Aimee (A Time for Love Book 3) (4 page)

It sounded like the perfect opportunity to show Frank how sophisticated she could be. “That sounds perfect. It’s going to be a great night!”

Edwina had asked them not to discuss the men until after the second date, so Aimee didn’t ask, but she suspected Charlene was going to request another match. She’d seemed friendly enough with Josiah, but Aimee hadn’t seen any evidence of a romantic spark between them. Although maybe this second date would change their feelings.

Aimee was keeping an open mind about her and Frank, but she was hoping things would go well. She’d found him attractive, and she thought he liked her, at least a little. How great would it be if her first match turned out to be the perfect guy? And she was hardly even thinking of Tom at all.

She splurged on a new haircut and dress and spent ages on her makeup once she’d finished the dinner preparations. Her final check in the mirror showed that the burgundy red dress provided a dramatic contrast with her pale skin and black hair. She applied eyeliner and a lipstick that matched her dress and then slipped on the metallic sandals she had borrowed from Tish.

When Charlene answered the door, her eyes widened. “Wow, you went all out, Ames.”

Aimee froze with the cooler handle in one hand and a box full of dinner ingredients in the other. Charlene was wearing a simple black skirt with a print silk wrap top. “Do you think it’s too much?”

“Not at all. I’m just not used to seeing you so dressed up.”

“There’s no point, really, when I’m working in the kitchen, and with Tom…” Aimee’s voice trailed off. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t think or talk about him tonight. “Anyway, I’ve got the food.”

“Come on in.”

Charlene lived in a townhouse that had been built in the 1980s and recently renovated in the latest eco-friendly urban style. Aimee spread out her ingredients beside the top-of-the-line gas stove. The appliances and granite countertop were much nicer than her own kitchen, but the sparsely stocked cabinets and drawers showed Charlene’s lack of interest in cooking.

If I had a kitchen like this, I could start my own catering business again
, Aimee thought with a brief pang of envy.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Charlene called from the living room.

“I will.”

She worked quickly and efficiently and had everything in place when Charlene called out, “They’ll be here in five minutes!”

Aimee washed her hands and double-checked her reflection in the powder room beside the living room. She arranged herself on the leather sofa near the entrance way, and when the bell rang, she waited for Charlene to open the door before she joined her in welcoming their guests.

“Good evening, Charlene, Aimee,” Edwina smiled warmly. “These two gentlemen have been anxious to see you. Enjoy your evening. I’ll return at eleven sharp.”

As soon as she vanished, Josiah offered Charlene a bouquet of daisies and carnations. “For you.” He sniffed the air. “Something smells delicious. When do we eat?”

Frank elbowed him. “Use some manners. Thank you for inviting us into your home, Charlene. It’s beautiful. When do we eat?”

Charlene laughed. “Right away. Come on, Josiah. I’ll put these flowers in water, and you can help me start serving.”

They vanished into the kitchen, and Aimee was left with Frank. He was dressed in black trousers and a gray and white striped shirt with a blue silk tie, and he held a box of candy that he didn’t offer to her. Instead, he was staring, from her chic updo to the tips of her silver stiletto heels. He didn’t say anything, and Aimee waited, enjoying the feeling of being appreciated.

Finally he spoke. “You look different.”

“Thank you.” His reaction was even stronger than Aimee had expected, worth every penny she’d spent at the pricy salon. She took his arm. “Follow me.”

It was going to be a good evening.

Frank and Josiah both ate second helpings of the pasta and complimented Aimee on the meal. Josiah and Charlene insisted on cleaning up, so Aimee led Frank into the living room to the elegant striped couch near a window with a view of the Mississippi River.

“Would you like a coffee?” Aimee offered. “Charlene has a wonderful coffee maker. I could get you a cappuccino or an espresso.”

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? Just a coffee, maybe? She has a Vienna roast that’s perfect with a touch of hazelnut cream.”

“No, thanks.”

“Or a latte? I could make a mocha latte?”

“No, thank you.”

“Do you not like coffee?”

“Sometimes. In the winter, when it’s cold.”

“How do you drink it?”

Frank looked at her blankly. He sat with his hands clasped loosely in his lap, a safe distance away from her. Aimee smiled at his confusion.

“I mean, do you take cream? Sugar?”

“A little cream, usually.” He seemed to grasp why she was asking and shook his head. “But I don’t want any now, truly. Although if you want some...?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Aimee settled back against the seat. Frank appeared ill at ease, unlike at the barn dance. He kept glancing around him, as if he were nervous. Aimee liked the idea of making someone nervous. She’d always been the one who had to try to impress Tom, to keep up with him. Let Frank see how sophisticated she was and worry whether
he
could keep up with
her
.

“What’s your favorite type of food?” she asked. “As you probably saw, I’m quite fond of Italian cuisine, although I do try to lighten the heavier dishes. Everyone’s so health-conscious these days.”

“My favorite food? Most anything, I’d say.” When she just waited, he added, “My mother makes really good biscuits and gravy.”

