Turnabout's Fair Play (23 page)

Yeah, actually, he did. Even though he didn’t know who she was, he sort of felt like he knew something about her from the characteristics and personality she built into her characters. He genuinely hoped she hadn’t experienced some kind of illness or tragedy. That’s what he could say.

I hope that there has been no illness or family emergency. Even though I don’t know you, I’m sending up a prayer for your health and well-being
.

Really? A prayer?

Sure, why not. After all, one of the aspects of her writing that he enjoyed was her inclusion of God in this fantasy world.

May blessings follow your steps
.

There. He closed with the phrase LadyNelle had created as the standard farewell for her characters.

Before he could second-guess himself, he clicked S
UBMIT
.

Though he hoped for an error screen that would tell him that not only had his message not gone through but the website had eaten it and it no longer existed, he saw a splash screen with a confirmation that his message would be delivered to LadyNelle.

Why couldn’t he meet someone like her in real life? Not the user, of course—she was probably one of those strange, fairy-wannabe types who lived and breathed this kind of fantasy stuff—but the character she’d created out of nothing more than a brief appearance in one single story out of the entire legend.

Before he could log off the site, a box popped up in the corner notifying him that he had a new direct message from another user.

Surely she hadn’t answered that quickly. He clicked over to his messages. Nope, not from her but …

From:
Galahad37138

To:
TennesseeGawain

Subject:
Is that you?

If this isn’t the person I think it is, I apologize in advance. But from your posts in the community forums, as well as the fan fiction you’ve flagged as favorites, I’m taking a wild guess that TennesseeGawain is someone I grew up with in Murfreesboro, Tennessee
.

Did you ever call that girl who gave you her number at the King Arthur movie premiere?

Jamie laughed and switched over to his regular e-mail program. Before the big-budget film version of the Arthurian legend opened, he’d spent months collecting and creating pieces and parts for his Sir Gawain costume to wear to the midnight showing—right down to growing out his hair. Of course, explaining the reason for growing out his hair to people at work hadn’t been easy—and had shown him why keeping some things to himself was a good idea in the marketing business.

From:
Jamie O’Connor

To:
Danny Seung

Subject:
Yeah, It’s Me

You caught me. Yes, I’m TennesseeGawain on the King Arthur fan site. And if I’d ever run across your username, I’d have figured it was you, Galahad with a Murfreesboro zip code!

No, I never called that girl. In the light of day, and out of costume, it just seemed a little strange to me
.

How’s the new job going? Is there a time soon when you can get together for coffee or lunch or dinner or something? You see, I’ve been thinking about nursing school and would like a pro’s advice
.

Hope to catch up with you next week
.

—j

BTW—Mom says hi
.

Out of habit, Jamie proofread the e-mail before sending it—even knowing he had the spelling checker turned on. That had been a lesson learned early in his career.

Danny didn’t respond immediately, so he must have stepped away from the computer.

Jamie turned, facing out into the third bedroom of the townhouse, which served as his home office. If he was truly going to start working from home, and not just using this room for playing games on the desktop computer instead of the netbook, he should probably reorganize it, make sure he had appropriate office supplies so that he wasn’t running to the store every couple of days, and get that six-foot folding table out of the garage and set up in here for some extra work space.

He should…but he’d wait a couple of days. Organizing an office belonged to Monday morning, not Friday night.

So, now what? Six fifteen on a Friday and he had nothing to do. Back in the day, back when he’d been gainfully employed, he’d be with a dozen or more people hanging out somewhere like the Flying Saucer or Rippy’s or the Dan McGuinness Pub. For Jamie, it had been more about being around people and not having to face spending the evening alone at home. For everyone else, it had been about drinking away the workweek and starting the weekend with a hangover.

Well, whatever he did, he couldn’t stay here, not with the walls closing in on him like this. Not after a week of seeing only the others who chose to work at Starbucks or Panera—but who were all so focused on their own laptops that no one had time to chat. He’d gone over to Cookie’s house three days just to engage in face-to-face conversation with another human being—and because he knew he could indulge in the treats for which he’d named her as a child. She almost always had a batch of freshly baked cookies just waiting for someone to stop by and enjoy.

He turned back to face the computer. He supposed if he couldn’t find anything else to do, he could start studying for the entrance exam the nursing program at Aquinas College—the program he’d been looking at—required for admission. He’d been out of college for thirteen years; he’d probably forgotten more in those years than he learned in the four years as a student at MTSU. And with a business administration major, he’d taken only the required general science classes. So he’d have some basic subjects to catch up on before he could start taking any nursing courses.

He’d just transferred the study guide to the netbook and turned off the desktop when his phone rang. Grabbing it just before it vibrated itself off the desk, he accidentally hit the answer button without a chance to look to see who was calling.

“Hello?”

“Jamie, it’s your grandmother.” She never failed to identify herself if he didn’t address her by name when he answered.

“Hey, Cookie. What’s up?”

“I know you’re probably on your way out to have fun with your friends, but on the off chance you don’t have plans, I thought I’d call and see if you’d like to go out for dinner tonight.”

With the extra money coming in from the publishing house, he didn’t see any point in denying himself some funds for entertainment. “I don’t have any plans, and I’d love to go. Where did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking that we hadn’t been for sushi at Hanabi in quite some time.”

Jamie’s mouth began watering. “You’re right—we haven’t. That sounds perfect.”

