“I can. We desperately need it, and I’m truly grateful. I told Helena that if you made another donation I wouldn’t get upset if I didn’t get the chance to thank you. But since I have, I want to tell you how much this means to me and especially to the people who count on this food pantry.”
“You’re welcome. Glad I could help.” Lazily, he looked her up and down. “You look good in jeans, but I like the short skirt better. I’ll see you around, Katie.”
She stood there openmouthed as Ian laughed and made his way down the street, and she watched him until he turned the corner and disappeared.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kate was taking a break and having coffee and a muffin at Wilde Roast Café when Ian slid into the booth and sat across from her. He was wearing a lightweight cream-colored sweater with a tan-and-green-patterned shirt underneath, and he smelled good.
“Hello again.”
Confused, Kate looked around. “Where did you come from?”
“I walked in the door like everyone else.”
“Do you live nearby?” Kate lived in the St. Anthony Main neighborhood of Northeast Minneapolis. The food pantry was conveniently located on SE Main Street, which was a short three-block walk from her apartment. The quiet brick-paved street was lined with restaurants, shops, and a movie theater and included a stunning view of the Mississippi River and St. Anthony Falls. There were also bars that featured live music and plenty of green space in nearby parks.
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I felt like talking to you again. You’re seated, so you probably won’t try to strangle me this time.”
“How did you know where to find me?” She was tucked away in a back booth instead of one of the tables near the windows that looked out over SE Main, so it wasn’t like he’d walked by and spotted her.
He held a steaming cup of coffee and blew on it to cool it. “I tracked your credit card activity. According to Capital One, you bought a cup of coffee and a muffin here twelve minutes ago.”
“You tracked my credit card?” Her voice sounded rather loud and shrieky.
He held a finger in front of his mouth. “Shh, Katie Long Legs. That information is for your ears only. How’s your coffee? Would you like a refill?”
Kate did not appreciate being shushed, but she lowered her voice. “Are you some kind of cyberthief?” she whispered. And since when were criminals so well-dressed and impeccably groomed?
“I did not steal your credit card number. I simply accessed your account to see where and when you’d used it last. Then I came here.”
“If you wanted to talk to me again, why didn’t you just go to the food pantry?”
He looked at her like it was obvious. “Because you’re not there. You’re here at this café.”
“If you’re not a cyberthief, then what are you?”
“I’m a hacker.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Most definitely.”
“When you said you steal from the rich to give to the poor, I thought you were kidding. Is that how you get the money?”
“I don’t steal it. I appropriate it from people who shouldn’t have it in the first place. Then I give it to those who are more deserving.”
Kate twisted her napkin. “I can’t keep the money. I’ve already spent the first two donations, but if you come back to the food pantry with me, I can return the most recent one. It’s still locked in the safe because I wasn’t planning on going shopping until tomorrow.”
“No, Katie. I don’t want it back. It’s for you. It’s for the babies.”
“It’s wrong,” she said quietly.
“Is it?”
“It’s against the law.”
“Trust me when I say the people I took it from don’t want the law involved any more than I do.”
“What are you saying? That you’re a thief who steals from other thieves?”
He wrinkled his nose, and it was adorable.
Stop! Thief!
“It sounds so distasteful when you say it like that. I prefer master appropriator of ill-gotten funds. You can call me master for short.”
“I have lots of things I’d like to call you. Master is not one of them.”
“That’s okay, Katie Brown Eyes, as long as the other names are favorable.”
“Stop that! We are not on a nickname basis.”
“After seeing how riled up you’re getting? Not a chance.”
“Am I supposed to accept that this is okay because you’re stealing money that has already been stolen once? Instead of giving it to charitable organizations, why not give it back to the people it was stolen from in the first place?”
“I only wish I could, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“I’m pretty sharp. I can probably keep up.”
“I’ve no doubt that you could.”
“But you’re not going to tell me.”
“Not right now.”
Kate let out a frustrated sigh.
“I assure you that you can spend the money with a clear conscience,” Ian said.
“You can’t assure me, because now I know it once belonged to someone else. And there lies my ethical dilemma.”
“You’ll have to take my word for it then.”
His word? Was he crazy? “I’m just trying to help people, Ian. I don’t like the position you’ve put me in.”
“Please don’t be upset with me. I really do want you to keep the money. For the babies.”
Kate picked up her muffin, but she’d lost her appetite so she put it back down and brushed the crumbs from her hands. “You said you felt like talking to me again. Why? What do you want?”
“I thought maybe we could be friends.”
“A few days ago you hadn’t decided whether you even wanted to introduce yourself.”
“Clearly I’ve made my decision.”
“Why would you want to be friends? You hardly know me.”
“You’d be amazed at what I know about you, Katie.”
Oh, yes. The credit card. She’d have to cancel that immediately. And she’d choose a new, stronger online password that Ian would not be able to crack.
