The Methuselah Project Read Online Free PDF Page B

giddy over her rescued file, she said, “Does it involve editing books?”
    “Oh no, nothing like that.” A nervous twitch of a smile confirmed something quite different was ready to surface. “The first time you were here, when you dropped off your notebook, I noticed what a pleasant personality you have. I also noticed you don’t wear a ring on your left hand. So I couldn’t help wondering if perhaps you are interested in seeing men? Socially, that is?”
    The ultra-polite phrasing of his invitation struck Katherine as humorous, but with those sincere, dark brown eyes studying hers and waiting for a response, she squelched any impulse to laugh. Besides, compared to some of the crass propositions other men tossed her way, his approach might be considered chivalrous. He certainly seemed more down-to-earth than banker Thaddeus, Uncle Kurt’s most recent offering.
    Katherine scrounged for words. “Uh, thank you, Mr.”—she glanced at the stack of business cards in their black plastic holder—“Farzeen, for your interest. I’m flattered you ask. Unfortunately my life is kind of complicated right now.”
    His smile shrank from hopeful to perfunctory. “It’s okay. Many American women prefer not to socialize with immigrants. I understa—”
    “Oh no, it’s nothing like that. I’m not prejudiced against immigrants. I find people from overseas fascinating. It’s just that …” She sighed. She really didn’t care to launch into a detailed description of Uncle Kurt and the “long and honorable Mueller tradition” of the parents finding suitable spouses for the next generation. She’d endured her uncle’s displeasure over unapproved encounters before. They simply weren’t worth the emotional wringer. Besides, as far as the HO was concerned, she’d sworn not to mention its existence to outsiders.
    “Farzeen, my life is too convoluted to explain, but at this stage of the game, I’m basically not seeing any men socially. If things change …”
    He nodded. “My invitation remains open. You’re always welcome in my shop, even without a broken computer.” He broke into a good-natured grin that put her at ease.
    Katherine scooped up her laptop. “Thanks for being understanding—and sweet.” The moment she pushed open the shop’s glass door, the day’s sweltering heat enveloped her with oven-like intensity. Combined with humidity, the ninety-four-degree temperature felt even higher. It immediately popped beads of sweat onto her brow. She hurried to the protection of her car’s air-conditioning.
    Moments later, steering her Volkswagen Passat south on Peachtree Street with the AC blowing full blast, she let loose a rare growl of frustration. “Bless his heart, but sometimes Uncle Kurt makes me want to scream!”
    It wasn’t that she was attracted to the foreign technician. She wasn’t. At the moment, though, he embodied all potential candidates for romance. Why did Uncle Kurt insist on controlling a key decision in her life? Couldn’t he simply forget outdated customs and trust her judgment?
    As a little girl growing up with her uncle, she hadn’t minded some of his old-fashioned rules. Now that she was an adult, though, she craved freedom. The social straitjacket stifled her worse than today’s temperatures.
    She cruised past a man and woman strolling hand in hand down the roadside. Their pace was leisurely, and the woman tilted her blonde head into the man’s shoulder despite the ungodly heat. The image struck Katherine as both idyllic and torturous. She hadn’t so much as touched a boy’s hand since Andrei Timoshenko, back at UGA. As expected, Uncle Kurt had objected and urged her to wait for someone in the Heritage Organization if she needed companionship. In the end, Andrei had simply vanished without a word, probably back to his homeland, effectively nixing their brief relationship. She pictured the Ukrainian student’s smiling face. She’d enjoyed Andrei’s keen wit, and he’d always