Larkspur Dreams (9 page)

Company parties are always such circuses,
Everett thought. One minute people were being pigheaded at departmental meetings and then suddenly jovial at company get-togethers. Guess he’d become a cynic at the ripe old age of thirty-five.

Okay, the big question: Who would run into them first? Oh boy, here comes Marge, the magpie.
At least that was the nickname the other women at work used behind her back. But unfortunately Marge had earned it. She
never
stopped moving her mouth. Marge bounced up to them in her psychedelic dress. Somehow he felt sorry for her, but he hadn’t a clue how to help her.

After the intros, Marge began her spiel. “I love your evening gown, Larkspur. Where did you buy it? Don’t you just love it? It looks so perfect on you. Just like those fairy princess gowns we put on our dolls when we were little. You know, the ones with the billowy chiffon and all the little sparkles. Did you play with dolls, too, Lark?”

Everett felt a little bug-eyed, but Lark listened graciously to the voluminous questions. Eventually, his brain started absorbing the chatter as white noise. The ordeal took exactly eleven minutes.

When Marge was spent, Lark touched the woman’s arm and said, “It’s so nice to have someone ask me questions. Usually at parties people just talk about themselves.”

Marge’s chin did a shake. Was she about to rupture into tears of joy? He couldn’t tell. “No one has ever said that to me before,” she said with her hands gathered up to her heart. “Thank you. . .Lark.”

They moved on through the crowd, leaving behind Lark’s new friend for life—a woman named Marge. He just shook his head in amazement.
Oh no.
A man named Jamison Peabody moved toward them at an alarming rate. He was the guy at work who caused the fastest clearance of any break room. People ran from him like swimmers fled from jellyfish at the beach. It wasn’t just the odors fermenting on Jamison’s body, but the fact that he could literally corner people in thirty seconds flat. Give or take a few nanoseconds.

This is just great.
Jamison lumbered over and stood right in front of them. In fact, so close, he’d burst their spatial bubble. Apparently, Jamison didn’t realize his abdomen extended so far out they were close enough to do a three-way hug. Once they’d
entered the point of no return, Everett made the appropriate introductions.

Jamison slimed Lark’s hand with a kiss as he made a slight rap of his heels together and bow of his head.

Lark made no gestures of disgust but instead rose to the occasion and curtsied and smiled.

Jamison looked like he was going to pass out from elation. He added a few chortles, which made him nearly explode out of his cummerbund.

“What do you do at Ozark Consulting?” Lark asked.

Jamison began the tale of his brilliant skills, how he was the mastermind behind the company, the brain of the operation and true pulse of the company. In other words, he was a computer programmer. But Everett could tell from Lark’s questions, she wasn’t just nodding politely at Jamison, she was actually listening.

Everett squelched a yawn but caught a point or two of the dialogue. Jamison actually had some good ideas, but his social skills were so misplaced he’d never been able to relate his ideas to anyone of importance. Maybe he could mention Jamison at a meeting or two.

Everett moaned audibly when he saw the infamous Zeta bulldoze toward them through the crowd like a snowplow.

“There you both are,” Zeta said. “With Jamison?”

“Hi. Good to see you,” Lark said. “You know, Jamison was just telling us of his ideas to improve bandwidth on your corporate network. You must be very proud to have such talented people working here.”

Zeta made all sorts of movements with her mouth. First a look of shock, followed by a glimmer of revulsion. After a brief sputter of confusion, she settled on what all big shots liked to land on. Awareness. “Of course, Jamison is very good. I always keep alert of new talent.” Jamison then shook hands with Zeta, said something miraculously quick-witted, and walked away a new man.

Life was full of surprises. At least it was while standing near Lark. Maybe Everett really needed to just buy a ticket and watch from the stands. But for now, his mouth felt like paper. The rough parchment kind. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Root beer, please.” Lark smiled. “Lots of ice.”

“Oh, icy root beer sounds
so
yummy,” Zeta said. “But I’m afraid I’m dieting. Definition: eating flavored air.”

Zeta released one of her laughs, and Everett willed himself not to cringe. In fact, he decided to take the high road and smile at her.

“Nothing for me.” Zeta shot Everett a cagey look.

“Okay.” He noticed when Zeta opened her mouth, her bright red lipstick stuck to her canine teeth. He decided not to take that one any further in his mind.

Everett tromped away, deliberately straightening his shoulders.
Great. I get the evil eye for the kind act of offering a cool beverage.
That’s Zeta. The woman who had made his professional life
miserable
. Definition: to be made exceedingly uncomfortable. Kind of like trying to hug a porcupine.

Somebody he knew said, “Hey. How’s it going?” Everett was about to tell him, but the guy just kept on trucking toward the food tables. Oh, well. What did he expect when he hadn’t spent any real time chewing the fat with these people before?

When Everett had finally made it through the drink line, he stood there for a moment observing Lark from a distance. A few days before he wouldn’t have thought to leave a fellow human being alone with Zeta, but somehow he knew all would be well. Lark could handle herself better than he could. She seemed like some elfin creature from those animated movies he watched as a kid. Lovely. Mischievous. Magical. Maybe he was good at romantic feelings when he had something to work with.

Uh-oh.
Why did Zeta look so ecstatic, and why was Lark hugging her again? Zeta appeared to be crying. What in the world was happening over there? Should he barge in, or let the scene play itself out?

Everett took a sip of his cold sparkling water. He wished he could pour it over his head instead. He hadn’t realized until now how exhausted he felt from worrying about losing his biggest client as well as his big salary. “The more one gains, the more one has to lose,” his father used to say. And he certainly had a lot to lose.

