Page 6 of Catching Fire

With the buttons now properly in alignment, he picked up three neckties off the dresser. Holding each one up, he frowned. None seemed right. The fourth answer, of course, was no tie. But what kind of woman was she?

She was a chemist. She'd been in professional clothing in the elevator, but that was because she'd been going to a work meeting. This was a date and he didn’t wear suits to work … not that kind anyway.

Tossing the ties back onto the dresser, he opted for the middle ground. He was in a dress shirt, nice slacks, and he was taking her dancing. He undid the top two buttons, too.

Of course, right then his phone beeped with a reminder and he realized he was running late. He was not going to be late for Seline, hence all the reminders he’d set. This one told him to head into the kitchen. He tossed together a peanut butter sandwich. If he didn’t eat something now, his stomach would growl, and she’d wonder what kind of sasquatch she’d agreed to go out with.

Kalan scarfed it down, brushed his teeth again, and headed out the door on time.

The apartment he left behind was small and spare. Not ugly, but not pretty either. Nothing like what Sebastian and his mother had done up. Instead, Kalan had taken a small apartment with small utility bills. A place that only needed small amounts of furniture. His intent had been to keep the rest of the money for a nicer car.

But, even as he climbed in and strapped on his seat belt, he wondered if Seline would judge his choice. She probably out-earned him. Firefighting was like that: You did the job because you loved it. The promotions were more effort than they paid out in cash and, unless you became chief, you might not hit the point where you could support a family on only your salary.

There wasn't much room for more than the basics unless he picked up second jobs. He'd have to keep picking up second jobs if he was going to continue to date Seline.

Slow down, cowboy, he told himself. He had to make it through the first date before he pulled the trigger on anything else.

When he pulled up to her driveway a few moments later, her front door opened and she stepped out. His heart stuttered. A first date shouldn’t do this to him. But she did.

Seline wore a pale blue, floaty dress that offered a nod to the last day of summer. His gaze scanned down to her feet, noticing that while she wore heels, they looked relatively solid for dancing. He hadn't quite told her where he was taking her, only offered hints.

Unsure what to do now, he fell back on the normal pleasantries. Holding out one hand, he whispered, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She held on as she made her way down the front steps, obviously not needing anything from him. “You look very nice yourself.”

He handed her into the passenger seat and closed the door, not knowing what else to say. She didn’t need any of the coddling, but he believed in starting off chivalrous until she told him otherwise.

Conversation had come easy when they were trapped in an elevator together, but now he was nervous how to start. Luckily, she fastened her seat belt and turned slightly toward him, her hands on her knees. “You have not told me where we are going.”

He noticed she didn't use contractions and wondered if that meant she was nervous, because she'd used them in the elevator when she was calmer. In fact, the accent had almost disappeared entirely when he’d seen her on her way out of the building after retrieving her shoes. But it was back again now.

Interesting. He enjoyed finding out these little things about Seline Marchand.

“Do you want me to tell you or do you want it to be a surprise?”

She thought for a moment, then grinned and said, “Tell me.”

“It’s a place down in Beatrice.”

She grinned at the name, probably thinking the locals were very backwards, because the town wasn'tBe-atrice, like the normal pronunciation of the name. Nope, whoever had founded the place, put the stress on the second syllable. But Kalan kept going. “It's actually two places right next to each other. They decided they were better with an open area between them. One is a wonderful Italian restaurant and the second place is a dance club.”

“A club?” she asked, her voice climbing, probably thinking he was taking her to a rave.

“Well, not quite like aclubclub. Like an old-school dance club. They teach swing classes on Friday nights.” He watched as her eyes lit up, and he realized he'd hit the nail on the head.Thank God. “Is Italian okay?”

“I love Italian food!”

He breathed easier then wondering if he'd made a mistake taking a French woman to a Nebraska trattoria. But then again, what French restaurant could he have taken her to around here that would be up to her standards?

So far, so good. He wanted to ask her everything, but something about her wide smile stopped him. He was going to have to keep an eye on her. He didn’t want to make her nervous, but he couldn’t help thinking he was taking her to a dance club when she looked like the perfect victim for the Blue River Killer.

Chapter Five

Seline put her hand to her stomach, stuffed beyond full. She’d tried not to over-eat, but it was delicious and the decadent ravioli in cream sauce had done her in.

Kalan stood and held out his hand.

“You want to dance?” she asked almost incredulously. “I'm not sure I can move.”

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