Dreaming a Reality Read Free Page A

alone a romantic relationship. I am open to anything, as long as you are too.
    I popped opened Dean’s e-mail right away:
    Dear Katherine,
    Hello again! I just wanted to say I’ve been having a great time talking with you this past week. I know we only met online, during the night, when I couldn’t sleep. That night I was glad I didn’t get any rest. Hope to hear from you today. Can’t wait to meet you. Take care and talk to you soon.
    From your restless friend,
    Dean
    It just so happened Dean lived in Chicago, and he suggested meeting me somewhere downtown later that night. I agreed as long as he didn’t mind meeting Jenny also. I did all the checking to make sure the dating site was secure, but I was still apprehensive about it. I mean, it’s not every day you meet people on the computer. Well, unless you work with them—which reminded me of Mitch again.
    I had seen Mitch’s couple of e-mails and decided not to open them. I knew it would be the same thing—saying how we were together in the past and how great it was. Just because it happened once didn’t mean that it would happen again. It would be different if Mitch wasn’t married, but he was, and he wasn’t about to leave his wife—not for me—not for anyone.
    As I glanced at the clock, I realized I was running late. I was to meet Jenny at the airport in less than an hour and had called a cab to take me there.
    The cab pulled up at a quarter to two as I hurried to stuff the rest of my clothes in my bags. I left a note for Jeremy; I wasn’t worried about him since he’d already made arrangements to be with John, yet I felt bad leaving without saying good-bye. I reminded myself he was almost an adult now and could take care of himself.
    I got in the cab after lobbing my luggage into the trunk. Once the driver pulled up to the airport drop-off center, I could see Jenny standing next to the Southwest Airlines sign.
    “Hey, Jen,” I said, waving as I got out.
    “There you are,” she yelled back, waving her arms too.
    “Sorry I’m late.”
    “No problem, we still have time.”
    We rolled our bags through the luggage check and entered through the security doorway.
    * * * *
    We arrived in Chicago a little after five. The short flight had been uneventful and everything was working out well. Nothing got lost, and we were still together. Last time we took a weekend getaway together, I lost my favorite suitcase and Jenny flipped out because she couldn’t find me for hours, and that was all at the airport.
    Chicago was amazing. The narrow skyscrapers outlined the city in pearly lights, and the busy streets were jammed with business people running to work and tourists taking snap-shots of the landmarks. We watched with gaping eyes as we travelled in the back of the cab. I could tell by Jenny’s silence and open mouth she was really excited.
    When we pulled up to the hotel, she smiled. “Wow, we’re finally here. Can you believe it?”
    “Yeah, this is great.”
    After getting out of the cab and spinning through the glass-doors, we headed for the reception desk and checked in.
    “You’re on the fifth floor, Miss Wheeler,” the clerk said, handing me the card-keys and pointing to the elevator doors.
    I was instantly pleased with the room and could feel the richness of the high-style furniture and ornate designs in the wallpaper. I was ecstatic to see the Italian-marble tub in the bathroom as I glided my fingers across the slick surface, and already knew I would give the hotel a rave review; even the view of the lake was inviting.
    “I can’t wait to take a bath in this,” I said to Jenny.
    The only thing I worried about was that the room was non-smoking, like they all were.
    As we got settled in, I made arrangements to go to Navy Pier. I also scoped out the restaurants along Michigan Avenue for the meeting with Dean and found a little Italian place, the Spiaggia Restaurant, that I’d always wanted to try.
    * * * *
    After a late afternoon on the Spirit