Free The Cinderella Project (A Comedy of Love, #1) by Stan Crowe Page B

wave.
    “Ah, Doctor Cairn,” Moiré said, “I almost wondered when you’d get here, but then I realized that it wasn’t quite three-thirty, so I stopped worrying.”
    I attempted a smile, but couldn’t hold her gaze. Instead, I made a point of looking intensely at The Chair and then fiddling with the sensor tabs, knowing there was nothing at all wrong with them.
    “Hmm,” I muttered, sensing her coming up beside me. “Everything looks okay here.”
    “I know,” she said simply. “I check it every day when I get in, if you haven’t already arrived.” Again, impressive. I’d never had such a thoughtful, thorough, proactive research assistant. I thanked her for it and steeled myself against the way she smiled at my praise.
    “So, it’s observation day.”
    She nodded. “Where do we begin?”
    “There’s Rotary Club Park just up the road. You can’t go there without stepping on some pair of lovebirds doing… whatever.”
    She nodded again. “Sounds good. Let’s go,” she said and she went to get her backpack.
    I froze for an instant and then relaxed as I realized she was only saying that we ought to be on our way to observe couples—not to be one of them. I forced myself back into professional mode, and when she returned with her stuff we departed.
    At the outskirts of the park, I stopped and took stock of the area. It was as lovely as ever, despite the July heat. Though I preferred this place at night, the ambience of trees, flowers, singing birds and all that sweet, romance film stuff was soothing, especially compared to the sterility of psych lab cubicles. Sure enough, couples had invaded the entire park. A rash of guys in their early twenties occupied a playground, doing stupid things on slides and monkey bars while equally-young girls looked on in amusement. I rolled my eyes at the brazen, juvenile displays. So much for the old days, when we just brought home animal carcasses or shot another man in a duel.
    “Oh look,” Moiré said blandly, “monkeys in jeans.”
    I coughed on a spasmodic laugh. Moiré patted me on the back and asked if I needed help clearing my throat, but her serious expression was belied by the mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
    “No, no,” I said. I stood, cleared my throat and looked back at the park. “I’m fine. Anyway, I think I see what I was looking for.”
    “The redhead sitting alone on the rock?” She pointed to her left.
    My face warmed suddenly. “No! I… I… never mind. I didn’t come here to check out girls. Just to observe how they interacted with their boyfriends .”
    “Ah .” Her eyes lit with understanding. “How could I forget? My apologies, Doctor Cairn.” Her face turned serious again. “I’ll have to remember that handsome, single, professional guys merely ‘observe’ the ladies. Forgive me for assuming that you’d do something as uncouth as ‘check them out.’”
    “Look, Miss De Lanthe,” I traded title for title, “can we please take this a little more seriously? I do have other things to do tonight.”
    “With the redhead?” She asked, but then blushed slightly. “Sorry, Nick. You’re easy to tease. I learned it from my brothers. I’m sorry. I hope I haven’t given you the impression that I’m some kind of flake.”
    I blinked. “I remind you of… your brothers?”
    She raised an eyebrow, but her eyes were clearly playful. “Should I have said you’re just like my dad, instead?”
    I couldn’t think of what to say, nor did I know why it would bother me that she might look at me the same way she looked at her brothers or father. Eventually, I shook my head clear and pointed at a spot on the lawn a good distance from the redheaded girl Moiré had pointed out. “I want you over there.”
    She looked as if she were about to say something, but then stopped and gave me an inquiring look. “Fair enough. Are you… going to stay here?”
    I shook my head. “I’ll be over there,” I said, pointing to a small cluster of