you for charity. They certainly wouldn't imagine we have a personal relationship."
With a sigh, Winthrop finally abandoned his computers. He swiveled in his chair to face her. "Why is it that the more I want to get out of this situation, the deeper I fall in?"
"Must be your giving nature."
"Wasn't aware I had one of those."
"Then maybe you're just no match for me," Roseanne opined.
"Now that sounds more like it."
"Don't be too hard on yourself." She grinned. "I've vanquished many a tougher specimen than you."
Winthrop's gaze fell to the side. "I'm sure you have," he mumbled.
"I can see you're busy." Roseanne got back to the subject at hand. "But I'll keep this down to one hour, I promise. Anyway, you could probably use the break. What time did you get into the office this morning? Seven-thirty?"
"Seven." Winthrop took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "We have a deadline tomorrow and some last minute technical problems came up."
"So," Roseanne figured, "you don't usually get into the office until...?"
"Seven." Winthrop smiled his swift smile at her. "Maybe you're right. I could use a break, and since you're buying..."
"Now, I like a man with a proper sense of perspective." "Don't knock it." Winthrop rose from his seat.
"Who's knocking? A girl always knows where she stands with you, Carruthers. As long as she's on the right side of your stomach and your pocket book."
"My stomach and my pocket book both happen to be very important to me." He put his hand against her back to lead her out the door.
Roseanne shivered at his touch—she couldn't have said why. There was just something...strong, and almost...secure about it.
Perhaps the impression came from the fact he was actually taller than her? Yes, that must have been why.
Smiling brightly, Roseanne turned, moving naturally away from Winthrop's hand. Even with an explanation for its effect on her, his touch made her uneasy. "Do you know a good lunch spot nearby?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Winthrop wasn't even looking at her. He appeared to be focused on something about a million miles away. Yep, Roseanne had a strong suspicion he was still in the world behind his computer screens.
She didn't have to worry he might have noticed her odd reaction to his hand on her back. He was gone.
Her make-believe smile turned amused.
~~~
The Chinese restaurant was dimly lit and smelled heavenly, redolent of garlic and sesame oil. The faded red wallpaper and hanging paper lanterns probably dated from two decades earlier and the waiters had faces as wrinkled as the upholstery in the booths. But Roseanne had a happy sense that the food would be excellent.
It wasn't as public a place as she'd have liked in order to display Winthrop's newly affianced state, but she felt she'd made headway simply getting him to do anything with her.
The host at the door seemed to recognize Winthrop and immediately began chattering at him in Chinese. Winthrop nodded and answered him in English.
"Yes, a special friend," he said. Even in the dim light, Roseanne could see he was blushing. "Any booth will be fine. Yes, tea, thank you."
"You understand Chinese?" Roseanne asked him as they seated themselves in one of the spacious booths.
"A little bit. Can't speak it though. Too hard to get my mouth around the words."
"What other languages do you know?"
He gave her a peculiar look. "What do you care?"
The question was so suddenly cold that Roseanne felt thrown. "Why, I need to know more about you," she explained. "If I haven't the foggiest idea of your past history, people are going to wonder, aren't they?"
He regarded her for another icy moment. "I know French, Spanish, a little Italian, less German, and kitchen Mandarin. Oh, and Latin."
"Really!" Roseanne was impressed. "That's fascinating. I've heard that people with an aptitude for mathematics are also good at languages."
"I didn't say I was good at any of them," Winthrop contradicted curtly.
"But you are good at mathematics." Roseanne
With a sigh, Winthrop finally abandoned his computers. He swiveled in his chair to face her. "Why is it that the more I want to get out of this situation, the deeper I fall in?"
"Must be your giving nature."
"Wasn't aware I had one of those."
"Then maybe you're just no match for me," Roseanne opined.
"Now that sounds more like it."
"Don't be too hard on yourself." She grinned. "I've vanquished many a tougher specimen than you."
Winthrop's gaze fell to the side. "I'm sure you have," he mumbled.
"I can see you're busy." Roseanne got back to the subject at hand. "But I'll keep this down to one hour, I promise. Anyway, you could probably use the break. What time did you get into the office this morning? Seven-thirty?"
"Seven." Winthrop took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "We have a deadline tomorrow and some last minute technical problems came up."
"So," Roseanne figured, "you don't usually get into the office until...?"
"Seven." Winthrop smiled his swift smile at her. "Maybe you're right. I could use a break, and since you're buying..."
"Now, I like a man with a proper sense of perspective." "Don't knock it." Winthrop rose from his seat.
"Who's knocking? A girl always knows where she stands with you, Carruthers. As long as she's on the right side of your stomach and your pocket book."
"My stomach and my pocket book both happen to be very important to me." He put his hand against her back to lead her out the door.
Roseanne shivered at his touch—she couldn't have said why. There was just something...strong, and almost...secure about it.
Perhaps the impression came from the fact he was actually taller than her? Yes, that must have been why.
Smiling brightly, Roseanne turned, moving naturally away from Winthrop's hand. Even with an explanation for its effect on her, his touch made her uneasy. "Do you know a good lunch spot nearby?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Winthrop wasn't even looking at her. He appeared to be focused on something about a million miles away. Yep, Roseanne had a strong suspicion he was still in the world behind his computer screens.
She didn't have to worry he might have noticed her odd reaction to his hand on her back. He was gone.
Her make-believe smile turned amused.
~~~
The Chinese restaurant was dimly lit and smelled heavenly, redolent of garlic and sesame oil. The faded red wallpaper and hanging paper lanterns probably dated from two decades earlier and the waiters had faces as wrinkled as the upholstery in the booths. But Roseanne had a happy sense that the food would be excellent.
It wasn't as public a place as she'd have liked in order to display Winthrop's newly affianced state, but she felt she'd made headway simply getting him to do anything with her.
The host at the door seemed to recognize Winthrop and immediately began chattering at him in Chinese. Winthrop nodded and answered him in English.
"Yes, a special friend," he said. Even in the dim light, Roseanne could see he was blushing. "Any booth will be fine. Yes, tea, thank you."
"You understand Chinese?" Roseanne asked him as they seated themselves in one of the spacious booths.
"A little bit. Can't speak it though. Too hard to get my mouth around the words."
"What other languages do you know?"
He gave her a peculiar look. "What do you care?"
The question was so suddenly cold that Roseanne felt thrown. "Why, I need to know more about you," she explained. "If I haven't the foggiest idea of your past history, people are going to wonder, aren't they?"
He regarded her for another icy moment. "I know French, Spanish, a little Italian, less German, and kitchen Mandarin. Oh, and Latin."
"Really!" Roseanne was impressed. "That's fascinating. I've heard that people with an aptitude for mathematics are also good at languages."
"I didn't say I was good at any of them," Winthrop contradicted curtly.
"But you are good at mathematics." Roseanne
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