Page 30

“Real estate can also be a bit overwhelming,” Delia responded, but he only chuckled.

“I suppose it’s a different kind of overwhelming,” he said. “Now I have more control over my schedule, even when you count the late night hand-holding when you’re trying to reassure a nervous client that their mortgage really is going to fund.”

Since Delia had been in that position more than once over the years, she smiled. “Yes, that part can be kind of rough. But I suppose it’s better than dealing with customers who keep sending their food back because their pasta is cold, or whatever.”

She’d meant that as a sort of throwaway line, but something in Aaron’s posture seemed to stiffen.

Was he wondering how she’d known that he’d worked for an Italian restaurant down in Bullhead City?

No, that was silly. Italian food was pretty much universally loved, so making an off-hand comment about pasta wasn’t that out of line.

But then he appeared to relax, saying, “Or letting their kids run wild in the restaurant, or dining and dashing, or — ” He stopped there, a rueful smile touching his lips.

“Anyway, there are lots of things that can go wrong in a restaurant. I suppose you can say the same thing about a house or how it’s getting funded, but I still feel like it’s a lot more rewarding.

You’re helping someone find their forever home. That’s pretty cool, don’t you think?”

Delia did. At the same time, though, she couldn’t help thinking that something about his reply had seemed almost too pat, as if he’d said what he thought she wanted to hear rather than what he was actually thinking.

Or she could be reading way too much into all of this. It had been a while since she’d been on a first date, so maybe she was just rusty and was over-analyzing everything because she couldn’t remember how to act in these sorts of situations.

She’d never felt awkward with Caleb, though, not when they’d first met, not even when they’d gotten into increasingly crazy circumstances.

Because she’d approached him as a client first and then as a friend. There hadn’t been the kind of expectations that inevitably floated around when you were out on a first date.

“I think it’s really rewarding,” she said, and hoped she didn’t sound like someone on a job interview…or maybe answering questions during a beauty pageant. “But then, I grew up around it. My mother’s been a real estate agent for, like, forever.”

“I know,” Aaron replied, and Delia lifted an eyebrow. He didn’t seem fazed, however, and added, “Your mom is kind of a legend in the Las Vegas real estate community. So of course I heard about her when I moved here and set up shop.”

Delia didn’t know about a “legend,” but she had to admit that her mother had been at this for nearly thirty years, which was sort of legendary in itself when you considered how many people came and went in the local real estate industry every year.

And because she sold everything from multimillion-dollar penthouse condos to three-bedroom starter homes, she had an excellent idea of everything that was out there for a potential buyer, no matter what their budget might be.

Wherever this date ended up going, she knew she’d need to tell her mother about this part of it. Linda Dunne would be tickled pink to know that some people regarded her as a legend.

The nachos arrived then, so Delia and Aaron dug into them, exchanging snippets about the local real estate market, trading stories about the oddest things they’d ever seen.

“No kidding, I repped a guy who’d installed carpet on all the ceilings,” Aaron said as he reached for a loaded nacho, barely getting it into his mouth before some of the ground beef and olives and chunks of tomato began to slide right off.

“Why in the world would he do something like that?” Delia asked. She was getting to the bottom of her margarita and figured she should be okay to have another one. The hardest part would be flagging down the waiter, who seemed to have disappeared to another section of the bar.

“He said it was all about noise reduction,” Aaron replied, now that he’d finished chewing.

“Was the guy a musician or something?”

A shake of the head. “Nope. He just said he was sensitive to noise. But it ended up costing him a chunk, because the person who decided to buy the house asked for it to either be removed or to have a reduction in price to cover the cost of repairs.”

Which couldn’t have been cheap, since Delia didn’t even want to think what that kind of installation might have done to the ceiling drywall. “What did he decide to do?”

“He took the money hit,” Aaron said, then swallowed some of his pale ale. “Told me he didn’t want to waste his time looking for contractors. But the cheapest bid came in at around twenty thousand, so it still hurt a good bit.”

That was for sure. Delia guessed that a lot of people might wonder why the repairs would cost so much, but if they’d had to replace all that drywall and repaint throughout the house, then the price of those repairs would add up really fast.

“I never had anyone with carpet on the ceiling,” she said. “Plenty of bathroom carpet, though. You gotta love the eighties.”

Or maybe the seventies. She wasn’t sure when the trend for putting carpet in bathrooms…especially master baths…had first begun, but she was glad it had died out with bell-bottoms and acid wash.

They continued to chat, and when the waiter finally came by and asked if they wanted another round of drinks, neither Delia nor Aaron hesitated in saying yes. In fact, she had to admit to herself that she was having a pretty decent time.

Nothing earth-shattering, of course, but that was all right. She just hadn’t wanted the evening to be an unmitigated disaster, which it certainly was not.

Aaron also talked a little about his family, and since everything he said matched what Prudence had already told her, Delia was rapidly coming to the conclusion that the man had nothing to hide.

And she supposed she should be relieved about that.

The second margarita was even stronger than the first, so she was glad she and Aaron had ordered the plate of nachos, which was huge and served as a decent substitution for an actual meal. Without it, she would have felt downright tipsy rather than being just a little elevated.

Once they were done eating and had finished their drinks, Aaron insisted on walking Delia to her car.

