Dylan appreciated his organizing it. He treated Dee right, and Dylan was happy to show up and do what was expected of him.
He got in line behind the blonde. As he drew closer to her, his heart seemed to wake up, beating a little faster, and he didn’t really get why. She was a random girl in a café, and not his type at all.
His last girlfriend, Lauren, had been his type, and they’d probably still be together if she hadn’t taken the job in New York. She’d scored an incredible opportunity, so he hadn’t blamed her. Dylan couldn’t see himself ever moving there, not while Dee and the boys were here in Denver. Truthfully, he also couldn’t imagine leaving the mountains behind, even if he didn’t spend as much time in the outdoors as he would’ve liked. Lauren had made a very grown-up decision to not try the long-distance thing. Maybe it was too bad that it hadn’t mattered to either of them that much.
He hadn’t dated since. Vaguely, he imagined that first he’d get another promotion at the firm. He couldn’t focus on relationships and making VP at the same time.
The blonde woman told the lady behind the counter, “I need twenty-five cupcakes.”
No, no, no. Dylan’s gaze flew to the bakery counter. Five kinds of cupcakes, six of each flavor. Exactly how many he needed. Except she was going to take most of them. “You can’t do that,” he blurted out.
She turned her head to regard him. “Excuse me?”
Okay. He could’ve sounded more reasonable. “I need them for my sister’s birthday party.” There. She wouldn’t be able to argue with that. She’d know now that he was a nice guy, too.
“Is that birthday party at eight-thirty in the morning?”
He snorted. “No, it’s tonight, but—”
“Then you have time to go somewhere else, and I don’t.” She smiled as if that settled it. The lady behind the counter began putting the cupcakes in a big box.
He wasn’t ready to give up yet. “I don’t have time. I’m very busy.”
“Everyone’s busy,” she said lightly. “Not just you.”
Everyone wasn’t as busy as he was. “So what is it, one of your students’ birthdays?” She nodded. “Aren’t the kids supposed to bring those?”
“Some kids come from homes where…” She shook her head. “There’s either not enough money or not enough paying attention.”
That hit him right in the gut. He’d grown up in one of the latter. His memories transported him back to the first grade, when his best friend at the time loudly asked him why he hadn’t brought treats for his birthday. He hadn’t remembered that in years. After his mom had died, his dad had been distant, sleepwalking through life, not keeping track of even some very basic things. Dylan had been too young to process all that at the time. He’d just felt embarrassed and angry.
This woman looked out for neglected children, and that made something turn over in his heart.
“That’s very kind of you,” he said.
The lady behind the counter said, “That’ll be eighty dollars and twenty-five cents.”
Dismay flashed across her features. Clearly, it was more than she’d expected. Well, she was a teacher; she probably didn’t make a big salary.
“I’ll get that,” he said.
She gave him a puzzled frown and the bakery lady said, “She was here first.”
He said to the teacher, “No, I—I’ll get them for you.” Her eyes went wide, as though he’d taken leave of his senses. “For the kids, I mean,” he added.
She shook her head, though a smile played at her lips. “I can’t let you do that.”
“I insist.” Maybe he was being overbearing. He held up his hands. “I mean, unless you say no again.”
That made her laugh. “Okay, since it’s for the kids, I’ll let you.” He loved her voice, with its wry drawl. It sounded like smoked honey. Her cheeks flushed pink. Wow. Was she ever pretty when she blushed.
He pulled out his wallet, counted out the money, and handed it over. The teacher gave the woman behind the counter a delighted look and said, “Yay,” and the woman smiled back. As Dylan took his change, the teacher picked up the box of cupcakes. “Thank you,” she told him. “That’s very generous.”
Dylan realized the couple behind them was watching him—the same couple he’d seen in the parking lot. While he hadn’t minded them noticing his nice car or his expensive suit, he now felt self-conscious. He shrugged and said to the teacher, “My good deed for the day.”
“You do a good deed every day?” She sounded impressed.
“Um…no. Almost never.”
“Oh.” She appeared to be at a loss. “Well, I should go.”
“Yeah. Nice meeting you.—I’m actually heading out too.”
She nodded and they both moved toward the exit. Ughgh. There was nothing more horrible than essentially saying goodbye to someone and then continuing to walk alongside them. To diffuse the weirdness, he said, “I’m Dylan, by the way.”
“Paige.”
Get her number.
He pushed the idea out of his head. He wasn’t the kind of guy who tried to get women’s phone numbers right away. And if he asked, she’d think he’d paid for the cupcakes to make her owe him, which wasn’t true at all.
Still, he’d like to run into her again. As friends, or friendly acquaintances. As he held the door open for her, he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.” She would’ve been pretty hard to miss.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here. But it’s right by the school.”
He nodded. “I come here a lot to work.” In fact, it had been a long time since he’d last stopped in, too.
“What do you do?”
“I’m in investment banking.” He waited for one of the usual comments: how he must make a lot of money, or how he must be very smart.
She laughed. “I don’t really know what that is, but it sounds awful.”
It is awful.
As he brushed away the unexpected thought, she said, “Thanks again,” and turned and walked down the sidewalk. He’d parked in the opposite direction, and he headed that way, but couldn’t resist a backward glance. She was bending over to put the cupcakes in a bright yellow VW bug—of course, that was what she’d drive. She straightened and looked back at him. He gave what he hoped was a casual wave and turned away again.
As he got into his own car, he regretted not telling her that his job wasn’t awful. Nobody loved their work. Possibly she did, but that wasn’t the norm. That was why they called it Work and not
