The Beauty Queen's Makeover. Teresa Southwick

that way. She was late—for life.

      This was a cozy room, but it wasn’t home. It wasn’t surprising that she wasn’t anxious to go back to California and not because of the earthquakes. She had no career to go back to. But she had to figure out what to do for the professor as soon as possible because she couldn’t afford an indefinite stay in this room.

      And speaking of rooms, what had possessed her to let Nate into her life at all, let alone into her own for dinner?

      She hadn’t dated since college and it was scary to be with a man at all. Yet she’d agreed to room service! Most women were smart enough to meet men in public places. But with her face scarred, that was scarier than room service. She wasn’t quite sure how Nate had talked her into this. He must be one heck of a lawyer.

      Now the pressure was on and the timing was tricky. Dinner needed to be here within a few minutes of when he showed up so they wouldn’t have too much time alone before room service arrived. But she didn’t want it here too early or the cold food ick factor would set in.

      Why should she care if the food turned out to be mush? There was a comforting thought. It’s not as if there would be anything long-term between them. Her future was up in the air and until she got her act together, there wasn’t room for anyone else in this mess she called a life. She couldn’t explain why she’d trusted Nate more than anyone in ten years, but that didn’t mean she could muster a level of trust that would sustain a lasting relationship.

      There was a knock on her door and the butterflies fluttering in her stomach collided and fused into a lump the size of Massachusetts. She took a deep, cleansing breath, then released it as she went to check the peephole. It was Nate, not room service, and she opened the door wide, as her heart gave the inside of her chest the one, two punch.

      “Hi, Nate.”

      His smile was devastatingly attractive. “Katie.”

      He was the only one who used the nickname and it seemed somehow special, warming her clear to her soul. “Come in.”

      “Thanks.” He handed her a brown bag twisted around a bottle.

      Frowning, she said, “What’s this?”

      “Sparkling water. I couldn’t find any in the hotel gift shop, so I went to the convenience store down the street. That’s why I’m a little late.”

      Relief washed over her at the same time she was ashamed of herself. She’d been so sure it was some kind of liquor to get her drunk. There it was—her failure to trust. Proof positive of her faith-in-men handicap. But she didn’t have to trust him forever, just tonight. Dinner. That was all. He’d get tired of looking at her flawed face and failure to attain intimacy, then an F16 flying Mach one couldn’t get him out of there fast enough. She was silly to even consider a future and Nate in the same thought process.

      “Thanks. That was sweet of you.” She took the bag. “I’m sorry. Dinner was supposed to be here by now.”

      He glanced around. “I’m shocked and appalled.”

      “Room service isn’t that reliable.”

      “Not room service. I thought you’d whip something up with a curling iron, a blow-dryer and a hot plate.”

      She laughed. “Don’t think I couldn’t. But I’m fresh out of hot plates so I had to rely on hotel staff and, as you can see, dinner hasn’t arrived.”

      A small smile curved his mouth as he stared at her. “I hadn’t noticed. With a beautiful woman like you in the room, I can’t even think about food.”

      It was blatant flattery, probably as transparent as plastic wrap, but her bruised and barren soul soaked it up like a drought-ravaged desert. At the same time she wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. He made her want to be beautiful. For the first time in ten years. And the thought was heartbreaking. Why did she meet him now, when she’d never be pretty again?

      Before that thought had the chance to suck her down, there was a knock at the door. This time Nate answered it and she was grateful he was there.

      “Room service,” he said after checking, then he opened up for the hotel staff to push the cart inside. “Just set up on the table by the window.”

      Kathryn stood out of the way and let him handle everything. After a year out of the fast lane, things that had once been second nature, seemed foreign and difficult now. Nate was very good at it.