instantly. She wasn’t kidding. And he had no recollection of the conversation.
“No I didn’t.” His conviction crumbled and he didn’t know what else to say.
“I’m not making this up, Marcus.”
“I don’t think you are, but we didn’t talk about it.”
“We did.”
He glanced at his watch. “I have to go. I have a lunch with Tim Schwarzburg.” Marcus turned to the door.
“Stop.” Kat spun him around, her hands on his arms. “Look at me. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I honestly don’t remember the conversation. I’m probably processing an abundance of stress due to the start of the new quarter.” He kissed her on her forehead and then on her lips. “Or possibly I fell asleep while we were conversing. Or maybe you dreamed of the conversation.”
“No, I didn’t—”
“Then maybe I did. I have to go.” He pulled open the door and pretended the jangle of the bells kept him from hearing Kat call his name.
The heat that had started while in the shop grew into an all-out blaze inside Marcus’s body. Even though he knew he wouldn’t see the man, he still strode back to the corner of the Ave and 45th and stared at the spot where the man had stood. Whatever was going on had something to do with the flashes of light that had come off the window and the car bumper. So what? He couldn’t make another flash of light happen because he wanted it to. As he stared across the street, a man to his right jostled him.
“Sorry, man. My fault.” An Asian man raised his hands in apology and light flashed off his watch. There was no feeling of vertigo, no feeling anything had changed. But what if it had?
On impulse he pulled out his cell phone and called Tim. “I’m going to be late for lunch. Sorry.”
Marcus slid his cell phone back into the front pocket of his jeans and half walked, half jogged back to Kat’s shop. He didn’t know how he’d react if he saw what he expected. But he had to check.The bell jingled just as before when he pushed the door open, but that didn’t stop his body from going numb because nothing else was the same.
“Hey, I didn’t think you were going to stop by. I thought you had a lunch.”
“I do. I . . .”
Marcus wiped the sweat from his forehead. Kat wore a pair of black jeans and a white blouse. No tan slacks, no red shirt, and her hair was pulled back.
“What’s going on with you?”
“I’m fine.”
“And I’m Tinker Bell. What’s wrong, Professor?”
“I don’t know. My stomach seized up just now.” He bent over. He didn’t think she’d buy it, but if she didn’t, she kept it to herself.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, it’s feeling better already. It’s likely nothing more than my breakfast having a spirited debate within my intestines.”
“Sorry.”
“And it’s certainly not enough to keep me from missing out on your new creation, so I’m hoping you’re willing to give me a sample.”
“What new creation?”
“The one you wanted to try on me today.”
“Nice mind reading, bucko. How did you know I’ve been trying to find something new to make?”
“You haven’t made it yet?” The heat returned.
“No. Why, you have an idea?”
Where had he been ten minutes ago? Not here, based on Kat’s words and dress. But he had been here, there was no doubt in his mind. He needed time to analyze this. Ask the Spirit. Figure out what was going on.
“I said, you have an idea?”
Marcus blinked and frowned at her. “Yes. A glazed donut hole with a splash of orange mixed in. Call them OBs. They’ll taste sensational. Trust me.” Marcus turned and staggered out of the bakery.For the second time that day Kat called after him and for the second time he ignored her.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and texted Tim, canceling lunch, then dialed Brandon.
“Hey, brain boy, what’s up?” Brandon almost shouted over the sound of music in the background. “Sorry about the
“No I didn’t.” His conviction crumbled and he didn’t know what else to say.
“I’m not making this up, Marcus.”
“I don’t think you are, but we didn’t talk about it.”
“We did.”
He glanced at his watch. “I have to go. I have a lunch with Tim Schwarzburg.” Marcus turned to the door.
“Stop.” Kat spun him around, her hands on his arms. “Look at me. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I honestly don’t remember the conversation. I’m probably processing an abundance of stress due to the start of the new quarter.” He kissed her on her forehead and then on her lips. “Or possibly I fell asleep while we were conversing. Or maybe you dreamed of the conversation.”
“No, I didn’t—”
“Then maybe I did. I have to go.” He pulled open the door and pretended the jangle of the bells kept him from hearing Kat call his name.
The heat that had started while in the shop grew into an all-out blaze inside Marcus’s body. Even though he knew he wouldn’t see the man, he still strode back to the corner of the Ave and 45th and stared at the spot where the man had stood. Whatever was going on had something to do with the flashes of light that had come off the window and the car bumper. So what? He couldn’t make another flash of light happen because he wanted it to. As he stared across the street, a man to his right jostled him.
“Sorry, man. My fault.” An Asian man raised his hands in apology and light flashed off his watch. There was no feeling of vertigo, no feeling anything had changed. But what if it had?
On impulse he pulled out his cell phone and called Tim. “I’m going to be late for lunch. Sorry.”
Marcus slid his cell phone back into the front pocket of his jeans and half walked, half jogged back to Kat’s shop. He didn’t know how he’d react if he saw what he expected. But he had to check.The bell jingled just as before when he pushed the door open, but that didn’t stop his body from going numb because nothing else was the same.
“Hey, I didn’t think you were going to stop by. I thought you had a lunch.”
“I do. I . . .”
Marcus wiped the sweat from his forehead. Kat wore a pair of black jeans and a white blouse. No tan slacks, no red shirt, and her hair was pulled back.
“What’s going on with you?”
“I’m fine.”
“And I’m Tinker Bell. What’s wrong, Professor?”
“I don’t know. My stomach seized up just now.” He bent over. He didn’t think she’d buy it, but if she didn’t, she kept it to herself.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, it’s feeling better already. It’s likely nothing more than my breakfast having a spirited debate within my intestines.”
“Sorry.”
“And it’s certainly not enough to keep me from missing out on your new creation, so I’m hoping you’re willing to give me a sample.”
“What new creation?”
“The one you wanted to try on me today.”
“Nice mind reading, bucko. How did you know I’ve been trying to find something new to make?”
“You haven’t made it yet?” The heat returned.
“No. Why, you have an idea?”
Where had he been ten minutes ago? Not here, based on Kat’s words and dress. But he had been here, there was no doubt in his mind. He needed time to analyze this. Ask the Spirit. Figure out what was going on.
“I said, you have an idea?”
Marcus blinked and frowned at her. “Yes. A glazed donut hole with a splash of orange mixed in. Call them OBs. They’ll taste sensational. Trust me.” Marcus turned and staggered out of the bakery.For the second time that day Kat called after him and for the second time he ignored her.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and texted Tim, canceling lunch, then dialed Brandon.
“Hey, brain boy, what’s up?” Brandon almost shouted over the sound of music in the background. “Sorry about the