“I appreciate the donations very much, and I will spend the last one because my clients desperately need it, but I don’t want any more of your money. And I really don’t see us becoming friends.”
Kate had been harboring some fairly romantic fantasies about running into Ian again, but in not one of those fantasies had she ever cast him as anything other than the hero, and certainly never the villain. He had ruined everything.
“I’ll win you over eventually. I’m very charming that way.” As he got up and walked away, he turned and said over his shoulder, “Until next time, Katie.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Kate arrived at Vic’s fifteen minutes before her one-o’clock lunch date. After regretfully admitting to herself that there was nothing to pursue with Ian—on account of the fact he was apparently some kind of felon—she’d moped around for a week and then scrolled through the inbox of her online dating account. After deleting multiple stomach-turning requests for casual sex and naked pictures, she sifted through what was left to see if anyone interesting had messaged her. So far she hadn’t had the best luck with online dating, but Kent, the man she was meeting this afternoon, sounded promising. He was thirty-six, handsome, and worked as a stockbroker for Morgan Stanley. He loved cooking, animals, and long hikes in the woods. They’d been exchanging e-mails for several days, and the last couple contained mildly flirtatious comments from Kent about how attractive she was and how much he was looking forward to meeting her in person. He seemed nice enough even if he did want to spend what Kate felt was a bit too much time discussing her physical description, especially her body type. She was one of those enviable women who was long legged and slim hipped but still in possession of full breasts. And they were real. Even so, she worked hard to stay in shape. She a
ttended a Pilates class several times a week, and she walked everywhere. For her profile photo, she’d had Helena take a full-length picture of her standing next to the sign for the food pantry. She was wearing jeans and a sweater, and her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Kate wasn’t interested in false advertising, and she wanted the men who looked at her profile to know exactly the type of woman they’d be meeting. Apparently it wasn’t enough, because Kent had sent not one but two messages yesterday asking for additional clarification.
Do you count calories or follow a specific diet plan? he’d asked. What the hell was that all about? Frankly, she sometimes ate like a truck driver because she was hungry, dammit. And hunger was a bit of a hot button for Kate, considering she spent her days making sure people got enough to eat. That message was followed up with What kind of clothing would you say highlights your best features? What did that even mean, and why did he care what kind of clothes she wore?
Ian likes short skirts, and that didn’t seem to bother you.
Ian just liked to push her buttons. And besides, Ian was no longer in the picture.
Kate glanced at her watch discreetly. Kent was now five minutes late. Just then her phone vibrated to signal an incoming e-mail. Kent was probably reaching out to let her know he was running behind. Very thoughtful.
She opened her e-mail and smiled. The message was from Kent.
I changed my mind. I’m not interested.
What?
In addition to confusing, Kate found the message rude and unacceptable and fired off a reply.
You’re a tool.
His response came ten seconds later.
You’re just bitter because you’re fat.
Kate stared down at her phone as if it somehow held an explanation for the bizarre exchange. She was so deep in thought that the scrape of a chair being pulled back startled her.
“It would never have worked out,” Ian said, sitting down across from her. “You were already fighting over e-mail.”
“We were not fighting. We were having a discussion. And how would you know?”
“Loves cooking, animals, and long hikes in the woods? Please. Do you want to know what Kent really loves? Threesomes. Kent loves threesomes. Also hard-core porn and occasionally cocaine. Is this the dating pool you want to swim around in? I mean really, Katie.”
“Oh my God. You did not.”
“I’m going to order us a drink. A bourbon sounds excellent on this crisp fall afternoon.” Ian signaled for the waiter. “Against my better judgment, I’ll order you a glass of wine. According to your credit card statement, you had a staggering amount of chardonnay delivered to your apartment last month. I think you might want to take one of those ‘Could I Be an Alcoholic’ quizzes the next time you come across one, just to see what it says.”
Kate logged on to her online dating account. Her profile picture had undergone a significant change because she now had two chins and giant puffy cheeks. Even her eyelids looked bloated.
“You FatBoothed me?”
“He seemed awfully concerned with your figure. That just goes to show what kind of man he is. Already micromanaging your wardrobe and diet before he’s even met you. If he had just been patient, he would have seen you in person and realized he had nothing to worry about. It’s his loss.”
Kate peered closer. “What is that above my lip?”
“It’s a mustache. You dark-haired girls have to be so careful about that kind of thing.” Ian gave their drink order to the waiter.
Kate didn’t speak. Her brain was trying to process how everything had gone so wrong in such a short amount of time.
“Katie? Are you okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you, with one being you still like me and ten being you’d like to castrate me with a pair of rusty scissors?”
“When did I ever say I liked you?”
“It was subtly implied.”
“All I’m trying to do is find a nice guy to spend time with,” Kate said, stunned. “It should not be this hard.”
