Good Karma (11 page)

“My friend Daniel took me.”

“Boyfriend?” He hoped not.

She grinned. “Daniel’s married.”

Mark breathed a sigh of relief.

“To another man,” she added a moment
later.

“Oh. I see.”

Karma giggled.

He chuckled, feeling a little foolish. “I
guess I asked for that.”

The server returned, filled their water
glasses, and took their orders.

“So, how did you and Daniel meet?” he asked,
then sipped his water.

“I’ve known Daniel since college.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Purdue.”

“You went to Purdue?” This was an interesting
twist. He wouldn’t have imagined that a Purdue graduate would
become an executive assistant. But with the job market the way it
was, he had seen stranger things. He had an acquaintance who held a
master’s degree and now worked as a greeter at Walmart. Times were
tough, and people had to do what they had to do to get by. “What
did you study?”

“I thought I was going to be a civil engineer
my freshman year, but changed my major to mass communication with
an emphasis on journalism after the first semester.”

“That’s quite a shift, isn’t it?”

“My dad wanted me to become an engineer more
than I did. I had the aptitude and the grades for it, but not the
passion.”

There was something to be said for passion in
one’s job. Without it, work became toxic drudgery. With it, work
became the nectar of life.

“And you have a passion to write?”

Her whole face lit up. “Yes.”

“Then why aren’t you doing that instead of
working for Solar?” Clearly, her heart lay with the written word,
not administration.

Defeat replaced joy and her shoulders sagged
just enough for him to notice. “I had a job lined up at the local
paper after I graduated, but they withdrew their offer. The economy
couldn’t support the employees they already had, so they couldn’t
add one more. In fact, they laid off a few.” She lifted her hands,
palms up, and then dropped them to the table. “After that, I
couldn’t find work in my field. I needed a job, and Dad knew Don.
His assistant had just resigned, so he agreed to interview me. We
hit it off right away.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Two years,” she said.

“And that makes you, what? Twenty-four?
Twenty-five?”

“Twenty-four.” Her cheeks flushed as she bit
her bottom lip and offered him a suppressed smile.

“Young and hungry. Willing to do whatever it
takes. I was like that at twenty-four.” That had been before hell
had descended on his life.

“How old are you now?” From the confusion in
her expression, she looked as though she didn’t think he was much
older than she was.

“Thirty.”

“Oh.” She looked surprised.

“How old did you think I was?” This should be
good.

She fiddled with her cloth napkin. “I don’t
know. Maybe twenty-seven.”

Silence descended between them again, and
Karma nibbled her lip as she glanced away. Her bashfulness was
adorable. For several seconds, he said nothing, content just to
admire the way her cheeks remained flushed, as well as her nervous
habit of tapping her pretty fingernails on the tablecloth.

“So,” he finally said, leading her back into
conversation, “you found your way to Solar and became Don’s
assistant.”

“Yes. It’s not what I went to school for, but
I like it, and I’m good at what I do.”

There was a subtle note of reticence in her
tone.

“But…?”

“But what?”

“But you don’t see yourself doing it forever,
do you?”

Her expression told him he’d hit the nail on
the head. “I know there’s something else out there for me. I just
don’t know what it is or when I’ll find it.”

“You’ll figure it out when the time is right.
Everything in its own time.” He paused. “But, you know, you don’t
have to be a journalist or a reporter to write. You just need a pen
and a piece of paper, or perhaps a blog. It could be a private blog
only you see, or you can write under a pseudonym. There are plenty
of options for you to express your passion.”

She appeared to contemplate that for a
moment, a glimmer of inspiration in her eyes.

When she didn’t reply, he pushed their
conversation back toward how she had found her way to Chicago. “So,
you met Daniel at college.”

