Page 76 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
“I was thinking I’d skip lunch today,” Cait mumbled. She sipped her lukewarm tea and frowned. “Joe will be taking me out to dinner soon. And frankly, I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“This is all my fault, isn’t it?” Lindy asked, looking guilty.
“Of course not. I’m just being practical.” If Cait was anything, it was practical—except about Paul. “Go ahead and order.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?”
Cait gestured nonchalantly. “Heavens, no.”
“If you’re sure, then I’ll have the turkey on whole wheat,” Lindy said after a moment. “You know how much I like turkey, though you’d think I’d have gotten enough over Thanksgiving.”
“I’ll just have a refill on my tea,” Cait said.
“You’re still flying to Minnesota for the holidays, aren’t you?” Lindy asked, fidgeting with the menu.
“Mmm-hmm.” Cait had purchased her ticket several months earlier. Martin and his family lived near Minneapolis. When their father had died several years earlier, Cait’s mother moved to Minnesota, settling down in a new subdivision not far from Martin, his wife and their four children. Cait tried to visit at least once a year. However, she’d been there in August, stopping off on her way home from a business trip. Usually she made a point of visiting her brother and his family over the Christmas holidays. It was generally a slow week on the stock market, anyway. And if she was going to travel halfway across the country, she wanted to make it worth her while.
“When will you be leaving?” Lindy asked, although Cait was sure she’d already told her friend more than once.
“The twenty-third.” For the past few years, Cait had used one week of her vacation at Christmas time, usually starting the weekend before.
But this year Paul was having a Christmas party and Cait didn’t want to miss that, so she’d booked her flight closer to the holiday.
The waitress came to take Lindy’s order and replenish the hot water for Cait’s tea. The instant she moved away from their booth, Lindy launched into a lengthy tirade about how she hated Christmas shopping and how busy the malls were this time of year. Cait stared at her, bewildered. It wasn’t like her friend to chat nonstop.
“Lindy,” she interrupted, “is something wrong?”
“Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?”
“I don’t know. You haven’t stopped talking for the last ten minutes.”
“I haven’t?” There was an abrupt, uncomfortable silence.
Cait decided it was her turn to say something. “I think I’ll wear my red velvet dress,” she mused.
“To dinner with Joe?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “To Paul’s Christmas party.”
Lindy sighed. “But what are you wearing tonight?”
The question took Cait by surprise. She didn’t consider this dinner with Joe a real date. He just wanted to talk over old times, which was fine with Cait as long as he behaved himself. Suddenly she frowned, then closed her eyes. “Martin’s a Methodist minister,” she said softly.
“Yes, I know,” Lindy reminded her. “I’ve known that since I first met you, which was what? Three years ago now.”
“Four last month.”
“So what does Martin’s occupation have to do with anything?” Lindy asked.
“Joe Rockwell can’t find out,” Cait whispered.
“I didn’t plan on telling him,” Lindy whispered back.
“I’ve got to make up some other occupation like...”
“Counselor,” Lindy suggested. “I’m curious, though. Why can’t you tell Joe about Martin?”
“Think about it!”
