not sure what she's doing with the likes of you. But you better watch yourself with her. She's all class."
"She’s in her own class." I take his assessment of Kathryn onestep further.
"The minute you strode in here with Kathryn, your cards were marked with me. I may be an old man, but I have friends..." I detect a hint of a smile behind his eyes as his words trail off. It’s as if his words are meant more in jest than as a warning. Being a smart man, I decide to turn on the Kingsley charm.
"I understand completely. There's something special about her, and I intend to treat her as such." I follow my words with a slight wink. "I do have my limits around such a beautiful woman. It may be hard to rein myself in."
He laughs and walks away saying, "Good luck with that." I chuckle but quit the instant I see Kathryn walking toward us, looking confused. Probably rightly wondering what transpired between Maurice and me. And quite frankly, I'm not sure what just happened. Did he warn me or in the end encourage me? I'm totally confused, too.
"Kingsley, what did Maurice say to you?" Her question is spoken in more of a challenge.
"I'm sure you can guess. He has fatherly feelings concerning you and issued me a warning as far as you're concerned." My eyes shoot toward the front entrance where Maurice is standing, appraising me still. "I assured him that my intentions with you were noble."
Kathryn huffs at my statement. It’s a so und I don’t like at all. "Maurice is no fool. I'm sure he found your comment amusing to say the least."
"He definitely isn't a fool, but he made it clear that I would be one if I treated you badly."
"So, what's it like to have such a stellar reputation?" She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms defiantly over her chest. "Is it hard having men afraid to have you around the women in their life, those they respect?"
I chuckle under my breath, "Okay , you've made your point with me." Raising my hands in the air, I surrender to her ribbing of me. Truthfully, I have no defense to speak of, and I need to also do something rare for me and apologize.
"And I’m sorry about the comment I made before Maurice brought us the wine."
She speculatively squints one eye and purses her lips. Not the response I was hoping for with my apology. “Hmmm. I’m curious. How many times have you apologized for your behavior on a date?”
Shit, her question pins me to the wall, and I don’t see a way of escape. So I’ll aim for honesty, hoping she’ll give me a break.
“Zero, you’re the first, Kathryn.” A satisfied smile graces her face as she nods her head at me. “Please, can we change the subject?”
"All right. Tell me a little bit about where you grew up."
I flinch at her question, and I'm pretty sure she detects it with her keen psychologist's eye. I never discuss my hometown or upbringing with anyone. Only the guys who came with me from MIT to New York know a little bit about my past. But I wasn’t one to bring up the specifics about her or my childhood. Thankfully, they never pushed for them, either.
“I prefer to leave my past where it belongs. In my past." My mouth suddenly feels dry as my mind remembers the sound of the first handful of dirt hitting the top of Flora’s casket deep within the damp walls of her grave. Something in my gut twists and pulls. These dark memories bring back the pain of that day.
Kathryn’s eyebrows rise as she likely perceives my distress. But she appears to be more curious than concerned. And I know she'll continue to prod and poke around at my open sores. My mother’s death by her own hand; it’s something I still can’t speak about openly. Tom doesn’t know the specifics about her death but saw how much it troubled me. He urged me to talk to a therapist about it years ago, but he dropped the subject after I scoffed at his recommendations.
"I'm disappointed you don't want to talk about your childhood, but not really that surprised." She sips her wine, her
"She’s in her own class." I take his assessment of Kathryn onestep further.
"The minute you strode in here with Kathryn, your cards were marked with me. I may be an old man, but I have friends..." I detect a hint of a smile behind his eyes as his words trail off. It’s as if his words are meant more in jest than as a warning. Being a smart man, I decide to turn on the Kingsley charm.
"I understand completely. There's something special about her, and I intend to treat her as such." I follow my words with a slight wink. "I do have my limits around such a beautiful woman. It may be hard to rein myself in."
He laughs and walks away saying, "Good luck with that." I chuckle but quit the instant I see Kathryn walking toward us, looking confused. Probably rightly wondering what transpired between Maurice and me. And quite frankly, I'm not sure what just happened. Did he warn me or in the end encourage me? I'm totally confused, too.
"Kingsley, what did Maurice say to you?" Her question is spoken in more of a challenge.
"I'm sure you can guess. He has fatherly feelings concerning you and issued me a warning as far as you're concerned." My eyes shoot toward the front entrance where Maurice is standing, appraising me still. "I assured him that my intentions with you were noble."
Kathryn huffs at my statement. It’s a so und I don’t like at all. "Maurice is no fool. I'm sure he found your comment amusing to say the least."
"He definitely isn't a fool, but he made it clear that I would be one if I treated you badly."
"So, what's it like to have such a stellar reputation?" She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms defiantly over her chest. "Is it hard having men afraid to have you around the women in their life, those they respect?"
I chuckle under my breath, "Okay , you've made your point with me." Raising my hands in the air, I surrender to her ribbing of me. Truthfully, I have no defense to speak of, and I need to also do something rare for me and apologize.
"And I’m sorry about the comment I made before Maurice brought us the wine."
She speculatively squints one eye and purses her lips. Not the response I was hoping for with my apology. “Hmmm. I’m curious. How many times have you apologized for your behavior on a date?”
Shit, her question pins me to the wall, and I don’t see a way of escape. So I’ll aim for honesty, hoping she’ll give me a break.
“Zero, you’re the first, Kathryn.” A satisfied smile graces her face as she nods her head at me. “Please, can we change the subject?”
"All right. Tell me a little bit about where you grew up."
I flinch at her question, and I'm pretty sure she detects it with her keen psychologist's eye. I never discuss my hometown or upbringing with anyone. Only the guys who came with me from MIT to New York know a little bit about my past. But I wasn’t one to bring up the specifics about her or my childhood. Thankfully, they never pushed for them, either.
“I prefer to leave my past where it belongs. In my past." My mouth suddenly feels dry as my mind remembers the sound of the first handful of dirt hitting the top of Flora’s casket deep within the damp walls of her grave. Something in my gut twists and pulls. These dark memories bring back the pain of that day.
Kathryn’s eyebrows rise as she likely perceives my distress. But she appears to be more curious than concerned. And I know she'll continue to prod and poke around at my open sores. My mother’s death by her own hand; it’s something I still can’t speak about openly. Tom doesn’t know the specifics about her death but saw how much it troubled me. He urged me to talk to a therapist about it years ago, but he dropped the subject after I scoffed at his recommendations.
"I'm disappointed you don't want to talk about your childhood, but not really that surprised." She sips her wine, her
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