’ve missed you, me in particular.”
“Wendy…” Kate said.
Her friend stood firm. “Kate, you cannot base every guy on Jack the Jerk. I know he hurt you, but put it behind you. We’ll have fun.”
Kate picked up the troll doll she kept on her desk and gave him a vicious twirl. His orange hair spiked. Although the idea didn’t sit well, maybe she did need to pick up a man she didn’t care about and do the deed, just see if the lack of passion had been more Jack’s fault than hers. And she had missed hanging out with her friends. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Super.” Wendy smiled now that the matter was settled. “I’ll pick you up at eight. Be ready. Wear something sexy.” With that, Wendy headed for the elevator. Kate stood up, peered over the cubicle walls and watched her walk away.
“Eight o’clock,” Wendy called as the elevator doors opened. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t.” Kate slumped back in her chair, ready to put her lack of a love life behind her and get back to work.
“GIN.”
As Nora spread her winning hand on the card table, revealing the jack of clubs Frieda needed, Frieda tossed hers down in disgust. She’d been playing cards with Nora for over thirty years, but she’d never been beaten this bad by her best friend and neighbor, the self-titled Queen of Dogwood Lane. “That’s the sixth time in a row,” Frieda said, miffed about her current winless streak. This was supposed to be a fun way to relax after helping Nora put up her Christmas decorations. No one was as serious about Christmas as Nora; she had everything up by the end of November.
“I can’t help that I’m a winner. When you’re hot, you’re hot.” Nora grinned, the smile lines at her mouth deepening.
Frieda snorted and reached for her cup of spiced tea. While good, it wasn’t as cinnamon-y as hers. “You haven’t been hot in over forty-five years. Now, if you want hot, I’ve heard that a single man is moving into our neighborhood.”
“You’re so far behind. You heard right and I knew that months ago,” Nora said. She considered herself not only the mistress of Dogwood Lane’s grapevine, but the Neighborhood Watch leader, as well. She shuffled the cards. “Myra’s granddaughter told me who bought it.”
Frieda arched a gray eyebrow and waited as Nora dealt another game. “You have to admit that this is exciting news. We haven’t had a single man on this street in years. I mean, not counting Elmer. He’s eighty. I heard the new guy is thirty-three. Maybe our block will become hip again.”
“Doubtful. The only new hip around here is Sue Ellen’s artificial one.”
“So what do you think he looks like?” Frieda asked. Sue Ellen’s surgery was old news.
Nora shrugged. “Not as good as my Niles, I’m sure.”
Frieda refrained from rolling her eyes. Everyone on the block knew that Nora worshipped the ground her middle grandson walked on. Although her own children declared her more of a meddler, Nora had managed to get two of her six grandchildren hitched.
All of Nora’s children were scattered around the country, and Niles lived closest. Nora usually traveled over the Christmas holidays to visit everyone, but this year everyone, including Niles, was coming to Orlando. So he’d be in town in a little less than four weeks.
Frieda peered at her cards. “Wouldn’t it be great if the new neighbor and Kate hit it off? She’s been so lonely since Sandra died two years ago, and well, you remember how disastrous her last relationship was. Who knows? Perhaps it’ll be love at first sight with the boy next door.”
It was Nora’s turn to scoff. “Absolutely not. The last thing Kate needs is some guy who will break her heart again. She should date Niles. He’s perfect for her.”
“He lives in Jacksonville,” Frieda pointed out.
“So? They have lawyers in Jacksonville, too, I’m sure.”
Frieda managed not to shudder as she drew a card from the pile. While Nora was an avid matchmaker and Frieda often assisted in her schemes, Frieda’s gut said no way to Niles and Kate as a couple.
Nora removed the queen of spades from the discard pile and added it to her hand. “Sandra would approve of Niles. He’s a nice, hardworking boy with a very good job.”
Sandra had raised Kate ever since her mother had dropped her off when she’d been six, and Frieda was positive Sandra would turn over in her grave first before agreeing. Still, Frieda could hope that maybe the new guy would be perfect for Kate. After all, Frieda and Nora had promised Sandra when she’d first gotten ill that they’d look after Kate. Of course, Nora was starting to think that meant Kate should be married off.
Frieda glanced out the window and across the street. Both houses, Kate’s and the new neighbor’s, remained dark. “When’s he arriving, anyway?” Frieda asked.
Nora frowned. “That I don’t know. I heard he’s a photojournalist who’s always jaunting off somewhere. The moving van arrived weeks ago and unloaded, so his stuff’s there. If he doesn’t show up soon, his house will be the only one on the block without holiday decorations. That would be an eyesore.”
Frieda studied her cards. If she drew the two of clubs she’d win. “Maybe he’ll be as sexy as that Arthur Kent. Remember him from the first Gulf conflict?”
“Of course I remember that far back. I had cable long before it was fashionable. You really should move into this century. Anderson Cooper’s the star now. Gin. So, where do you think Niles should take Kate? The theater? Ballroom dancing? The Nutcracker will be in town for a limited run starting next week.”
Or none of the above, if she’s lucky—unlike me, Frieda thought as she tossed her cards down, defeated again. Nora peered over her cat-eye rims. “Well?”
“Uh…” Frieda stalled. Everyone knew how tenacious Nora was. Somehow Frieda would have to help Kate get out of this one. Behind the scenes, that is. “Why don’t you let Kate decide what she wants?”
After all, December 1 would initiate twenty-five days of pure