“Yes.” She perked up with the change in
subject. “We took a creative writing class together freshman year.
Hit it off immediately, much to my parents’ dismay. Don’t get me
wrong, my parents are good people, but they’re just really
conservative, especially my dad. Homosexuality isn’t exactly a
popular subject with them, so they were a little surprised when I
told them about Daniel.” She seemed to be on a roll now, talking
animatedly. “But I liked him, and Mom and Dad accept him now,
because they see how good we are together. He’s the brother—or
rather the sister…” She hesitated, giggled, and then said as an
afterthought, “He says he’s my sister.” She laughed again. “Anyway,
he’s like the sister I never had wrapped inside the package of a
best friend. But he’s from Chicago, and his sister is a dancer. As
a matter of fact, she danced the exhibition Saturday night.”

“Sonya?” The world they lived in grew smaller
as the six degrees of separation between them narrowed.

“Yes.” She sipped her water. “I should have
told you when you said you knew her, but…”

“But…?” He prompted her to continue.

“I didn’t want to.” She forced a thin,
sheepish smile. One that conveyed secrets and a touch of guilty
indulgence.

“Why not?”

“Because…” She sighed and looked down. “I was
enjoying myself too much.”

It wasn’t much of an answer, and Mark got the
impression she wasn’t giving him the whole truth. And the only
reason she wouldn’t want to reveal the truth was because doing so
would reveal more about her than she wanted him to see. A
vulnerability perhaps? Or maybe she wanted to deny her true
feelings because they frightened her, and now she was hiding from
them.

Hiding was a terrific way to keep from facing
fears. He should know. He was still hiding from his. It takes one
to know one. Wasn’t that how the saying went? Well, Mark could
definitely see himself in Karma, even if he didn’t want to
acknowledge his own faults.

“Anyway,” Karma said, “Daniel’s husband got
sick and couldn’t attend, so he begged me to go instead. That’s how
I ended up at the benefit.”

“Fortunately for me, you did.” He leaned
toward her. “That dress you wore was stunning.” He briefly took in
her magenta blouse. She had rebuttoned one of the buttons, much to
his dismay. Still, it was an improvement over the boxy, mannish
suits she had worn the rest of the week. Her work attire was such a
vast contrast from Saturday night’s striking dress.

Karma blushed and glanced away. “Daniel
bought it for me. His family’s rich, and he insisted on buying it.
He said it was his way of saying thanks.”

“That’s some thanks. It definitely caught
my
eye.” And everyone else’s at the event. The question now
was, how had she gone from wearing a dress like that to frumpy
suits? He didn’t think he would be able to end the evening until he
had an answer, or at least a more definitive theory.

Their shrimp cocktail arrived, and they took
a short break from talking to eat.

After eating half his shrimp, he dabbed his
fingers on his cloth napkin and took a sip of water. “I’m curious
about one thing, though. Why the ruse about being a model? I was
only joking when I guessed that as your profession, but then you
played along.” This one small infraction had intrigued him more
than anything else.

Color touched her cheeks, and she shrugged as
she glanced toward the bar. “I don’t know.”

“You had to have a reason. What was it? I
haven’t been able to figure it out.” But he had a few educated
guesses.

Karma swirled one of her shrimp in her sauce,
eyes downcast. After a long moment passed, she finally said, “It’s
not very glamorous.” She met his gaze. “Being an executive
assistant.”

He fished the last shrimp from his glass.
“Why is that important?”

Another shrug. “It just didn’t seem…I don’t
know…impressive enough.”

He wiped his fingers on his napkin. “For
every day, or just for Saturday night?”

She nodded at the latter. “Mostly Saturday.”
She sighed and got a faraway look in her eyes. “That place, that
hotel…it was so fancy, and I’m so…”

“So what?”

“So ordinary.”

He fought back a laugh. “I can assure you, in
that dress, in those shoes, looking the way you did…you were
definitely not ordinary.”

“Well, that was all just the façade.”

“And what a lovely façade it was.”

She shook her head. “Maybe I looked like I
fit in on the outside, but inside, I felt…” She looked lost for
words.

“Plain?”

Her gaze fell to the table. “Yes.”

“And you wanted to be
not plain
, is
that it?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“And who were you trying to impress with your
make-believe alter ego?”

