“I brought the newspaper so you can see the picture and what was said in the article. It’s bad, I’m afraid, not only because the reporters researched you, but because they dangerously named your residence. I will be calling to complain about that, but meanwhile, I think it would be better if you stayed with me for a few days. Will you do that for me?”
Wow. He was inviting me over finally! Inside me, chimes were pealing because it was finally happening; he was ready to show me where he lived. But I didn’t express my enthusiasm for the idea at the moment. I simply said, “May I?” and stretched out my hand for the paper
Timothy passed it over. A huge picture took up most of the newspaper’s front cover — of us in full color, staring at each other. In the newspaper photo, I was gazing up into Timothy’s eyes, looking entirely love-struck. His expression mirrored mine. We’d been caught at a moment of full-throttled emotion. The photographer might as well have captioned it: Enamored With Each Other. But, instead, he had only stated our names and the information that the photo had been taken at the Grand Opening of the Caldwell Fine Arts Gallery.
I wished that the article hadn’t given my full name, but I didn’t see what Timothy was so rattled about. I began reading the accompanying article.
It was supposed to be a story about the art show, but the writer had invested more space for the relationship between Timothy and me than in any discussion of the quality of the gallery’s holdings. In fact, the man had written, “Timothy Caldwell may fancy himself an expert in the arts, but right now it seems that his full attention is on Penelope Casey, whom everyone will admit, outshines every single painting in the brand-new gallery.
“And for all those wondering where Caldwell found this particular piece of art; Penelope is a product of our own San Jose, California, residing in an apartment only a short distance from the Caldwell Fine Arts Gallery. Although she works for a well-known investigation’s firm, I suspect that Penelope will be spending many hours otherwise preoccupied in dating the very eligible bachelor, Timothy Caldwell. Looking at this picture, one has to wonder: are wedding bells in the future for this couple?”
I groaned. “It’s so cheesy,” I said. “Why in the world did he have turn the whole gala into a love fest between you and me?”