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on the little piece of paper he d given her in the other, for over two hours.
But she d not found the courage or perhaps sanity had ruled and she
hadn t made the call.
Carol checked her reflection one last time in the darkened glass
window outside Lowery s. Her new dress which had cost way too much
for her librarian s salary was a soft floral print that hugged her curves
and fell to just above her knees. She didn t think a skin tight black thing
was appropriate for this particular restaurant. With a deep breath for
courage, she pulled open the heavy glass door.
The lighting was dim, with candles on the tables and subdued
chandeliers overhead. A few couples danced on the hardwood floor in the
middle of the room to the soft music flowing from the piano in the far
corner. The scent of grilled steak and spicy garlic filled the air. Her
stomach rumbled, from hunger or nerves, she wasn t sure.
Glancing around the room, she didn t spot Tagg. As the couple in
front of her was led away to a table, the man behind a small podium
asked if he could help her.
I m meeting a Mr. Taggert for supper, she answered.
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One Night of Paradise
The man in the finely pressed black tuxedo checked his book and
nodded. He s not arrived yet. Would you care to be seated, or would you
prefer to wait in the bar?
The table would be fine, she answered, not sure what was
proper. What the heck? A person only lives once. And Carol Barnes only
lived for this one last night.
A hostess led her to a small table toward the back of the room from
where she could watch the front door and see Tagg when he walked in.
Her heart sped up at just the thought of being in his company again, even
if it was only for dinner.
She d seen Billy twice during the week. They d just passed in the
hallway, but even that little contact with Tagg s son had felt like
something special. Billy was really a good kid. He was one of those that
acted up for the attention. She d spent time talking to him about his
mother when she d helped him on his report, and learned that his mother
wasn t home a lot of the time. She liked to party, as Billy put it. He wanted
to move in with his father as soon as he turned sixteen, when the courts in
their area let the child decide which parent with whom he preferred to
live.
His dad was always there for him, Billy had told her. It was his
mother who d been missing from his life since the divorce.
The maître d came to take her drink order. She ordered a coffee.
The last thing she wanted was alcohol to dull her senses if this was her
last night with Tagg.
Carol watched the door, watched the couples on the dance floor,
and wondered if Tagg would ask her to dance. Other than swaying with
Mr. Bigsley, the seventy three year old Economics teacher at the last
school dance she helped chaperone, Carol hadn t been dancing since high
school. And even then, it had been with a group of girls. She d never slow
danced, or fast danced either for that matter, with a man. Her husband
had thought dancing un masculine.
Dreaming again? she asked herself. Yeah, I am. Oh, well. That s all
she had. Her dreams.
After three cups of coffee and realizing an hour had passed, Carol
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Anna Leigh Keaton
couldn t deny the niggling thought that she d been stood up. She didn t
know whether to be angry or embarrassed. Or worried. Something could
have happened to Tagg at work. No, she wouldn t let herself think that.
She refused to worry about him. Five more minutes and she d leave.
She used the restroom as a stalling tactic, hoping against hope that
Tagg would show, but still he wasn t there when she exited into the lobby.
With one last longing glance toward her table at the other end of the
room, she headed for the front door. An elderly gentleman in a tuxedo
approached her just as she reached for the door.
Ms. Barnes? he asked.
She frowned. Yes? She was Ms. Barnes if this had to do with
Tagg.
The man let out a audible sigh of relief. My name is Bradley, I m
the restaurant manager. I have a message for you from Detective Taggert.
He told me I had to tell it to you just as he d said it. When Carol nodded
for him to continue, he pulled a piece of paper from his pants pocket and
frowned down at it. I m sorry. I was detained at the station. I feel terrible
for missing our date. Please don t hold it against me. Please call me on my
cell phone as soon as you get home. The manager crinkled his brow and
looked at her with concern. This is when he said I should get on my
knees if I had to and say, Please, please, please.
Carol chuckled and lightly touched the older gentleman s arm. Sir,
no need to do that. Thank you for relaying the message. She pushed open
the heavy glass door and went outside before she let herself acknowledge
the sadness crowding her heart.
It was over.
She should have known better than to get her hopes up. People like
Liam Taggert didn t happen in her life. Not for keeps, anyway.
She stepped into the phone booth on the corner and shut the door
behind her, which turned on the overhead light. Pulling the folded piece
of paper from her purse with Tagg s numbers on it, she dropped a coin in
the phone and dialed Tagg s home.
Hi, Tagg. It s Carol, she said, forcing herself to sound as chipper
as could be. Sorry we didn t connect tonight. The manager gave me your
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One Night of Paradise
message. I think I misplaced your cell phone number. Anyway...
Anyway what? She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that
wanted to fall. She took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. Her
mother had always told her that if you smiled when on the phone, you
couldn t sound sad or angry. Thanks for last weekend. It...meant a lot to
me. Bye. She hung up before she could change her mind. She stared
down at the paper with his numbers on it, then slowly tore it in half, then
half again, and again and again, making it impossible to turn back and
give in to the urge to call him out of desperation.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision. Sure, she
could always call the police station, or she could look up Billy s file in the
office, but she wouldn t. Without the temptation of having his numbers in
her possession, she wouldn t call. Bye, she whispered again as she laid
the shredded papers on the little table beneath the phone, and then
pushed the door open and stepped out into the blustery night air.
* * * * *
Tagg cursed loud and long when he got home and checked his
messages. Damn it, he should have had his home phone forwarded to his
cell. He should have known she d do something sneaky. And he d bet his
last dollar that she d called from a pay phone, not her home phone, so
there was no possibility of tracing it of finding her.
What was with her? He hadn t tried to find her all week, hoping
that things would be different after they saw each other again. He d been
hoping she d open up a little and at the very least, give him her real
name. But he d had to spend an extra four hours at the station filling out
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