But no matter the status of his coffers, he’d had about enough of Zeta. Surely he could express his views without getting fired. Some way to keep her from reducing him to a sniveling fool. He strode toward them as his hot hands gripped the cold glasses. Warning bells went off in his head. The pile of bills at home needing to be paid came into his mind’s eye.
You’re a Christian.
Don’t say anything rash. Nothing you’ll regret.

The second Everett arrived in their midst, Zeta threw her arms around him. His arms rose in the air to keep the drinks from spilling. The expression on his face must have looked peculiar. He would give a sizable chunk of his income to know exactly what Lark had done.

“I guess I’d better explain,” Zeta said as she disengaged. “I’ve wanted to quit my job for ages. I already had my resignation written, but I just wasn’t quite ready to mail it. All month I’ve had confirmation after confirmation. And now Lark has just given me yet another one. It’s finally time to leave this miserable job and live my dream. So I quit.” Zeta revved up her machine-gunfire laugh again, and Everett thought it was the most inspiring and lyrical sound he’d ever heard.

Lark gave him a smile. “Since you’re busy, I’m so glad you had time to talk to me.”

“Well, I guess I hoped there’d be a bit more than just talk.”
Did those words actually come out of my mouth?

Lark’s mouth came open in surprise. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Holden?”

Everett wondered if his timing was off. “Maybe a little.”

“Maybe you’d better tell me about your objectives so I can decide if I approve.” Lark pretended to straighten his bowtie.

He decided to throw caution to the wind and just say it out loud. “Well, I’d like to kiss the palm of your hand.”
Did that come off nerdy or appealing?

“That’s honest.” Lark fluttered her eyelashes. “Permission granted.”

Everett reached for her hands and held them for a moment. Warm and soft. The way he imagined them. He brought one of her hands to his lips, slowly turned it over, and did just as he’d promised. When he looked back at Lark’s face, she had a contented expression. “I guess I didn’t answer your question from before. I’m not upset with you about Zeta. I won’t lose Ozark Consulting as a client just because she’s leaving.”

“I guess you don’t seem too upset.” Lark grinned.

Everett stared at her lips. “In fact, you seemed to fix my life tonight. As well as Zeta’s. How do you do that?”

Lark stepped back as if trying to regain her composure. “I’m just being me. It’s what my mother always said. ‘Just be yourself, Lark. Love people, and most of the time, they will love you back.’ ”

“And has it been true?” Everett asked.

“Not always. But enough.”

Everett watched Lark as she moved her cape aside to touch the petals of a rather delicate-looking flower that had survived the freeze. Some of the fabric on her dress billowed outside her velvet cape. The gauzy material stirred around her in a breeze, making her look more like a fantasy than anything real. He thought she must have lived a pretty sheltered life. But he didn’t want to spoil a really good moment, so he let it go.

“What will happen now?” Lark asked. “Do you know who your new contact at Ozark Consulting will be?”

“Well, I guess Bard Langley would be up next for Zeta’s job. And that would be a good thing because we’ve always gotten along well.”

“I’m glad for you.”

Yes. I’m very glad for myself, too.
He had this sudden urge to buy something for Lark. A boat or a house. . .or a diamond ring.
Come on, old boy. Not ready for that one yet.
But he
was
ready for a kiss. And this time not the palm of her hand. Without wasting another minute, Everett traced a finger down her cheek. He then leaned over and brushed his lips across her face.

Lark’s eyes drifted shut as he moved his mouth over hers. His heart rate sped up as if he were sprinting.
That’s never happened before.
In spite of the cooling air, Everett broke out into a sweat.
Am I having a heart attack? Mental note: Better make an appointment for a stressed EKG.
But whatever was happening, he didn’t want to let go of Lark. He held her close as she lifted her arms around his neck. Her breathing changed tempo, and he wondered if she were experiencing the same sort of alarm bells.

Then a floating sensation washed over him as if he’d been set adrift in a small boat. Well, floating felt better than a heart attack. From somewhere in his head an old mantra came back to taunt him.
Passive resistance and neutrality.
I can’t believe those were my words concerning this dazzling woman in my arms.
Whatever resistance he had left was asked to leave.

When the kiss ended, Lark looked dazed, almost breathless. “That was the most wonderful kiss I’ve ever had,” she said.

Everett felt pleasantly startled. He wondered if people on first dates were supposed to reveal their private thoughts. “Really?” he asked, without thinking.

“Electrifying.” Lark looked down as if she were suddenly a little embarrassed.

“You mean like touching a light socket?” He grinned.

Lark laughed. “No.”

“Yeah, well I had this fast heartbeat thing going,” Everett said. “And it certainly doesn’t seem cold out here anymore.”

“Well, I wouldn’t kill you if we kissed again, would I?”

“I guess there’s one way to find out.” He leaned in for a bit more of the sweet stuff.

When Everett released her, Lark looked at him as if she were trying to read his thoughts. Without either of them saying a word, they both sat down on a nearby bench. She looked up at the moon.

Everett followed her gaze.

“It’s so lovely. What do
you
see, Mr. Holden?”

“Well, I suppose there are seas, craters. . .scars.” Everett wondered what she meant. “You know, moon parts.”

“Close your eyes,” Lark said.

Everett hesitated and then complied with her request. The sounds around him changed. He could hear her breathing. Soft. Steady. Then he felt the tiniest kiss on each eyelid.
As delicate as a breeze. That felt pretty good.
He opened his eyes again as she sat back down.

“What else do you see, Mr. Holden?”

Everett looked up at the moon and then followed its radiance to her face. “You glow from the reflection. You look like a guardian angel.”

“You do, too.” Lark kissed his cheek and smiled.

A gust of cold air whistled through the pines. “Let’s go back inside.” After another brief kiss, they headed toward the party.