“What, like books?”
No, like nursery rhymes. “Yes. Like books.”
He glanced at her and smiled wryly. “You don’t have to say it like I am one step above a cow on the food chain.”
“I didn’t say it like you were one step above a cow,” she said pertly, although she was aware that she had.
“What kind of books?” he asked.
Kate sat a little straighter in her seat as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Women’s fiction.”
“Women’s fiction,” he repeated carefully. “Would that be fiction about women?”
“It’s fiction about relationships. And love. That sort of thing.”
Joe gave her a dubious look. “You mean romance novels,” he said, as if he’d just figured out a complicated puzzle. “What do they call them? Bodice rippers.” He laughed.
“First of all, they are not only romance, and secondly, that is so ignorant,” Kate said. “It’s a cliché, and you wouldn’t say it if you actually bothered to read one.”
“What makes you think I haven’t read one?”
“Have you?” she demanded.
“No!” he said with a laugh as if that was ridiculous. “I don’t read,” he added. “I mean, tech manuals, yes. But not books.” He laughed again as if the mere suggestion was ludicrous. “Especially not books about relationships. I’d rather watch sports.”
“Do you know how primitive you sound right now?” Kate said.
“Why? Because I would rather watch sports than read about other people having sex?” He winked at her. “See, I don’t need to read about it.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “And what do you do, Mr. Never Cracked a Book?”
“Hey, I take issue with that,” he said with playful bravado. “I’ve cracked a few books in my time. I’m in technology, which—and this may surprise you—actually requires a fairly high level of reading comprehension. I create security systems for banks.”
“Knew it,” Kate said pertly.
“Knew what?”
“That you were probably in something like technology.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked. “Why did you think that?”
He looked so genuinely surprised that Kate couldn’t help but laugh. “Because you’re like an IT guy. You know.”
“No, I do not know,” he said waspishly. “I do not fit the stereotype, and frankly, I don’t know anyone in my field who does.”
“So now you are offended by stereotypes?” Kate laughed. “That figures.”
“What figures?”
“You don’t like stereotypes. And I’m saying not all romance books fit the stereotype of bodice ripper, either.”
Joe grinned. “Okay. Touché. I won’t judge a bodice ripper by its cover until I read one. Who knows? It could happen.”
Kate laughed. “No, it couldn’t.”
Joe grinned, too—a warm, charming smile—and winked at her. “You’re probably right. But I will reserve judgment just the same.”
“Thank you,” she said graciously.
“So tell me something, Kate. What is it about IT guys that get such a bad rap? I think we’re kind of fun, actually.”
Kate didn’t get the chance to answer—her phone beeped. She picked it up and read the text message:
Mom says air controller strike. Maybe good reason to call it off?
“What is the matter with her?” Kate demanded of no one, and dialed Lisa’s number.
“I knew you’d call,” Lisa said somberly.
“What the hell, Lisa?” Kate said sternly. “Why are you suddenly so unsure of everything? Just two weeks ago you were telling me that Kiefer was the best thing that ever happened to you. Are you going to tell me that now, after four years, in the space of two weeks he has gone from perfect to you wanting to call it off?”
“No! Sort of,” Lisa moaned. “I don’t know, Kate—I just have this bad feeling that he doesn’t really want to marry me.”
“Why? Why why why?” Kate asked angrily.
“Okay, like the other day,” Lisa said. “I was trying to get him to help me with the drink menu for the rehearsal dinner. I mean, it’s his responsibility, but do you think he has taken charge? Nooo. So I said, okay, this has to get done, and I sat down with him, and I said, ‘I’m going to help you, but we have to decide what we are serving. Do you like wine?’ And he was like, ‘I guess,’ and I said, ‘Okay, what about liquor? Are we serving liquor? Because I don’t want everyone getting wasted before my wedding day, which means you, by the way—’”
“Me?” Kate exclaimed.
“No, no, not you. Kiefer. I said that to Kiefer, because you know how he is, Kate. You know. So anyway, he wouldn’t make any decisions at all and he finally said, ‘Why don’t you do it, Lisa? You’ve made up your mind.’ I mean, he was totally abdicating to me, like he has the whole way with this wedding. He wouldn’t help me decide about the church, or the flowers, or how big or small the guest list was. He just tells me to do it and then goes off and watches basketball. What does that say to you? It says to me he doesn’t really want to get married.”
“Wow,” Kate said. “Yes, I agree he could be just a little more supportive of you. After all, this is his wedding, too,” she said. “But it sounds to me like he’s just being childish about it, and not that he doesn’t want to marry you. If he didn’t want to marry you, he’s the kind of guy who would tell you, don’t you think?” Kate looked to Joe for confirmation. He gave her an affirmative nod.
“I don’t know,” Lisa said.
“Well, I do. You’re overreacting. Just relax. Pick the drinks for the rehearsal dinner. Tell Kiefer you guys need to talk about things—”
Joe suddenly shook his head, quite adamantly.
“But later. Much later,” Kate added, and Joe nodded. “Right now, just focus on the wedding and how long you’ve been planning it, and how gorgeous you are going to be.”
That seemed to appease Lisa. “You’re right. It is going to be beautiful, isn’t it? And I am going to be gorgeous. Did you just love the centerpieces? I can’t wait to see you in that dress, Kate.”
Kate rolled her eyes heavenward.
“Just be careful with it. That taffeta really wrinkles.”
“I know,” Kate said patiently.
“So when is your flight out?”
“Ah…” Kate quickly debated telling Lisa the truth. She rubbed the nape of her neck. “I’m not sure yet. They are rerouting a lot of people. But I’ll let you know. So listen, I have to run—”
“I just hope you get out before the air traffic controller strike, because that is the last thing I need to deal with,” Lisa said. “I cannot be without my maid of honor. I’d just as soon reschedule.”
Lord. “You won’t have to do that,” Kate said as confidently as she could manage. “Do you still have that spa package I gave you? Did you schedule that massage?”
“No. But that is a great idea,” Lisa said absently. “Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”
“Great. So listen, I better see about this flight. I’ll call you later?”
She said good-bye and looked at Joe.
“See about what flight?”
“Trust me, it was the right thing to do,” Kate said with a flick of her wrist. “Why are guys so damned insensitive?”
“Why are women so damned sensitive?” he easily countered. “What is it now?”
“Kiefer—that’s my cousin’s fiancé—is not helping,” Kate said, and related the story of Lisa and Kiefer to Joe, from how long they’d been together, to Kiefer’s grand proposal with Christmas lights and a high school chorus, to the last-minute wedding jitters and unwillingness to help.