Though he looked pleased, he shrugged off her words. “It wasn’t any big deal.”
She figured Jeremy didn’t realize it, but Gunnar had almost said the same exact words to her last week. Hiding a smile, she added, “I hope he didn’t get mad at you for passing it on or anything.”
“He didn’t get mad. Gunnar doesn’t get mad about things like that.”
“No? Well, that’s good.” Gunnar Law didn’t seem like the kind of man to get riled up about much. Probably wouldn’t break a sweat about anything that he didn’t care about too deeply. She wondered what he did care about. Was it just Jeremy? Or was he already seeing someone and she was making a fool of herself? “Hey, Jeremy, sorry if this is too personal, but is Gunnar seeing anyone right now?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Seeing, like does he have a girlfriend?” His voice had risen an octave.
“Yes. Like that.” Or, like, a wife.
“No, he doesn’t.” The boy almost smiled again, but something just beyond her seemed to have caught his attention.
“Oh. Well, um, thanks.”
“No problem.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets then glanced across the parking lot. Kimber followed his gaze and saw he was looking at a group of cute girls standing together. No, it was obvious he was gazing at one of them in particular.
Kimber had noticed the girl right away. She was a pretty thing with truly gorgeous long, light-brown hair. She’d also been casting covert glances at Jeremy whenever he looked the other way.
Deciding to do Jeremy a favor, since he’d helped her out, she said, “This isn’t my business, but it’s been my experience that if a guy doesn’t make the first move, a girl assumes that he doesn’t like her.”
Jeremy’s head whipped around to stare at her. “Really?”
“Honest. Girls might be all ‘this is 2020,’ but some things don’t change. They don’t want to make the first move.” She grinned. “I don’t lie about relationships.”
When Jeremy looked longingly over at the girl again, Kimber decided to give him some space. “Well, I’m outta here,” she said. “Have a good evening.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “’Kay. You too.”
After inspecting her tires and releasing a sigh of relief that nothing was damaged today, she got in her car and left the school grounds—pleased to notice that Jeremy and the girl were now chatting up a storm. Well, maybe things were going better over there.
Kind of like her day had gone better than the other days she’d volunteered. The kids weren’t looking at her strangely as much and Mrs. Lentz was giving her more to do. So those things were a plus.
Though she loved books and she liked reading to kids, she now knew that working in a library wasn’t going to satisfy her, career-wise.
She just wasn’t sure what her dream job actually was.
That was frustrating, because she seemed to be harboring a sense of confusion about who she was too. She’d always been kind of reluctant to model. She’d liked it, but she’d never gone out of her way to talk about her modeling life to anyone. It hadn’t been because she’d been shy about the traveling, long days, or the success she’d achieved.
Actually, she’d felt the opposite—she just hadn’t cared that much about it.
Traci had once accused her of being modest, but that hadn’t been it either. Oh, she’d been pleased with her success and the way everyone in the business had seemed to like how she looked. She liked doing things well, so she’d worked hard to garner a good reputation. She’d arrived on time for shoots, been easy to work with, and been diligent about maintaining her measurements. Designers hated it when models’ weights fluctuated and they had to make emergency alterations.
But although she’d done a good job, she’d felt nothing but relief when she’d finally made the decision to quit.
But now? Now she realized that she’d looked at her profession as who she was.
So if she wasn’t Kimber Klein, the successful model . . . she didn’t know who she was.
As if her mother was reading her mind, her cell phone rang. Glad that everything was all connected via blue tooth in her fancy car, she clicked on the icon on her steering wheel. “Hi, Mom.”
“Kimber, I’m so glad I caught you.”
Her mom sounded a little breathless. Worried now, she said, “Why? What’s up?”
“It might be nothing, but we got the strangest call on the house phone last night. I was going to call you right away, but your dad told me to let you sleep.”
“Let me sleep? How late was that call?”
“After ten.”
She wouldn’t have been asleep, and she doubted her parents had been asleep either. But it still seemed late.
Her parents refused to get rid of their landline, which meant they got a good handful of phone calls from telemarketers every day. “Mama, I’ve told you, those telemarketers are trouble.”
“It wasn’t one of them, honey. It was from Brett.”
“You mean Brett, my agent?” What in the heck was he doing, calling her parents? Was he hounding them about something? If so, she was going to kill him.
Her mother’s usually bright voice turned more tentative. “Yes, I mean, I believe so. I don’t know any other agents, do you?”
“No.”
“Well, then . . .”
Her mother was a chipper sort of person. She was also a successful financial advisor, opinionated, and into everyone’s business. Her mother was not tentative. Ever. So hearing that unfamiliar note in her mom’s voice was not a good thing. She was going to give Brett Day a piece of her mind if he upset her mother.
Feeling protective, she pulled into the parking lot of a church and got ready to listen. “Mama, what did my agent have to say?”
“Well, dear, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. It was all very strange.”
“What was?”
“He . . .” She paused. “See, Brett told me that he’s been having trouble getting ahold of you and he was getting worried.”
“He said that?”
“Almost word for word. Kimmy honey, I tell you what, I didn’t know what to think or what to say. I mean, I knew you hadn’t changed your phone number.”
“No, I have not.” Oh, she was peeved.
“I think you have the same email too. I mean, I’m not one to send you emails, but I think it’s the same. Right?”