The waiter brought their drinks. Kate picked up her wineglass and took a rather large gulp. She started to set it down, changed her mind, and took another drink.
“Can I be honest with you?” Ian asked.
“I don’t know, can you?” Kate leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table while she massaged her temples.
“You’re quite beautiful, so I don’t understand why you’d waste your time with online dating.”
Kate should not have cared that Ian said she was beautiful, but she did.
“I use dating sites because I don’t want to go to bars and my girlfriends all work sixteen hours a day. Helena claims her clubbing days are over, so that doesn’t leave me with much. If I meet someone online, at least I have the opportunity to vet them first.”
Ian snorted. “These men all want one thing, and they’ll lie to get it. Using a dating site to vet them is going to get you roofied. It’s really not safe, Katie.”
“That’s why I only meet them in public places. I don’t let them take me home, and I don’t invite them in until I’ve gotten to know them. And I’m not lying. Everything on my profile is true.”
“Congratulations. You’re the only one telling the truth.”
“Well, how do you usually meet women?”
“They have a way of suddenly appearing. Like the birds in that song.”
She had to think about that for a minute. “You mean ‘Close to You’ by the Carpenters?”
Ian snapped his fingers. “That’s the one.”
“How convenient for you.”
He smiled. “Isn’t it?”
“Are you dating one of these women now?”
He sipped his bourbon. “I’m currently between lovers.”
Kate took another big drink. Her glass was more than half-empty, so Ian signaled the waiter for another.
“I feel conflicted,” he said. “It’s like I’m just contributing to your drinking problem now.”
“I do not have a drinking problem! There was a buy one bottle, get one half off sale, so I stocked up.”
“Denial. That’s a shame. Let’s go back to your dating woes.”
“I don’t have woes. I’m just having difficulty getting back out there.” Kate could only admit this to herself, but the thought of jumping back into the dating pool had extended her relationship with Stuart by at least six months.
“Maybe there’s something wrong with you.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“There could be. Tell me about your most recent lover.”
“Stuart was more than my lover. We broke up six months ago after dating for five years.”
“Why, did you sleep with someone else?”
“What? No.”
“Did he?”
“Nobody slept with anyone else! We grew apart and weren’t the same people at the end of five years that we were when we started dating.”
“Was Stuart a nice guy?”
“He was a great guy. He’s still a great guy.”
“If he was that great, you’d still be with him.”
“I loved Stuart for a long time.”
“But?”
“When it comes to men, you either break up with them or you marry them.”
“Stuart asked you to marry him?”
“Yes. And I said no.” And she’d unintentionally stomped all over his heart in the process.
“Why?” Ian asked.
The wine had already loosened her up a little, and she answered honestly. “Because after five years there was nothing about him that surprised me.” Stuart was like a puzzle with a limited number of pieces; all he really needed to be happy was Kate, his PlayStation, beer, a hot meal, and sex. Kate needed more.
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. So you want a nice guy, but you don’t want him to be boring.”
“Yes. Nice and not boring and not into threesomes and no coca
ine. I mean, is that too much to ask?”
“No, although I feel compelled to point out that the threesome thing is pretty universal.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” she muttered.
“That doesn’t mean we’re all going to try to convince you to participate in one. It’s just that very few guys would be like, ‘Go away, extra girl,’ should one happen to climb into our bed when you’re already in it. That’s all I’m saying.”
Kate had finished her first glass of wine, and the waiter arrived with her second. Ian handed it to her and held up his bourbon. “Cheers to weeding out the assholes, Katie.”
Kate clinked her glass with his and said, “Cheers.”
An hour later, after sharing an order of crab cakes and beer-battered fish and chips, which Ian insisted on because “that dick Kent would probably have made you order a salad,” Kate leaned back in her chair and sighed.
“Feeling better?”
“More relaxed anyway,” she said. “Probably because I’m stuffed full of fried food and this is my third glass of wine.”
“In case you were wondering, I’m having a great time.”
“Let me guess. This is all part of your ‘let’s be friends’ campaign.”
“That depends. Is it working?”
Kate tried to suppress a smile.
“I saw that, Katie. I told you, I miss nothing.”
After they finished their drinks, Ian insisted on paying the tab. “I’ll walk you home,” he said. Dried leaves crunched under their feet, and Kate breathed in the smell of wood smoke coming from a nearby chimney.
“This is my street,” she said a few blocks later. “I’m in the tall brick building.”
“I know.”
“How do you know where I live?” Kate asked.
He looked at her incredulously. “You can’t be serious.” He followed her up the short sidewalk to the front steps, and she sat down when they reached the top.
“You’re not going to invite me in?”
“You can’t be serious,” she said, throwing his words back at him. The chill of the cold concrete seeped through her jeans almost immediately.
Ian sat down beside her. “Wow, these steps are really hard and cold.”