Iris in Bloom: Take a Chance, Book 2 by Nancy Warren Page B

candidates in a favorites file.
    Harvard didn’t make the cut. The better looking guy with perfect eyes and a lower IQ did.
    “You know what’s weird?”
    “What?”
    “I’m learning things about myself from the way I choose a potential donor.”
    Marguerite nodded. “Yeah, like you prize looks over smarts. But not completely. You want a good looking kid with a chance at a normal childhood.”
    “Am I a very shallow woman?”
    “At least you’re not trying to create a freak with a gigantic IQ. And thank God you’re not going for a Dunst doppelganger, a jolie Jolie,” she said in her perfect French accent, “A pebble off the Rock, a—”
    Luckily she was spared any more of Marguerite’s hilarity when her cell phone rang. Call display told her it was Geoff McLeod calling. Looks and brains, she thought as she picked up.
    “Hi, Iris, it’s Geoff.”
    “I know, I have call display.”
    “And still you picked up. My day’s improving.” Maybe it was that slightly sleepy tone he always had, as though he was just getting out of bed, or thinking of getting into it. His voice was one of the most attractive things about him.
    “I didn’t mean to offend you this morning.”
    “You blew me off on a date I’ve been looking forward to all week.”
    She immediately felt guilty. She knew from the self-help books that littered her bookshelf the way tantric sex books littered Geoff’s, that the guilt response was part of her people pleasing issues. She needed to be honest and not back down. “I don’t think you’re ready.”
    She could hear the low rumble of the TV in the background. “We got interrupted so fast you didn’t even give me the ‘let’s be friends’ speech.” There was a teasing note but also the honest message of a man who needs a friend.
    Did she want to be his friend? His volunteer therapist and the person who made him feel better about his break-up?
    She sort of thought she did.
    “Of course we can be friends.”
    “Great. Friends do dinner, right?”
    She couldn’t help but laugh. “You asked me on a date.”
    “And now I’m amending the invitation to friends.”
    “If we go as friends, we split the bill.”
    He sighed. “You’re going to be a pain in the ass friend, aren’t you?”
    “Probably.”
    “So? Can we still go out Thursday?”
    She debated with herself then went with the truth. Even though Marguerite was eavesdropping on every word without even pretending she wasn’t. “My problem is I find you attractive. If we go for dinner then I might forget we’re only friends.”
    “Okay.” He forestalled her before she could turn him down for dinner yet again. “How about this. Friends help each other, right?”
    “Sure. Of course.”
    “I bought some furniture from a big box Swedish place. I need help putting it together.”
    “You’re asking me to build furniture?”
    “No. I’m asking you to have dinner with me, but if you don’t want dinner, then I’m offering you an alternative, a mentally and physically stimulating evening of building furniture. And, as an enticement, there will be dinner.”
    “More pizza?”
    “I heard the Thai place is good. I could get take-out.”
    When she got off the phone, Marguerite widened her eyes. Since she’d already explained to her sister why she’d blown him off for Thursday, she had to explain the new relationship.
    “So, you’re going to spend Thursday evening with the professor anyway?”
    “As a friend. Besides, he’s getting Thai. You know how much I love Thai food.”

Chapter Eight
     
    So what did you wear to a date that had turned into a friends-only non-date? A furniture building non-date? After work Iris was overcome with a sudden compulsion to hit the gym. An hour of treadmill, weights and stretching reminded her that she needed to do this a whole lot more often.
    She came home, showered and decided eventually on jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Casual. Then she spent longer than usual on her makeup and wore