Biscuits and gravy? Was he still playing the turn-of-the-century farm boy about to go fight in the big, bad war? But they were on her turf now. Okay, Charlene’s, technically, but she saw no reason to keep catering to the time travel fantasy.

“Comfort food,” she smiled at him. “Who cares about the carbs, right?”

“Um, right.”

“If you don’t have a particular type of food you like, what about movies? What’s your favorite genre?”

He continued to look blank. “Genre?”

“You know, sci-fi, drama, horror, Westerns?”

“Josiah and I watched a movie about a horse. It was good.”

“A movie about a horse?  Which one?”

“It was a black one.”

Aimee started to speak and then stopped, studying him. Was he playing dumb to make fun of her? Secretly laughing at her? But his expression was completely innocent, and he met her eyes directly. Either he was the most naïve man she’d ever met, or he was extremely good at playing his farm boy role.

“I saw a good movie last weekend.”

She launched into a summary of the movie. He listened closely, nodding occasionally, but without asking any questions. She was wrapping up her analysis of the camera technique used in the action sequences when Josiah and Charlene emerged from the kitchen, both laughing.

“Sorry to break up the couple time,” Josiah said. “But Charlie’s got something planned.”

Charlie? She never let anyone call her by a nickname. But her friend didn’t seem irritated. Aimee shrugged. Charlene started handing out pencils and small slips of paper.

“The game is called Two Truths and a Lie,” she said. “Everyone writes a true statement about themselves on two of the sheets of paper and an untrue one on the third, something you think even your best friend won’t know. Then we’ll put them together. I’ll read them one at a time, and we’ll guess whose statement it is and whether it’s true. Please print so I won’t know whose handwriting it is.”

Aimee thought about what to write. She didn’t want to say anything that would hurt the image she was trying to portray. Charlene jotted hers quickly, while Frank and Josiah sat staring at the blank slips of paper. Finally Aimee printed her last answer, folded the slip, and handed it to Charlene.

Charlene placed the slips in a bowl and with a flourish drew out the first one. “I’ll read it. Call out whether you think it’s a truth or a lie, and guess whose answer it is. ‘I celebrated my twenty-fifth birthday with a gondola ride in Venice.’”

Josiah laughed. “Well, it sure isn’t Frank or me, so if it’s true, it must be one of you ladies. I’m thinking Charlene?”

“Lie, Charlene?” Frank guessed.

Charlene shook her head. “Not me. I’m saying truth, Aimee.”

Aimee nodded. “Yes. A gondola ride and dinner at a restaurant just off Piazza San Marco. It was magical.” The only trip she and Tom had ever taken to Europe. She’d wished it would never end.

“Okay. Next. ‘I’m afraid of frogs.’ That has to be one of you two, and I don’t think you’d make it up,” Charlene told the men. “Frank?”

“Yep. He runs away whenever he sees one. We used to tease him with frogs whenever we went to the creek,” Josiah said.

“Frogs? Seriously?” Aimee laughed.

Frank’s ears turned pink, but he smiled with good humor. “Now you know my deep, dark secret. They’re so slimy, and they
jump
!”

“Good thing we didn’t serve frogs’ legs,” Charlene teased, and Frank shuddered. “And anyway, that wasn’t a fair answer, since clearly your best friend
did
know. Next: ‘I once performed in a circus act.’”

“Lie!” Aimee guessed.

“Lie,” Frank agreed, and Charlene nodded.

“Yep,” Josiah said. “Unless you count the backyard circus my sister and I staged. But I did dream of running away to the circus and becoming an acrobat.”

“Can you juggle?” Charlene asked.

“A little.”

“You have to show us!”

“Got any apples or oranges?”

She fetched a handful of oranges, and Josiah began to juggle, first with three, then adding another orange. He ended by tossing an orange to each of them and catching the final orange behind his back. Charlene and Aimee applauded, and he took a bow.

Charlene pulled out another slip of paper. “Ooh, this one’s good. ‘I once wrote a love poem on the blackboard for my teacher.’”

“I’m guessing Josiah, truth,” Frank said. “I remember, from Miss Schmidt’s class. She was so embarrassed, and no one ever ‘fessed up. I should’ve known it was you!”

“She was the prettiest teacher I’d ever seen,” Josiah admitted. “I thought we’d get married when I grew up. Hey, I was only eight!” he explained to Charlene and Aimee.

“That one was too easy. Try this one: ‘I used to sneak into the kitchen at night and make myself marshmallow and banana sandwiches.’”

“Truth, Aimee?” Josiah guessed.

Aimee shook her head.

“Lie?” Frank asked.

“Nope. Truth,” Charlene admitted. “Marshmallow cream and sliced bananas on soft white bread was my favorite snack. Luckily my tastes have changed!”

“Let me read one.” Josiah reached into the pile. “‘I’m afraid I won’t ever get married, because I won’t ever find someone who really loves me.’”

The room went silent. Everyone avoided looking at anyone. After a moment, Charlene jumped to her feet. “I think we’ve done enough of that game. Anyone for a movie? I have a DVD collection in that cabinet,” she pointed to the lower compartment of her oak entertainment center, “or we can watch something online.”

