Page 44 of Call My Bluff
“Tuesday?”
“Yeah, likethisTuesday. The day after tomorrow? Forty-eight hours from now?”
The gears in Olivia’s mind started to spin. She hadn’t even realized Valentine’s Day was that week. She normally didn’t care, and Noah hadn’t said anything.
Noah hasn’t said anything!
Olivia felt her cheeks stretch into a slow grin. “Robin, you’re a genius!”
“I know,” her friend replied blithely. Then she paused and met Olivia’s eye. “Why?”
“Because it’s Valentine’s Day! Girlfriends care about Valentine’s Day, and he’s got a girlfriend now. He hasn’t said a thing! I bet it hasn’t even crossed his mind! Tuesday will get here, absolutely nothing will happen, and then I’ll have logical grounds to go all high-maintenance basket case on him, and that’ll be the end!”
Robin eyed her skeptically as a waitress came to refill their sodas. “I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” she said when the woman was gone.
Olivia only huffed good-naturedly, her mood dramatically improved. “Don’tPrincess Brideme. It’ll work this time,” she said.
Robin took a long slurp of her soda and gave a knowing sort of smile. “Whatever you say, my dear. Whatever you say.”
12
“Do you havea meat thermometer? I think that’s the only thing I forgot,” Noah asked as Lexie made her way to the kitchen door that Tuesday evening.
“Yeah, in that utensil drawer on your left,” she replied.
Noah yanked the drawer open and rummaged until he found what he needed. “Perfect, thanks.”
Lexie stood just on the edge of his peripheral vision, and he glanced over to see if she had any final instructions before she left for her own romantic evening. The expression on her face was one he couldn’t quite read.
“You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” she asked at last. “Because if you do, I’ll have to cut off your head; that’s what she would do for me.”
Noah chuckled and opened the oven door to baste the pork tenderloin again. The smell of soy sauce, garlic and thyme hit him square in the face, and his mouth watered; he hadn’t cooked anything this good in a long time. “Don’t worry, Lex,” he said.
“Okay,” she replied, though she still seemed unsure. “BecauseI really don’t understand whatever this is, and I don’t want to be the cause of—”
Noah shut the oven and reached over to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Lexie, really. It’s just dinner,” he assured her. “All you did was let me inside.”
She pursed her lips and grunted as she turned toward the hall. “Pretty fancy dinner... on Valentine’s Day,” she mumbled, and Noah watched as she moved out of sight. “Don’t make me regret this!” she called from the living room. “I’ll sic Jacob on you.”
Noah snorted and went back to slicing shallots on a bright-blue cutting board. “It’ll be fine, Lexie!” he called, but he wasn’t sure she’d heard before the front door shut behind her. “Besides,” he muttered to himself, “I could take Jake any day.”
Forty-five minutes passed while he cooked in silence, the sounds of his own utensils the only things to be heard. In addition to the tenderloin, the evening’s menu also included white-cheddar scalloped potatoes, steamed garlic beans and some cherry custard tarts he’d made ahead of time. He was particularly proud of those, since he’d never been good at desserts, but Olivia had a sweet tooth, and he was leaving no stone unturned.
“Besides, women like men who can cook,”he heard his mother say, and he let a smile spread across his face; “Operation End Game” would finally put that theory to the test. He hummed to himself as he pulled the meat from the oven and set it out to rest on the counter. His watch read 5:15 p.m., and according to Lexie, that meant Olivia should be pulling into the parking lot shortly. He went to set the table, tweaking an arrangement of pink roses while he was at it, then lit the tall, white tapers he’d found in a drawer at his house. He pressed a button on a small speaker, and soft jazz music filled the quiet space.
He was going to win this thing tonight, even if he had to bend over backwards to do it.
Olivia paused justoutside the door of her apartment and took a deep, grounding breath. Today had been a first in a lot of ways—and none of them good.
“Try not to take it home with you,”her friend Monica had advised, but that was easier said than done. Here Olivia was, at home, and she could still feel the ugliness of the day plastered across her skin. She wondered if it would ever wash off.
She exhaled again and pushed the door open—but that was as far as she got. Instead of a mercifully empty apartment, she found herself staring at Noah Campbell, who was standing beside her dining table in a dress shirt and dark jeans. It took several moments and a quick glance at the number on the door to assure herself that she was, in fact, walking into the correct apartment.
Her eyes skated across the table itself, which was covered in a cloth for probably the first time ever and set beautifully with real plates and silverware, three flickering candles and a vase of vibrant flowers. She sighed without meaning to. She didnothave the energy for this tonight.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Noah said smoothly. He looked like a cat who’d just cornered a mouse. “I hope you like surprises.”
Valentine’s Day.She’d completely forgotten.
