I like and vice versa."
Marie chuckled and swept on a little blush, finally feeling half human. "It's taken me a while," she said, packing away her makeup in her purse. "But I guess I can now see why you found matrimony so distasteful."
"Distasteful?" Joanne asked, puckering up her lips and examining her own image in the mirror. "Heavens, did I say that?"
Marie slapped her on the arm. "You most certainly did! At least, that's how I took it."
"Well then, love," Joanne said, fiddling with her braid and pinching color into her cheeks. "Maybe you got that wrong, too."
"Joanne!" Marie said, her eyes sparkling with disbelief. "You're not—"
"I am," Joanne said with a cryptic smile.
Marie tugged on her bedtime socks, thinking about Joanne's remarks. She was certain the other woman wasn't telling her everything that was going on between her and Chad. At least their relationship had a chance. All this fantasizing about David Lake was getting out of hand. It was wonderful to imagine that he was Prince Charming, the gallant swain that romance novels were made of. But it would only be a matter of time before cold, hard reality hit.
David was sexy, attractive—yes. But Marie needed more. A person she could talk to. Somebody with whom she could share a passionate love of life. She'd never really had that with Cecil, or—goodness knows—with sexy Paul. With Paul, it had been all smoke and fire, until the whole thing had entirely burned out and Paul had gone on to someone else.
With Cecil—well, there wasn't exactly fire, but the two of them at least could carry on a conversation, even if they didn't always totally agree. Cecil simply worked too hard at being eccentric. And, to Marie, eccentric wasn't something you became, it was something you were—like it or not. But Cecil seemed to like the image of the "starving artist" very much. Organic foods and vegetarian cuisine were his mantra, but when no one was looking he was sneaking off for fast food burgers at the edge of town. Marie knew this because she'd found a whole store of paper wrappers wadded up under the front seat of his car.
If she'd applied half the investigative skill she used in tracking missing merchandise to dissecting her relationship with Cecil, she would have seen him for who he really was sooner. As it turned out, he'd been hiding more than the burger wrappers. He'd concealed his lust for another woman and the very important fact that he'd finally sold that incomprehensible book! He'd never even let her read it. Hardly a testament to the trust between them.
Marie nabbed the romance novel off her nightstand and settled back against the headboard.
She was curious to see what direction her favorite historical novelist, B. B. Knight, had taken the noble MacMillan clan... and their ignoble forefathers. If there was anything that could take Marie's mind off her worries, it was a muscular man in a kilt.
David pushed the disconnect button on his cell phone for the third time in a row. She would kill him, that's what she'd do. He checked his watch and saw it was five past nine. Books & Bistro had just closed its doors, and Marie had been nowhere in sight.
"Went home early," Joanne had told him. And then she'd surprised him by slipping him Marie's cell number.
David wasn't sure what Marie had told Joanne about him, but from the elderly woman's encouraging reception, David suspected that she felt a whole heck of a lot better about him than Marie did at the moment.
Until he drew his final breath, David would be haunted by the total disillusionment—and shock—he'd seen in Marie's eyes. She hadn't stayed to hand over the glasses. Just turned tail and run like a frightened rabbit.
Caroline had advised him to go after her. But he'd known there was no way on earth he could have explained away what she'd seen right then. Better to give her time, he'd decided. Even though Caroline had huffed and somehow sided with Marie. Holy cow, Caroline had caused the problem! And there she'd stood, slipping her skyscraper shoes back on, telling him that he was the one making mistakes.
David inhaled deeply and tried Marie's number again. He was just about to hang up a fourth time when she answered.
"Hello?" she said, as his throat closed up. "Anybody there?"
"Marie, this is David. David Lake," he said, praying she wouldn't press end call.
Of course it was David Lake. How many other Davids did