“I know they have security guards, of course,” he told her as they made their way over to the parking garage. “But my mother would have my head if I didn’t make sure that a lady made it to her car safely after a date.”

“Old-fashioned, huh?” Delia asked with a grin, and he nodded.

“She was born in Veracruz and didn’t move to the States until she was around fifteen, when my grandparents on that side of the family emigrated to Nevada. And her grandmother — my great-grandmother — helped raise her, so she’s kind of old-fashioned.”

In a way, Delia liked that idea, of learning from your forebears, of being steeped in tradition and old family customs. Both her parents had moved here from elsewhere, her father from Chicago and her mother from Seattle, and her grandparents still lived out of state.

They came to visit when they could…usually in the depths of winter, so they could escape the snow and the rain for a week or maybe two…

but it wasn’t anything like being raised with all of them around all the time.

“Well, I appreciate the company,” she said. “I’ve never had a problem in one of these parking garages, but a friend of mine was mugged at Treasure Island a couple of years ago.”

And of course, Caleb had been attacked by a couple of minion demons in the Bellagio’s parking structure back in January, but she supposed that wasn’t quite the same thing as a regular old mugging.

Not that she had any intention of mentioning that particular episode to Aaron Sanchez.

He looked sufficiently sympathetic after learning about her friend’s incident. “I hate hearing stuff like that. Was she okay?”

“Yes, just shaken up,” Delia replied. “The mugger got her purse, but because she had ‘Find My Phone’ enabled on her iPhone, the police caught up with the guy just a couple of hours later. He wasn’t exactly the sharpest tack in the box, or maybe all the meth had just fried his brains.”

That was why he’d attacked Megan. She’d seemed like an easy mark, one who hopefully had enough cash on her that the man could buy himself another hit.

Ever since then, Megan had carried pepper spray with her.

Delia didn’t bring up that particular detail, though, or mention that she had the same defensive weapon in her own purse.

Of course, she would have no need to use it tonight — Aaron seemed like a perfect gentleman — but at the same time, it never felt smart to reveal all your cards.

“Here we are,” she said as they approached her white Kona SUV. A silver BMW occupied the spot to its right, but the one on the left was empty, giving them an easy angle of approach to the driver’s-side door.

They paused there, Aaron now looking a little awkward.

But this was always the fraught part of a first date, wasn’t it?

The tense little pause while they tried to decide whether the time was right for a kiss, all the mental calculus that went into determining if this would be a first date with no follow-up or maybe something more.

In this case, though, Delia already knew how she felt about the situation. Yes, Aaron seemed like a nice guy, and they’d certainly had a pleasant conversation over drinks. However, she hadn’t experienced a single spark while she was with him, letting her know the chemistry just wasn’t there.

And that was fine. She’d tell him she’d had a good time…

even as she was inwardly grateful that they’d agreed to split the check, so at least there shouldn’t be any entitlement issues to deal with…

and then that would be the end of it. True, she’d still have to see him on a professional basis going forward, but they were both adults.

Sometimes things were meant to be, and sometimes they just weren’t.

“Thanks for meeting me here,” Aaron said. His tone had softened a little, and his dark eyes now seemed almost too piercing, almost black, very different from Caleb’s warm brown.

That direct gaze put Delia instantly on alert. She’d seen that same look on other men’s faces before, and it usually meant they were about to lean in for a kiss.

Which was the last thing she wanted. Aaron was physically appealing enough, she supposed, but he wasn’t the guy for her.

And that was why this needed to end here.

“It was fun,” she said. “But I need to get going. Early day tomorrow.”

The statement wasn’t an exaggeration; she really did have a client meeting her at the office at eight-thirty, the only time the man could squeeze out of his schedule before he had to get to work.

However, Aaron didn’t seem too happy to hear about her professional commitments. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice turned coaxing.

“Oh, come on,” he replied. “It’s not that late. I was kind of hoping we could go back to my place for a nightcap.”

A nightcap? Did people even say that anymore?

But Aaron looked serious enough, which meant she needed to tread cautiously…

even as she thought he had some pretty big cojones if he thought she was going to go back to his place on a first date.

She wasn’t a prude or anything, and yet she had never once gone to bed with a guy after just a couple of drinks.

“Thanks, but I really need to get home.”

For just a moment, his eyes remained narrowed, but then he appeared to shake off his irritation, saying, “Okay, sure.”

And then he leaned in toward her, one hand reaching for the small of her waist.

Instinctively, she moved away, and a flash of anger showed in his features.

“So…not even a goodnight kiss?”

In the grand scheme of things, Delia knew it wasn’t that huge a deal. But something inside her was recoiling, and if she’d learned anything over the years, it was to trust her gut.

“I don’t kiss on the first date,” she said, her tone deliberately light.

You really think you’re all that?

The words sounded clear in her mind as a bell, and for a second, she just stood there, not sure what the hell was going on.

Had she just heard Aaron Sanchez’s thoughts?

Before she could even begin to process what had just happened, he spoke again.

“I get it. You have a nice night, Delia.”

He turned and walked away, his stride fast, angry. For just a second, she wondered if she should say something to stop him, then realized this was the best possible outcome. At least he’d gotten the message.

And although she knew she had a lot she needed to sort out, one thing was crystal clear.

She didn’t think she’d have to worry about Aaron Sanchez anymore.