“A movie sounds great,” Frank agreed.

“He likes movies about horses,” Aimee volunteered.

The look he gave her said he suspected she was making fun of him, but she smiled to show she wasn’t. She was just paying attention to what he said. Josiah chose an old action flick, Charlene made popcorn, and they settled in to watch the movie. After it ended, Frank and Josiah argued about what the hero should’ve done, while they all gathered the remnants of their snack and helped Charlene finish cleaning the kitchen.

“Edwina’s due any minute,” Charlene said. “Aimee, why don’t you show Frank the view from my balcony?”

“This way,” Aimee said and led Frank through the French doors onto the tiny balcony that gave an excellent view of the river and its reflected city lights.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.”

“If you look over there, you can see the arch, and that’s One Metropolitan Square,” she pointed out.

“I can’t believe there are so many people, all in one place.”

Aimee laughed. “You’ve never been to New York, have you?”

“No. I’ve never traveled much of anywhere, but I’ve never missed it,” he answered. “I like where I live and what I do. I wish it didn’t all have to change.”

“Why does it have to change?” Surely he wasn’t still playing the part of a soldier about to go off to war.

“Everything changes,” he said. “You think your life’ll just go along on this slowly winding road, where you can almost see around the next bend, and then it jumps tracks, and somehow you’re on a roller coaster instead. Okay, that’s a jumbled image, but you know what I mean. Have you ever had a moment when your life jumped the tracks?”

“Yes.” Her break-up with Tom was the most recent example.

“What do you do afterwards?”

“Buckle up and enjoy the ride, I suppose.”

“I’m sure that’s good advice,” he said. “But what about those of us who hate roller coasters? That was my lie, in the game. ‘I love roller coasters.’ When I was little, my family went on vacation to visit my cousins in Memphis and rode a roller coaster at a park there.” He shuddered. “All the other kids loved it. I hated it.”

“I’m not much on roller coasters, either,” Aimee admitted. Tom had often teased her about her fear of thrill rides. “But sometimes, buckling in for the ride’s our only choice, so we might as well try to enjoy it.”

She was striving for a woman-of-the-world nonchalance that wouldn’t give away the almost crippling panic she sometimes felt at the thought of facing her future alone. Besides, it was true. Sometimes there wasn’t a choice, so you had to make the best of things or else curl up in a ball and refuse to come out from under the covers. An option she had seriously considered during the days after her breakup.

“You’re braver than I am,” he said glumly.

He stared out at the city lights. Aimee waited until he turned back to her. “You’ll manage, whatever it is. It can’t be as bad as a bucketful of frogs, right?”

He stared at her for a second before he grinned. “You’re right. Whatever comes, I’ll just be thankful I’m not diving into a bucketful of frogs.”

“I know it’s off the subject, but I’m supposed to tell you my view of marriage,” Aimee remembered suddenly. “I don’t have any deep revelations. To me, marriage is simply commitment. You make a promise, and you keep it. There’s no get-out-of-marriage free card.”

“Get out of marriage free?” he frowned.

“Like in Monopoly? The get out of jail free card?”

“Oh.” He still looked slightly confused.

Before Aimee could explain further, the door to the balcony opened, and Edwina stood framed in the doorway. “Having a good evening?” she asked.

“Yes,” Aimee answered.

“Thank you for dinner,” Frank told her. “You’re an amazing cook. And in case you wrote that last slip of paper, I believe you will find the love and marriage you’re seeking.” He clasped her hand briefly and then followed Edwina back inside.

Aimee stayed watching the city lights for a few minutes before she went back inside. Charlene was alone, pouring herself a coffee. She held up the pot, and Aimee nodded. They sat on the sofa together, sipping the Vienna roast.

“What do you think of Frank?” she asked Charlene.

“He seems nice, but the aw-shucks routine’s getting a bit old. The better question is, what do
you
think of Frank? Are you planning to move to Phase 2 or ask for another match?”

“I’m trying to decide. He’s nice, like you said. He’s also muscular. I know that’s shallow. I’ve always dated men who were more the artistic type.” Like Tom. “But when we were dancing, it felt nice to have someone so strong and fit twirl me around. Is it terribly un-PC of me to say it made me feel safe?”

“Terribly,” Charlene said. “I think it’s a violation of section 41c of the Code of Politically Correctness.”

Aimee smiled at the joke and then turned serious. “Frank’s so different from Tom. Tom was always concerned about his image. He didn’t want anyone to see him as anything other than a cultured, sophisticated world traveler. He thought it would help his career as a chef.”

“And he always had to show he knew more than everyone else,” Charlene added. “I imagine sometimes he made you feel inferior.”

“You don’t like him, do you?” Aimee realized. “What about Tish and Dana? Did they hate him too? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Hate’s a strong word. We weren’t fond of him, but as long as you cared about him, we could handle spending time with him. Small amounts, anyway,” she smiled. “What we couldn’t handle was his belittling you.”

Aimee sighed. “I’m just starting to realize how much of a doormat I was. I don’t want to make the same mistake again. But Frank doesn’t do that.”