She met his gaze for an instant before
looking away again, and the color in her cheeks deepened. For
several seconds, she didn’t say anything. Then, “You, I guess.” She
looked at him, and modesty pulled at her tender features.

He pushed his empty cocktail glass aside then
reached across the table and tucked a strand of loose hair behind
her ear.

“I’m flattered.” He crossed his forearms on
the table. “But you didn’t need to try to impress me. I was already
impressed, whether you tried or not. And to be honest, I was more
concerned about impressing
you
.” He chuffed as he recalled
how poorly he had treated her. “Something which I failed miserably
at, by the way.”

“No you didn’t.” She spoke up quickly. Almost
too quickly. “You didn’t fail. I was impressed.” Her kind smile and
the way her eyes sparkled warmed his heart.

“But I scared you.”

“No.” She shook her head.

He was confused. “I must have. You left my
room so suddenly. And I’ll be the first to admit you had every
right to. I was way out of line.”

“That was me, not you.” She closed her eyes
and lowered her face into her hand. “I feel like such an idiot. I
just…yes, I got scared, but…” She blew out a nervous breath. “Trust
me, it wasn’t you. That was all me, okay? Not you.”

He didn’t understand, but she clearly wanted
to assure him her quick departure hadn’t been his fault. Whatever
had made her flee his hotel room had been her doing, not his, and
now he was even more curious. The more time he spent with Karma,
the more she puzzled him. And Mark liked puzzles. Especially ones
that came in a pretty little package with pretty green eyes and a
heart-shaped mouth.

She seemed like a woman on the cusp of
letting go but didn’t know how. She was innocent yet audacious.
Sweet yet bold. A woman unaware of her allure, but who wanted to
learn.

He could show her how to let go. He could
teach her to embrace her charms. He wanted to. This was what he had
spent the last six years mastering, this art of love and
seduction.

He leaned forward, closing the short distance
created by the small, white-clothed table. “You’re not used to men
kissing you the way I did, are you?”

She blushed. It was adorable and endearing
the way she kept doing that. She dropped her gaze to her hands
again and didn’t say anything.

“Is that it?” He didn’t need an answer. Her
silence and the way she refused to meet his eyes already told him
he was right.

“Yes,” she said quietly. So quietly he almost
couldn’t hear her over the crowd near the bar.

A few more pieces in Karma’s puzzle fell into
place.

Chapter 12

Don’t let
your fear of what could happen make nothing happen.

-Doe Zantamata

After dinner, Mark suggested they enjoy the city and
take a walk, and since Karma didn’t have anything waiting at home
but the couch, a pair of sweats, and a Friday night movie, she
figured why not? So, they ventured out and eventually found their
way to the Circle Center Mall.

As they passed the entrance to Carson Pirie
Scott, a pretty blouse caught her eye, and she stopped to take a
closer look. Until last weekend, she hadn’t realized how long it
had been since she’d gotten a real haircut or shopped just for fun.
Focused on school and work for the past several years, shopping and
tending to her appearance had fallen way down on her list of
priorities. Even two years out of college, she still lived
according to comfort instead of style. Not that she had ever been
much of a fashionista, but at one time, she had actually been
interested in makeup, trying to style her unruly hair, and buying
cute outfits once in a while. But then came college. While
attending Purdue, she had gotten used to pulling her hair back,
yanking on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, and darting to class
without even a glance in the mirror. The habit had stuck. Maybe it
was time she broke it.

“This would look good on you,” he said,
lifting the sleeveless tie-neck top off the rack. The fabric
shimmered, an abstract print in shades of coral, tan, cream, and
black.

“I like it.” She ran her fingers over the
material, which felt cool and slick.

There was nothing like it in her wardrobe, so
colorful and youthful, yet elegant. Had she really let herself go
this badly? Had she ratcheted herself so far down on her list of
priorities that complacency had locked her wardrobe—and herself—
into a dull, outdated palette?

Mark held the blouse toward her and leaned
back, head tilted, as if imagining what it would look like on her.
“Would you wear something like this, I wonder?”