He smiled, and it felt like sunlight. Steady.

“Just a little reminder,” he said. “Someday, when it's gray and dark outside,

or you're feeling down, maybe it will remind you of another place.”

Sentiment? From Peter? That was almost as surprising as him standing here

in her office.

She put the trinket on the window sill. “So, why are you here, really?”

He nodded, hands up. “Sorry, yes. I should have said earlier. I was up in Highland Park. At the Dixon School.”

More heart thumping. He did the interview? “You did the interview?”

“More of an interrogation, really.”

“So, how did it go?”

He shrugged. “Pretty well, I guess.”

Pretty well in Peter-speak usually meant very well.

“So…are you still in the running for the job?”

“I suppose so. I'm sure there will be a lot of other applicants. It's a pretty prestigious school.”

“You suppose so? We need to work on your self-promotion skills.”

He shrugged, some of the light leaving the room.

Kate touched his arm. “Okay, I'm sorry. I guess…I'm not meaning to push you.”

The smile returned. “No problem.”

“Nice office,” he said, nodding.

“Thanks. Not sure if I deserve it though.”

“Really? Now who needs work on their self-promotion skills?” He crossed

his arms. “Why do you say that?”

She shrugged. “No reason, really.” Then she traced some dust from the

windowsill. “I used to do more actual design work. When I started. Now it's like

half my job is meetings.” Why was she telling him this?

He nodded. “Meetings. Tell me about it. Had enough of those even today.”

“I never liked doing interviews. All those awkward questions: What is your

biggest weakness? Where do you see yourself in three years? If you could do anything and get paid, what would it be?” She shook her head.

“So, what would it be?” he asked.

“Hmm?” A halo of sun framed his head.

“If you could do anything, what would it be?”

She took in a breath. The question hung in the air, and she had no idea how

to answer it. “Oh. Well, it would be something with graphic design. Logos, posters, brochure layouts. I did a book cover for a friend once—that was a blast.”

He was just nodding, wordless.

“I suppose what I'd really like to do would be to have my own design studio.” Where was this coming from? But the idea sparked something inside her.

“Why don't you do that,” he asked, still in halo.

She shifted so she could see his face, and leaned against the edge of the window sill. “Oh, that would be way down the road. Besides, start my own company? Way too risky for me right now.”

Peter was just nodding slowly, smiling.

She popped up, an idea in her head. “Look, how long are you in town?”

“Oh. I was planning on going back tonight.”

She shook her head. “Not until you've had dinner.”

He grinned. “What did you have in mind?”

Her head cocked. “What is your opinion on Marinetti's Deep-Dish Reuben

Pizza with Zucchini Pickle Relish?”

The grin grew. “Sounds horrible. When do we eat?”

Chapter Nineteen

Peter's stomach had almost recovered from last night's Paisley Thai pizza at Marinetti's, although some residual growls still rumbled through his gut. Must have been the banana peppers Kate had insisted on. But it had been good.

Fantastic, actually.

His Camry rolled through the theatre district to the address Kate had given

him. He saw the stairs that led up to the Chicago el platform at State and Lake.