Page 28 of That Birthday in Barbados
He’s standing there in the open doorway of my room, looking at me as if he thinks the same might apply to what I’ve done with myself.
“Come in,” I say, sweeping an arm inward, and adding, “I just need to add earrings, and I’m ready.”
He follows me in past the dark wood closet and mini bar and into the bedroom. I walk quickly past the bed, as if the veritable elephant has appeared in the room, and lead him through the glass pane doors onto the terrace. “Make yourself comfortable,” I say. “I’ll just be a minute.”
He sits on the small sofa near the rail, instantly dwarfing it. “Our reservation is at 7:30. I’m early. No hurry.”
I head for the bathroom. I close the door and stare at my face in the mirror. Did I look like this when I arrived yesterday? I have an instant flash of the tired, sun-starved face I’d studied in this same mirror last night before going to bed. No. I had not looked like this. Not. At. All.
My cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright. There’s color in my lips, as if all the blood has rushed there like they’re waiting to be kissed.
Ridiculous!
I call myself on the fantasizing. That is absolutely all itcould be since I am having dinner with a man nine years younger than I am who lives on an island in a permanent state of vacation. Andlooks like he walked out of a cologne ad in a men’s magazine. Could that be any more different from my regular life?
No. I repeat: no.
I grab the earrings from the jewelry case I’d stowed in a side drawer, practice patience as I pop off the back and slip the stud through my ear.
This is not a date.Repeat after me, Catherine.This is not a date.
I draw in a reservoir of air and walk back to the terrace, putting in place my most convincing platonic smile.
At my entrance, he stands.“Before I told you how beautiful you look, I wanted to see if the earrings made a difference.” He leans back and gives me a long surmisal. “Nope. You were beautiful before the earrings. But I like them. Can’t go wrong with diamonds.”
I laugh softly, feeling my cheeks light up with heat.“Thank you. I’m ready whenever you are,” I say, suddenly sorry we have to walk through the bedroom again.
“After you,” he says.
I lead the way across the marble floor, deliberately ignoring the bed and the fact that it suddenly seems enormous.
“Looks comfy,” Anders throws out behind me.
“It is,” I say, grabbing a shawl from the chest of drawers. “I mean for sleeping, that is.”
Without missing a beat, he says, “What else would you be using it for?”
“We’d better hurry,” I say, heading for the door. “Don’t want to be late.”
I hear him laughing as I click down the marble stairs, holding onto the rail as I go.
“Hold up there,” he says. “We have plenty of time.”
“Oh, I think it’s better not to be late.”
He catches up with me, still smiling.
“Stop,” I say.
“What? It’s just too tempting to tease you.”
“Forty-year-olds aren’t teasable.”
“To the contrary, I find you very teasable.”
Again, I try to ignore him. “So tell me where we’re eating.”
“She’s ignoring me.”
