pause ensued, while they both took refuge in sipping coffee, and finally she blurted, “I have no idea how to do this. I’m so sorry, it’s my first time.” She sighed, sensing the genuine niceness of this man, and opened up even more. “In fact, it’s been a long time since I had any kind of a date. I’m so out of practice I have no idea where to begin.”
It was as though her confession took all the awkwardness out of their date. Ron nodded with sweet understanding. “It sucks. Really.”
She was surprised into a spurt of laughter by his sad admission.
Then realizing how that must sound, he added, “I don’t mean meeting you, but online dating is a new skill you have to learn.” He shrugged. “I’ve been doing this for a few months now and I find the hardest part is that people often, when they write their profiles, put a description of what they wish they were like rather than something that’s actually true.”
She thought of the way she’d fudged her height, claiming to be five-four, and tried very hard not to blush.
“The worst thing for me was the bad spelling and grammar. I don’t think I’m too fussy, but if a man can’t spell relationship, I really don’t think I want to have one with him.”
“True. For me the biggest turnoff is women who are so obviously looking for the father of their future children that they all but ask you for a sperm count.”
Once again she laughed, sensing that maybe he wasn’t quite as dull as he appeared. “I’ve tried very hard to be honest,” he said.
“You told me all about your work,” she reminded him, “but very little about yourself.”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m thirty-seven. Single, I’m a CPA.”
“Whoa,” she said. “We’re getting back to your résumé again.”
“Sorry. I’m not one to wear my heart on my sleeve.”
“Whereabouts do you live?” she asked, seeking for some topic that they could talk about.
“I’m within walking distance of Independence Hall,” he said and she wondered if he was being deliberately vague in case she turned out to be a stalker or crazy person.
“Wow. In Society Hill? That’s a nice area.”
He paused for a second, then said, “I inherited the house from my mother. It’s a Federal-style town house. She recently passed.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said with ready sympathy. She couldn’t imagine life without her mother, who was both nosy and annoying and the person who loved Karen most in all the world.
“Cancer,” he said. “It was very hard.”
She heard the almost hidden quiver in his voice and impulsively reached over to lay a hand on his. Because she didn’t know what to say, she said nothing, merely offered her silent support.
After a second, he said, “My only regret is that she didn’t get to see me settled, with grandchildren. It was her dearest wish.”
“I’m sure she was very proud of you.” She searched for something else to say. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“No, I’m an only child.” And she received the impression that he’d been his mother’s pride and joy. She didn’t ask, but she suspected he’d never left home, had nursed his mother through her final illness and now, lost and alone, was trying to find a substitute.
“How about you?” he asked, obviously determined to steer clear of painful subjects.
“I’m divorced.” She didn’t think he wanted to hear the ugly details. Well, who would? So she merely said, “I’ve been single for almost five years now. I run my own wedding planning business.”
He began asking her precise and intelligent questions about her business and she felt that it was a relief to both of them to discuss something as impersonal as business.
At the end of an hour, she knew two things. One, Ron was a genuinely nice man, she suspected he was an excellent accountant, and two, she felt not the tiniest spark of attraction.
They exchanged business cards and agreed to meet for lunch one day soon. She had no idea whether either of them would follow up, but she was toying with the idea of hiring him for her business.
They shook hands at the end of their coffee date and he headed one way while she turned in the opposite direction.
She was trying to decide whether the coffee date had been a success or a disaster, when a voice hailed her, “Karen.”
She glanced up to see Chelsea standing in front of her, a canvas bag of fresh food in her arms. Beside her was her fiancé, David, loaded down with two more bags. She was struck with how good those two looked together, two tall, gorgeous people who were so clearly meant for each other you could feel their bond.
After the greetings were over, Chelsea turned to her lover and said, “David, do you see that fish market way over there?”
He glanced at his woman with slightly raised brows. “You mean the one with the long lineup?”
“That’s the one. Can you go buy six spot prawns and a pound of fresh crabmeat?”
He glanced from one woman to the other. “You wouldn’t be trying to get rid of me, so you can do the girlfriend gossip thing, would you?”
Chelsea grinned at him. “Do you want what I can whip up with six spot prawns and a pound of crabmeat or don’t you?”
With a good-natured shrug, he said, “Goodbye, Karen.” And wandered off.
“That was rude. We’ll see each other at work tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait until tomorrow. Believe me, he’ll end up happy when his dinner is served. And I have to hear about your date.”
She made a wry face. “He was really nice. A truly nice man.”
“That sounds very unpromising.”
“It’s not his fault. I wouldn’t even be doing this if it wasn’t for Dee, my darling assistant who seems to think I’m in desperate need of a man.”
“She’s young, what does she know?”
Karen snorted. “She thinks she knows more than I do. Know what I found on my desk Friday morning?”
“What?”
“A box of condoms and a note from Dee reminding me to always play it safe.”
Chelsea had the kind of full-bodied laugh that made strangers stop and grin as though just being around her made them part of the fun. “What did you do with them?”
“I put them in my desk drawer. I have everything in there from hemorrhoid cream, which is good for minimizing puffy eyes on brides and their mothers before a photo shoot, to extra nylons, shoelaces, pins, tape, flower wire, film, batteries, hair spray,