“Good. I made a seven o’clock reservation for us.”

God bless his grandmother for assuming he’d want to go. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant at seven, then.”

Which gave him plenty of time to change into something other than cargo pants and a T-shirt. Even though the Japanese restaurant boasted a casual dining experience, he couldn’t disrespect Cookie by showing up in clothes he might wear to work in the yard or go hiking—or hang out at a coffeehouse or deli while working, as he’d done all day today.

Since he couldn’t be sure that Flannery McNeill would ever give him the time of day, maybe tonight he’d give Cookie the go-ahead to start introducing him to all of the unmarried granddaughters of her church friends she kept talking about.

“It looks awfully crowded. Are you sure we can get in?” Flannery hit the button on the remote to lock the car. “How did you even know this place exists? I work near here, and I’ve never heard of it.”

“A friend recommended it. I’m sure we can get a table.” Big Daddy opened the door for her and ushered her inside.

The crowd around the front door didn’t look promising. Flannery excused herself to get to the person who looked like she worked here. Beyond the hostess, she could see a couple of empty tables. Good. That meant they should be able to seat the people already waiting, cutting down their time. “Table for two, please.”

“Name, please.”

“McNeill.”

“About thirty minutes. Okay?”

“Thirty?”

“Okay?”

“Um…yeah, put us on the list for now. I’ll go talk to my grandfather.” Flannery made her way back to Big Daddy.

“Flan, look who I found.” Big Daddy grinned down at a redheaded woman. “You remember Maureen O’Connor.”

Flannery smiled—but then froze when Maureen’s grandson entered behind her. “It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. O’Connor. Jamie.”

He smiled. She twitched in annoyance when her pulse fluttered at the way his laugh lines crinkled around his eyes. She turned toward her grandfather. “They said it’s going to be thirty minutes for a table. There’s another Japanese restaurant not far from here. We could go see if we can get in there faster.”

“Oh—why don’t you join us? We have a reservation, so we shouldn’t have to wait at all.” Maureen looked up at Big Daddy.

Flannery’s pulse stopped fluttering. In fact, she was pretty sure her heart stopped altogether, not just from the flirtation in Maureen O’Connor’s gaze, but also from the look of satisfaction that passed between her and Big Daddy. “We can’t intrude—”

Big Daddy quelled Flannery with a glance and then smiled down at Maureen. “We’d love to join you.”

The two seniors moved past Flannery, who watched them walk toward the hostess, confounded by the suspicions flooding her mind.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jamie’s shoulder brushed against hers.

“That this is a setup?” Flannery kept her eyes turned away from him so that she wouldn’t have to admit how good he looked in his dark-blue, button-down shirt and khaki linen pants, despite the beard.

“But a setup for who?”

Both Flannery and Jamie ducked through the two or three parties waiting for tables when Maureen and Big Daddy motioned them forward. And though she wouldn’t do it to anyone else, she just couldn’t let Jamie’s grammatical error slip by. If he was going to annoy her, she’d annoy him right back. “It’s
whom
not
who
. And what do you mean, for whom?”

“I mean, did they do this just so they could see each other, or were they hoping to set the two of us up?” Jamie’s hand lightly touched her back as he escorted her through the restaurant behind their grandparents.

A shudder shimmied up Flannery’s spine from the feather-light contact. She tried to pretend it was revulsion at the thought of being set up with Jamie—but somehow, after that conversation at the airport a couple of weeks ago, instead of her hackles rising in annoyance whenever she saw him, she experienced a little wave of anticipation, of pleasure in seeing him.

Or maybe her fear of being left alone, left behind by Caylor and Zarah, blinded her to everything about him she’d found irritating in the past. Yes, that must be it.

Big Daddy and Maureen had already ensconced themselves on one side of the four-person table. Jamie held Flannery’s chair for her and waited until she was situated before he sat down beside her.

See, that’s what she meant. A couple of months ago, had he done that, she would have found it arrogant and condescending. But tonight…it was kind of sweet and endearing.

“Looks like we’re one menu short,” Maureen said.

“I’ll share with Flannery, since it looks like y’all have different length requirements for your arms.” Jamie raised his brows, ducked his chin, and winked at his grandmother—who did, indeed, hold the menu farther away while Big Daddy pulled his in close.

Jamie put the third menu—the one with the descriptions of the different sushi rolls—down on the table between them. Flannery’s arm burst into flames when his shoulder pressed against hers as they bent toward it to read. Hmm…now she was starting to believe in spontaneous human combustion. Great. She knew being around Jamie wasn’t a good idea.

“Ooh—I know what I’m getting. “Jamie’s low voice almost vanished into the din around them.

“What are you getting?” Three things on the menu looked great to her, but she could never decide until she knew what everyone else was having.

“A spicy crab roll and the spicy tuna roll. I probably won’t be able to eat all of it, though. What are you getting—maybe we could share?” His shoulder pressed against hers just a little harder.

A faint aroma of citrus tickled Flannery’s nose—something she’d noticed around him before. Citrus and maybe a little spice. Whatever it was, she liked it. Too much.

She couldn’t fall for this guy. Not when their first three meetings had turned into scenes from a bad 1980s high school movie—embarrassing and better forgotten. But maybe, just for tonight, she could pretend…. After all, she didn’t know anyone else who shared her preference for spicy sushi—he’d just named two of the three rolls she’d been considering.