“Without a doubt.”
“And make sure to order them from Michael’s Florist. He’s really quite an artist when it comes to arrangements. Call him first thing in the morning and mention my name. He’ll know what to do.”
Evan smirked, clearly enjoying this and probably suspecting that Colin would be no different than he was when it came to Lily and her requests. And because Evan knew him better than anyone, Colin finally nodded.
“Okay.”
In the morning, Colin rose early and was pleased to find that the old Camaro started on the first turn of the key. He put in a hard workout at the gym – plyometrics and barbell work, jumping rope, and long intervals on both the heavy and speed bags. On the way back to his apartment he stopped by a Dumpster and cleared the clutter from his car. At home, with his muscles still warm and loose, he popped in one of Lily’s CDs and spent half an hour practicing his salsa steps, amazed that he hadn’t forgotten anything. He was surprised again at how much concentration it required.
He downed a protein smoothie and showered, then dressed in dark slacks, loafers, and a button-down shirt, leftovers from his courtroom days. He’d put on serious muscle since then and the shirt was too tight in the chest and arms, but it was the best he could do. Standing in front of the mirror, he thought to himself that, aside from the top being a bit snug, Evan might as well have dressed him. The outfit was ridiculous, especially since he’d be on a campus where shorts and flip-flops were the norm. Though he knew that Lily wouldn’t have approved, he rolled the cuffs, exposing a bit of his forearms. Better. More comfortable, too.
His classmates either didn’t notice or didn’t care about his dress, and he listened and took notes as always. No Serena afterward, as they only had classes together on Mondays and Wednesdays. With a few extra minutes, he called the florist and ordered an autumn bouquet, whatever the hell that was. From there he trudged off to a classroom-management class, aware that he hadn’t stopped moving since the alarm had gone off, his regular routine in tatters.
His final class of the day ended at a quarter to noon. By then, the sun was high, and with Indian summer hanging on, he walked slowly to his car, trying not to sweat. He stopped at the florist on the way to the address Maria had given him, and as if fate was toying with him, it took two turns of the key and a bit of pedal pumping to get the engine going. All he could do was keep his fingers crossed.
Martenson, Hertzberg & Holdman occupied its own building, a relatively modern structure a couple of blocks from the Cape Fear River and smack-dab in the middle of the historic district, with parking on both sides of the building. On either side and across the street, the buildings ran together, one shade of brick giving way to another, storefronts dotted with awnings. He pulled into a spot only a few slots away from Maria’s car, and next to a shiny red Corvette.
He grabbed the vase of flowers – remembering Lily and her phrase certain expectations – and then thought about Ken and the problems he was causing. He wondered if the guy would be around; he wanted to put a face to a name. As he locked his car, he suddenly saw the entire morning as a countdown to the time when he could finally see Maria again.
Surprising no one more than himself, he realized that he’d missed her.
CHAPTER 10
Maria